#another batch of silly peoples for my little setting. i really REALLY should give this thing a name.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
mold-for-breakfast · 13 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
RADIANCES
radiances originate in the hallowed ground district and are not typically seen outside of it. they are likely the only species that can survive in hallowed ground long-term. radiances use the antennae covering their bodies in the same way that cats use whiskers (this universe does not have cats but this is a good comparison). their wings function in a similar way. their senses of hearing, touch and smell are so good that they have no need for sight or taste. there is a limitation in the amount of sounds radiances can physically produce (they don't have mouths or vocal chords), but they are able to communicate telepathically, although they often use images and unrelated sounds while doing so in addition to words.
if you choose this species for your character, your stat increases are +2 to TUNING and +1 to VITALITY.
CENTAURS
centaurs are peculiar creatures with a mostly hairless upper body and a fluffy lower body. they usually possess six paws and a keen sense of smell. they most likely originate in the blinking forest district, although accounts on the matter differ. many groups of centaurs are nomadic due to how easy it is for them to move long distances - they have a good constitution and a lot of space on their back for carrying their possessions. not all centaur societies are nomads, but many are, and historically those centaurs have contributed greatly to discovering new districts.
If you choose this species for your character, your stat increases are +2 to VITALITY and +1 to TONGUE.
Tumblr media
MARROWFOLK
marrowfolk have always existed in many districts, and as such there have developed many differing cultures among them. however, a marrowfolk is almost always easily recogniseable as one since they don't wary much in shape and colour (by this universe's standards). marrowfolk bodies are quite weak, they are known for historically being a prey species. the colloquial name for them comes from the fact that the marrow in their bones is very tasty and nutritious to predators. nowadays marrowfolk are a puny but politically powerful species, mostly to the sheer number of their population and their large area of distribution. many famous marrowfolk of the past were inventors and explorers.
if you choose this species for your character, your stat increases are +2 to STABILITY and +1 to BRAINS.
CHROMAS
chromas are a truly unique species. there are not many of them, and it is unknown what district is the place of their origin. the peculiar thing about chromas is that almost all of them have a natural affinity to psionics. in fact, the very term "psionics" was coined by a chroma*. there are many subspecies of chromas, and it appears that what subspecies a chroma will belong to has nothing to do with the subspecies of their parents or the district they are born in. in fact, it's completely unknown what causes a chroma to be born belonging to one subspecies or the other. it is said that upon the birth of a chroma the world itself bestows a gift upon them based on the influence of which powers it needs. some say the world decides it with a toss of a coin.
(*in universe the term "psionics" is defined as world-altering power that comes from within, while "magics" is defined as a world-altering power that comes from one's connection to the world around them. one is gifted to the person by the world and the other is taken from the world with the person's effort. this definition is rather wobbly. some consider magic and psionics to be completely different from each other, some consider them two sides of the same coin, some argue that the distinction between them is completely arbitrary. both magic and psionics can be utilised by people of many different species, but the term "psionics" is usually brought up in relation to chromas).
if you choose this soecies for your character, your stat increases are +2 to TUNING and +1 to another stat depending on your subspecies.
DOGFOLK
dogfolk are a very recently discovered species. they originate in the district of doggy city!!!! (always spelled and pronounced this way. "doggy city!!!!"). both words "dog" and "dogfolk" are used by them to refer to themselves, which is confusing because no one else knows what a "dog" or "doggy" is. dogfolk are considered a rather eccentric species by the others, and there is still much to learn about then and the district they are native to. they are very friendly to outsiders, however, and have quickly began integrating into the rest of the world since their district of origin has been discovered. nowadays you can find dogfolk pretty much anywhere and they are welcomed warmly in most places.
if you choose this species for your character, your stat increases are +2 to TONGUE and +1 to VITALITY.
9 notes · View notes
fruitcoops · 2 years ago
Note
ok so not really a request but hc: pre-sw, hope lupin had an instagram account, she mostly just posted recipies/ craft projects, super wholesome. She had a small following, but mostly just friends and aquaintences. Then at some point remus/sirius/ the lions tag her in a post and OVERNIGHT there are hoards of hockey fans hyping up her little digital diary. And she's just minorly internet famous for years just and chooses not to bring it up.
IDK IF THAT MAKES SENSE BUT INFLUENCER HOPE >>>
I hope you're not bothered that I made a full fic out of this, but it was too good to resist. Characters belong to @lumosinlove!
Hope Lupin had a hobby. A hobby she was quite proud of—it was an internet masterpiece that had been literal years in the making, giving her the perfect amount of payoff for very little work. Bake a pie? Take a picture. Make a birthday cake? Take a picture. Whip up a batch of cookies? Take a picture. Then, whenever she had some free time, post that picture on her Instagram with a screenshot (Remus had spent an afternoon helping her figure that out) and set her phone aside. The account was almost as old as Jules. A whole 64 people followed her, and some of them weren’t even family.
Honestly, Hope considered her Instagram account a living, growing recipe book rather than any sort of social media. She had Facebook for that. As such, it’s easy to imagine her surprise when she opened her phone to 6,500 likes on her cookies from the night before.
“Lyall,” she called from the kitchen, squinting down at the screen. “I think my phone was hacked.”
But when she went to scroll through the sudden influx of followers—nearly 5,000 new ones, just overnight—the usernames seemed real. The accounts checked out. Faces of complete strangers stared back at her, smiling from wherever in the world they lived.
“You were hacked?” Lyall was still scrubbing grease off his hands when he came in. “Your phone?”
“I…don’t know.”
His brow creased in bafflement and concern, and Hope tilted the phone up to show him. The frown slowly dissipated; his eyes widened when he looked to her follower count. “Holy shit, Howie.”
She bit her lower lip and refreshed the page. 24 new people in a minute and a half. “I don’t know what I did.”
Lyall shook his head, then leaned back to the hallway. “Julian!” he shouted.
A dull thunk followed. “What?”
 “C’mere, your mother went viral!”
“What?” The door to Jules’ room flew open and he came barreling into the kitchen, standing on his toes to see the phone where he hung off Lyall’s arm. “How? On what?”
She bent slightly to show him her phone. “On Instagram. Look at all these people. It was just a cookie recipe, I swear.”
Jules chewed the inside of his cheek. She could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well,” he finally said. “Have you checked Remus’ Instagram?”
“Why would that—oh my god, I forgot he’s famous now.” Lyall snorted as Hope dove for her phone again, scrolling rapidly through her notifications until she reached the previous day. Sure enough, there it was: [rj.lupin] mentioned you in their story!
@bakingwithhope: Missing those kitchen sink cookies today! Save one for me : )
Her phone gave another little ping!
You have: [37] new notifications.
--
At first, Hope wondered whether she should be a little more mindful of her posts. Maybe she could take requests? People certainly left enough of them in the comments. It felt a little silly to share a combination of internet recipes, anything she could dig out of her mother’s old cookbooks, and random ideas from a Saturday afternoon with a crowd of literal thousands. Her most-liked post was Remus’ 15th birthday; she didn’t quite know how to feel about that. It was a very sweet picture of him and baby Jules sharing a piece of cake, though.
In the end, doing nothing different worked perfectly in her favor. The rush of followers slowed after a day, leaving her at a grand total of 15,167 people (and counting), a number she couldn’t even begin to fathom. The only acknowledgement she made about the change was a simple post when she found a few minutes of free time.
Hello! seemed like a good start.
There have been a lot of new people over the past few days—welcome to my Instagram! My name is Hope Lupin, I’m from Madison, and I have two boys with my husband Lyall. I’ve had this blog for almost eleven years now (wow!), so I’m sure there’s something here you’ll enjoy baking. Thanks for sharing my hobby with me, and have a wonderful day!
Love and hugs,
Hope (@bakingwithhope)
Nobody had told her going viral would be so fun. Her little recipe book suddenly had all sorts of kind words from people admiring her food, and anyone who came in with criticism was shut down before she could delete the comment. Hope had never seen so many ‘your mom’ jokes in one spot. The fame came with a bit of a thrill as well, knowing that so many people liked what she made. The Howells were a humble family, but Hope knew her worth, and she had her own private pride that threw confetti whenever her notifications lit up.
[bonjourbees]: Mrs Lupin can you make me a cake and also adopt me
[feefifofoundfamily]: SHE SENDS HER RECIPES TO SIRIUS BLACK SO HE CAN MAKE THEM TOO AND THEY TAKE MATCHING PICTURES NOBODY TOUCH ME RN
[hjsimpson]: can confirm the oatmeal cookies are to die for, I went to middle school with @rjlupin and I still remember when she brought them for his birthday. Literally daydream about those it’s been 15 years
[diamondlucy]: Okay first where’s your hairclip from second how did you make the egg whites like that third HOW ARE YOU NOT 35 YEARS OLD WTF
[lillian.william]: ohmygod I’m in Madison too can we meet up??? Cookie exchange??
[yeehonkinhaw]: now I see why people in that fan comment video were calling her a milf and they were RIGHT
Response to [yeehonkinhaw] from [vibecheck32]: man I just wanted a blackberry cobbler
Response to [yeehonkinhaw] from [ladylu]: Hey that’s OUR mom now show some respect
[lionsftw45]: LMAOOO @RJLUPIN ARE YOU ACTUALLY BANNED FROM BAKING
Jules found it significantly less exciting as the week progressed.
“Lane’s dad wants your lemon meringue pie recipe,” he called from the front door on the Monday after her oldest son launched her into the world of influencers. “It’s kinda cool, I’m double-famous now.”
And on Tuesday, “Do you have leftovers of Grandmom’s almond cookies?”
“Do you use a special version of blackberry cobbler, or is there, like, a normal one?” was Wednesday’s weary question.
“I just told Maria I didn’t know how you got a flaky pie crust,” he said on Thursday.
“Turtle brownies.” It sounded almost like a curse when Jules dragged himself through the door on Friday. He looked into the kitchen, where Hope was still packing up the previous night’s chocolate fest, and sighed. “So many turtle brownies.”
But in her glee, there was one person she forgot to inform of her sudden spotlight.
“You have what?” Remus spluttered as Sirius laughed hysterically in the background.
“I thought you knew!” Hope defended, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder while she scrubbed out a bundt pan. “It’s your fault, anyway.”
“How is it my—you have how many followers? Oh my god, mom! Do you have any ideas how many people have been tagging me?”
Hope huffed. “Don’t sound so surprised. And I’m serious, you mentioned me in your Instagram two weeks ago and now all these people think I’m a cool mom. They’re right, but still.”
Remus fell quiet, leaving Sirius to his snickering. “I’m…sorry?”
“Oh, no, I think it’s a lot of fun. They’re very nice people. I was going to take requests, but that seemed like cheating, you know?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m starting a dessert salad series,” she added, pointedly ignoring Lyall’s snort of laughter into his water at Remus’ faint noise of agreement. “Do you have your aunt Allison’s blueberry pie recipe, by the way? I can’t find it.”
Rustling filled the line for a moment and she paused. “Yes,” Sirius finally said, followed by the sound of a distant struggle. “Yes, I—stop it!—I have it. You brought it for Thanksgiving.”
“Give it back! My mom is famous, this is—I’m happy, but it’s weird!”
“Lovely, I was worried I lost it.” Hope tried not to let her amusement slip through; Remus sounded like he was struggling. “Will you send a picture?”
“Ouais, I’d be happy too.” They were both giggling now over Remus’ distress. “Have a good one, Hope.”
“You too, sweetheart. Bye, Remus! I’ll tag you in the next post!”
She hung up, turned to Lyall, and they both burst out laughing.
213 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 4 years ago
Text
xoxo (Peter Parker x Reader)
Tumblr media
WARNINGS: NON-CON, roofie use, Stark!Peter, snobby rich people, Peter’s an ass (I believe @opheliadawnwalker3 coined the term “baby Ransom”)
DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU
➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}
summary: Peter Stark, the adopted son of the playboy philanthropist Tony Stark, has been a pain in your ass for years. Ever the womanizer, you always brushed off his flirtatious behavior as part of his personality, unaware of just how deeply his feelings ran.
You leaned against the bar with a grimace, nursing the strong drink in your hand as the annoying sound of high-pitched laughs and fake compliments drifted up from downstairs, swirling around you. You glanced over your shoulder to look down at the rest of the guests before rolling your eyes at this soiree that was nothing more than a pissing contest for the rich and snooty.
You truly hated being the daughter of a wealthy CEO more often than not. You’d grown up with the kind of lifestyle that more than half the world would never taste, ignorant to not only reality, but the true inner workings of the business that funded your lifestyle. It wasn’t until your junior year of high school when the rug was ripped out from underneath you, exposing the dark truth.
Now, you detested everything about this lifestyle. From the preferential treatment to the fancy parties, you hated everything that came with it. Despite the fact that you were an adult now, your father still had an iron grip on you no matter how much you pretended he didn’t. It was why instead of going on a humanitarian trip with some friends from college for winter break, you were back in the big apple, the upper east side to be exact, surrounded by a bunch of brownnosers.
“Another please,” you murmured, setting your empty glass down onto the bar.
The bartender was quick in giving you a refill, but before the glass met your lips, a finger slid in between to gently push it away. A sigh escaped you before you even turned your head, the familiar smell of his cologne reaching your nose.
“You’re always off by yourself at these little gatherings…”
You turned towards the voice, eyes meeting his dark ones as a playful smirk danced along his pink lips. His brown hair was neatly pushed away from his face, suit fitting him to perfection. He looked so put together and very much like a gentleman. Too bad that you knew better.
“Someone like me might take it as an invitation to approach you.”
You fully turned in your seat, leaning your elbow on the bar to gaze at him, unimpressed, cheek resting on your hand. He too was leaning on the bar, signaling for the bartender to get him a drink, already sliding into the seat in front of you. You could’ve protested, but he wouldn’t listen anyway.
Peter Stark was the bane of your existence. Adopted by the great Tony Stark when he was just a toddler, a big ordeal that made the papers apparently, the dark-haired male grew up in the same environment you did. The same circles. You went to the best schools together, often times having the same batch of friends. He always had the teachers and just about every other adult fooled, but everyone else knew better.
Peter’s charm was notorious. Those soft brown eyes and boyish good looks could have any girl swooning at his feet. He was so good that most girls didn’t even mind being one of the many. As long as they were a number, they didn’t care. Let them tell it, he had a way of making every single one of them feel special. You probably would’ve been one of them had you not seen his behavior firsthand all those years ago. How he’d tell one girl one thing and say something completely different to the next.
Peter’s constant flirtations with you and your absolute refusal to ever even entertain him had made your relationship…interesting. Could you even call yourselves friends? He flirted with you, and you rolled your eyes at his antics. That was the gist of it. His behavior had only gotten worse once you’d denounced this lifestyle the minute you left for college, a non-Ivy League college at that.
You remembered the surprise you felt that Peter had seemed to be genuinely upset with the 180 you’d done with your lifestyle. You had rolled your eyes as he’d called you all sorts of ‘wannabe’ this and ‘wannabe’ that, biting your tongue as he insulted your ‘low rate school’. Even now, after a little over 2 years, he still sneered whenever he brought up your new life.
“Color me shocked you even showed up today. Last I heard you were going to build houses for children,” he said, nursing his drink.
You smirked at him, fighting back a laugh.
“Last you heard? Keeping tabs on me, Stark?”
He returned your smirk, dark eyes trailing over you, gaze lingering on whatever skin your short dress exposed. You weren’t fazed by his conspicuous onceover, more than used to it.
“Of course. I have to make sure my best girl stays out of trouble,” he told you, leaning in.
You scoffed, looking away from him as you downed your drink.
“Your best girl,” you dryly repeated, standing. “Yeah, okay.”
Peter hurried to stand with you, whistling at the bartender as you walked away. It wasn’t long before you felt his arm being thrown over your shoulder as he pulled you against him. He waved an expensive bottle of champagne in your face as he walked down the hall with you.
“You may have switched up and hate me now-.”
“I’ve always hated you,” you deadpanned.
“…but you can’t deny that I know how to throw a party within a party,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “Ned and I are having a little get together in the penthouse suite.”
He wasn’t wrong, and you sighed as you thought about how angry you’d been to be forced back home for the break instead of doing what you wanted to do. You could honestly use the distraction, at least for a little while until you had to be in your father’s presence again. You sighed again, and by the grin on Peter’s lips, you knew that he knew that he had you.
“Fine. Lead the way,” you said with a flourish.
His grin widened, and he pulled you closer as he took you to the elevator. You leaned against the mirrored wall once inside, staring at your reflection with a frown.
“You shouldn’t frown so much,” he said, pressing the button. “It’ll give you premature wrinkles.”
“Why are you so concerned with how I age?”
He unbuttoned his suit jacket, approaching you as he swung the bottle of champagne in his hand.
“I want you to age as gracefully as me when we get married,” he teased, pressing his free hand onto the wall beside your head.
You laughed, shaking your head.
“I’d never marry you, and you… Well, you’d never get married,” you said with a shrug, shaking your head.
His grin dimmed a bit as his eyes met yours.
“I’d marry you,” he murmured.
You rolled your eyes, head leaning back against the wall as he moved closer, pressing his forearm to the wall, face suddenly serious as he eyed you. It was his turn to sigh now, the sound heavy and drawn out.
“When…are you and I finally going to get together?” he slowly asked, voice low in the quiet elevator.
Your eyes widened just a tad, nose brushing his as he leaned in. Peter hadn’t asked you that for some time now. It was a recurring question of his that you always brushed off, and even though this time was no different, something in his voice made you blink. There was a yearning that had never been there before. Something new lingering in his eyes.
You laid your hand on his chest, pushing him away, and he let you.
“Seriously, Peter? You know the answer to that question,” you said.
He huffed, his grin returning as he shook your rejection off.
“You know I always have to ask…just in case you change your mind,” he replied, quickly scanning your frame.
The elevator dinged, and the doors parted behind him, the low hum of a small party reaching your ears.
“I’m never going to change my mind.”
Without a second glance, you brushed past him to exit the elevator.
Tumblr media
“You need to start getting serious about your future, Y/N.”
You stared out of the tinted window, watching the city fly by as your father’s car weaved in and out of traffic. He was giving you yet another lecture on what he thought you should be doing with your future. After all, it wasn’t like you had already decided on a major and knew exactly what you wanted to do with your life, so you could understand his- oh. Wait… You had!
“Dad,” you sighed. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Humanities isn’t a real major,” he argued for the umpteenth time, tone laced with contempt.
You cut in before he could continue.
“First of all, it is. Second of all, it’s my minor-.”
“Oh, of course. How silly of me to forget that- what is it? International relations? That’s the major, right?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head.
“You know, I’ll never understand you kids. So fickle with your goals-.”
“Dad, I’ve had the same plan since before I even went to college. You can’t call it fickle just because at 17 I told you I didn’t want to follow in your footsteps. I’ve known what I wanted since then. Its literally the opposite of fickle,” you huffed.
You heard him sigh.
“I don’t understand what happened here, Y/N. I really don’t. Ever since you were little, you wanted to follow in my footsteps-.”
“…and now I don’t. Things happen,” you told him. “I don’t want anything to do with this lifestyle.”
You’d told him this a hundred times. You were so tired of having the same discussion, and you knew that he was too.
“Why can’t you be more like Peter?”
You frowned, finally looking over at him. This was a new tactic. The older man had his eyes focused on the paper as he continued to speak.
“He’s following behind Tony swimmingly, a real successor in the making,” he praised.
You fought the urge to groan and sink down in your seat like a child. Never in your wildest dreams did you think your father would be comparing you to Peter Stark of all people.
“You’re comparing me to Peter now?” you scoffed.
The paper ruffled as he turned it, humming.
“I’m just noting that the two of you came up together, but you somehow deviated so far off track.”
“Well, since you love Peter so much, just pass the company onto him when the time comes. God knows he’ll appreciate it way more than I will,” you grumbled.
Your father hummed at that.
“I actually have hopes that, in some way, the company will be his one day,” he replied.
Your brows furrowed, confusion filling you as you fought to understand what he meant. Your father’s eyes finally met yours, a serious look on his face.
“Peter’s exactly the kind of man you should be considering when you finally get ready to get married.”
Shock poured over you like a bucket of ice water, his words having been the last thing you expected to hear. Marriage? Peter? You blinked a few times, fighting to clear your head enough to articulate what you were thinking.
“You…you can’t be serious…?”
He fixed you with a stern look.
“As a heart attack. What is there to oppose? Peter is young and handsome and well brought up. He’ll be taking over after Tony one day, and you really can’t do much better than that. Unless you’re aiming to be the next Meghan Markle, but no offense sweetheart, you don’t strike me as the type,” he elaborated.
You pressed your hand to your forehead as your mind spun.
“I’m not telling you to marry him or anything. I’d never go so far to participate in something as archaic as an arranged marriage. I’m just telling you to consider it. He’s a good match for you, and I’d like you to be open to it…”
You couldn’t begin to believe how sharply this morning had turned.
“It’s why you’ll be seeing a lot more of him over the break. Just keep it in mind when we meet with them,” he said.
He must have noted the confusion on your face because he continued.
“We’re meeting them for brunch. Tony wants to run his latest idea by me, and we figured it would give you and Peter more time to catch up,” he explained.
The car had finally stopped just as he finished, and you didn’t have time to process anything before you were being ushered out of the car. The brisk air whipped around you as you followed your father into the fancy restaurant.
Your father wanted you to marry Peter? The idea was so absurd that you actually considered the possibility that your father was playing a joke on you. You felt like you were having an out of body experience as you and your father sat down, you across from Peter. As always, he looked absolutely tickled to see you, while you simply returned his grin with a withering stare.
Brunch was a taxing affair. Tony Stark greeted you as politely as he always did before he and your father got right down to business. That left you and Peter with no one but each other to look at. You did your best to ignore the annoying brunette sitting across from you, barely speaking with him no matter how many times he tried to engage you in conversation.
You supposed that your behavior towards Peter was a bit unfair. After all, it wasn’t his fault that your father wanted you to marry him. Although, as you thought back to your conversation in the elevator the other day, you had to wonder if he knew, or at the very least, had some idea. And that was exactly what you asked him once you were alone.
Your father and Tony had gone back to Tony’s office in a hurry to remedy some oversight that had been missed. You’d been left with your father’s car and driver, and you eyed Peter, waiting for his answer, as you made your way outside.
“Not really, no.”
You slid into the backseat, thanking the driver before scooting as far away from Peter as possible as he joined you.
“Not really or no? Those are two different answers,” you told him.
A smirk danced along his lips as he leaned his head back, turning it ever so slightly to gaze at you out of the corner of his eye.
“I had an idea. The great Mr. Y/L/N never came outright and said it, but little things he’d say here and there started to add up,” he explained with a chuckle.
He apparently found this funny while you did not. You crossed your arms over your chest, anger bubbling within you at the thought of your father playing matchmaker behind your back. Peter reached for your hand, attempting to pull it away from your chest, but you jerked it away as soon as his fingers brushed yours. He sucked his teeth.
“Come on. Would marrying me really be so bad?”
You turned to fully face him, not a hint of humor on your face.
“Yes,” you answered, voice steady with conviction.
He simply rolled his eyes, lips twitching, and you shook your head with a scoff.
“Is your father in on this too? God, I bet Tony Stark is just eating this up,” you complained.
The tone of Peter’s chuckle gave you pause, and you eyed him as he grinned at you.
“Quite the opposite actually…”
You frowned, and God help you, because you found yourself…offended.
“He thinks I’m not good enough for you or something?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.
You didn’t want to marry Peter, but you knew that you were more than good enough for a guy like him. The truth was that Peter wasn’t good enough for you. He shook his head, picking at a piece of lint on your shoulder as he hummed.
“No actually. In fact, he’d dare say that you are out of my league, and I’d be forced to agree,” he told you with a shrug. “He thinks you’re too much of a ‘wild card’.”
Now it was your turn to chuckle, nodding as you understood what that meant.
“I see. So he wants you to marry a meek and submissive little thing who will do everything you say and conform to the Stark image. Got it,” you replied with a smirk.
He returned it, finger trailing along your collarbone now as he eyed you.
“He thinks that you march to the beat of your own drum…and you do…,” he said, smirk growing as his gaze met yours. “…but I think I can handle you just fine.”
You slapped his hand away, disgust filling you just as the car stopped.
“We’re at your place. Get out,” you sneered, looking away from him.
“Care to join me? No one’s home…we’ll have the whole place to ourselves…”
You opted for ignoring him and the way his voice lowered, the hidden meaning in his question loud and clear. When some time passed, he finally sighed, and you heard the car door open. When it didn’t close, you turned to see Peter standing outside, one hand pressed onto the top of the car door while the other rested on the hood of the car as he leaned down.
A dark strand fell out of place and brushed along his forehead, dark eyes somehow darker as he trailed them over your tense form. His smirk slowly fell, and you blinked at the less than humorous expression on his face. You could count the number of times on one hand that you’d seen Peter so serious.
“You really shouldn’t try so hard to show your dislike for me…”
You frowned at him, and the corner of his mouth curved upwards just a tad.
“…someone might think you’re playing hard to get.”
Before you could process that, he’d closed the door. He didn’t go inside right away, instead opting for standing on the curb to watch your father’s car drive away.
Tumblr media
When your father said that you’d be seeing a lot more of Peter over the break, you underestimated just how determined the old man was to get you and the Stark heir together. Every innocent gathering turned into a run-in with Tony and his wife, Pepper, and Peter. Whether it was brunch or dinner or a shopping trip. Hell, even an innocent day at the park had you coming face to face with who you now liked to refer to as ‘the pain in your ass’.
Had you known that this is what your winter break would entail, you would have fought tooth and nail with your father on it. You felt like this was such a waste of time, one big joke that you’d walked into and you were the punchline. You had no idea how much worse it could get.
You were currently in the hallway of the home that belonged to none other than the Starks. You were killing time by fleetingly looking at the artwork that was hung up on the dark walls, a half empty glass of some brown liquor in your hand. You could hear the voices of Tony, Pepper, and your father drifting to you from the lounge, and you rolled your eyes.
When your father had told you that you’d be joining them for dinner, you thought it’d be in their apartment in the city. Some place that you could easily escape if need be. You never would have agreed if you’d known you’d be in upstate New York hours later, conversing with them in one of their many secluded vacation houses. Dinner was long over, and you had no desire to be privy to anymore of their business talk. Peter had scurried off to only God knows where, and you couldn’t be bothered to care.
Perhaps you should have.
Your mood soured even further as you felt an arm slide over your shoulders to curl around your neck, pulling you back into a firm chest. Peter hummed, and you sighed. The story of your lives.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” he wondered, gesturing to the painting. “I picked it out. I thought it would brighten the place up a bit.”
You threw his arm off of you, and he chuckled.
“Don’t look so glum, Y/N. The grownups are knee deep into stock market talk, which means they won’t even think about us for another hour at the least…”
You looked to the ceiling as he slipped an arm around your waist, praying for some higher power to strike you down. Or him. You’d be happy either way.
“Surely we can find some way to keep ourselves occupied,” he murmured.
You turned to face him and turned your head again just in time for his lips to brush the skin of your cheek. You pushed yourself away from him with a frown, backing up until your back rested against the opposite wall.
“Whatever happened to MJ?” you suddenly asked him, a faint smile on your lips as you took a sip of your drink.
Peter smirked, leaning against the other wall as he stared you down, raising an eyebrow at you, dark suit hugging him nicely.
“Keeping tabs on me?”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Hardly,” you snorted. “My father likes to bring up you and your personal life every chance he gets. Of course, now I know why. I was shocked to find out that you had a girl in your life who stuck around for more than two months.”
“She was too much like you,” he dismissively said. “She wanted to travel and see the world and make a difference. There’s only room for one girl like that in my life. Anything more, and things would start to get a little…dull.”
You hummed, pushing away from the wall to walk past him. Peter followed, and your mind spun.
“What exactly are you going to do when I finally meet a nice guy to get serious with? Surely, this behavior can’t go on forever, Peter,” you wondered.
He grabbed your elbow and gently pushed you into the wall. His other hand was beside your head, dark eyes narrowed and inquiring. You sharply inhaled, unintentionally breathing in the scent of him, and you blinked.
“What nice guy could you possibly meet at that sad excuse of a school you call-?”
“I don’t know how to break it to you that an Ivy League education isn’t exactly the picture of intelligence you think it is,” you sneered at him.
His own face grew taut as he glared at you, tilting his head to the side.
“Is that why you turned down your acceptance to Princeton? To prove some silly point?”
“For your information, Peter, I turned down my acceptance because I learned that the main reason I got in was because of my father.”
“So what? What is the point of our parents working their asses off for years if not to give us the opportunities they didn’t have growing up? When are you going to drop this holier-than-thou wannabe Mother Teresa act?”
“It’s not an act,” you spat, shoving him away from you. “This world? This way of life and everything that comes with it? I hate it. I despise everything about it. Its sickening that we live like we do while people down the street struggle to keep a roof over their heads. What is it to you, anyway?”
Peter ran his hand through his hair, huffing as he stared you down.
“You and me?” he started, gesturing between the two of you, his other hand on his hip. “We could’ve been unstoppable together. We were supposed to go to Princeton together. We were supposed to leave our mark on that campus together, create a legacy, and make a name for ourselves on our own, and instead I’m doing that by myself while you go off galivanting down south-.”
“Is that what this is about?” you demanded, incredulity filling your voice. “…some fantasy in your mind that we’d be some power couple who’d go on to take over after our fathers and rule the upper east side? Seriously? That’s a new one, even for you.”
Peter’s jaw clenched as he glared at you, nostrils flaring as he ran his eyes over you with the nastiest look you’d ever seen on his boyish face.
“You can run all you like…reinvent yourself all you want…”
His voice lowered as he approached you, and you stood your ground, glowering at him.
“…but you will never escape this life,” he threw at you, and you flinched at his harsh tone.
“That may be true…but I can still try,” you whispered.
The corner of his lips lifted into a mocking smirk.
“Try all you want. Hell, jump into a relationship with the next guy you have some anthropology project with for all I care. We both know that the only guy to give you the life you deserve…to give you what you need…”
He reached to fix a stray hair that had come out of place, smirk smug and eyes smugger.
“…is a guy like me.”
You stumbled away from him with a frown, arms folded over your chest.
“Screw you, Peter.”
You turned away from him to go find your father.
Peter had always been an annoying thorn in your side, but his behavior tonight had reached new heights. It amazed you, really, how far he was willing to go just to finally get you into bed. He had never had any problem being an asshole, but there was a shift in him tonight. His tone was harsher, words meaner, eyes just a tad bit icier than normal. In fact, it almost seemed like it wasn’t his usual cruel teasing.
When you finally neared the lounge, you frowned at the words that reached you.
“She’ll probably be a bit bitter about it at first, but I’m sure Y/N will grow to love it. This will be an amazing opportunity for her.”
You recognized your father’s voice, and you slowed just before finally entering, listening in.
“I was surprised to hear that she’s transferring, which is why I had never initially considered her for the internship. I was under the impression that she wouldn’t be here to do it.”
Your frown deepened at Tony Stark’s words, a sinking feeling in your gut, and although you wanted to hear more, something in you prevented you from staying still and doing so. You stepped into the lounge, greeting them all with a smile before resting your gaze on your father.
“I hate to cut the evening short, but I’m feeling a bit ill,” you lied.
Perhaps it wasn’t a complete lie. Peter’s harsh words didn’t exactly leave you feeling the best, but your father believed you anyway. The two of you said your goodbyes to the Starks, even Peter who had slithered his way into the foyer eventually. He’d sent you off with that stupid smirk on his face, and it took everything in you to resist the urge to roll your eyes.
The ride home was quiet. Your mind was too stuck on the snippet of conversation that you’d heard. You knew that it was about you, that much you had heard, but the talk about internships and transferring had you confused. Again, there was that sinking feeling in your gut, and it wouldn’t go away. You wanted to bring it up to your father, but he’d spent the entire next day in the office.
Your paranoia got the best of you though, and the next evening, you found yourself in his study, mind going a mile a minute as you poured over the papers you found. Shock coursed through you at every reveal, hands shaking and heart sinking in disbelief. That was how your father found you that night, perched in his desk chair, tearful eyes glaring up at him as he walked through the door. He sighed as soon as his eyes landed on the papers scattered all over his desk.
“Tell me this isn’t true,” you quietly pleaded.
You knew that it had to be, but you needed to hear him say it.
“You’ll be going to Princeton for your senior year. All of the paper work has been done and whatever needs to be transferred has been transferred,” he breathed, stepping into the room.
You shook your head in disbelief, tears spilling over. You were shocked to find yourself…shocked. You knew that your father didn’t approve of your new lifestyle and your plans for your future. You knew that it ran deep, and yet it had never occurred to you that he’d do something about it. You had foolishly thought that he’d let you make your own decisions.
This was the main reason you hated this world you were born into. The things that people could buy, could do, if they had enough money to do so scared you. It shouldn’t be allowed.
“…and the internship?”
You didn’t even care that you had revealed yourself to be eavesdropping last night. Your father stepped further into his study.
“You’ll be interning with Stark Industries immediately after graduation…”
You were out of his chair and stomping out of his office before he could even finish. He didn’t even call for you to come back, and why would he? His word was law. You both knew that this was going to happen, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
The night air was cold, and you wished you’d grabbed a thicker coat before stepping outside. After all, the only thing you had on underneath was a flimsy dress. You’d had plans to meet up with some old friends from high school tonight after your talk with your father, but you had never imagined that the talk would reveal this.
A lot of people were out in the city. It was a Friday night, after all. There was some light snow falling, but you could hardly even see it because the tears had finally spilled over. You couldn’t remember a time where you were so angry that you’d cried. You were grateful to be in New York of all places, right now, because a girl crying on the sidewalk was the most normal thing someone would probably see.
You crossed the street to a less crowded sidewalk, still trying to wrap your head around what your father had done, when a sleek black limo slowed beside you. You wouldn’t have thought anything of it had the window not rolled down to reveal none other than Peter.
“Are you drunk?” was the first thing he asked you.
Fed up with this night and having no patience for Peter Stark and all of his glory, you sneered at him.
“No,” you snapped.
You huffed when the limo rolled slowly along the street in time with your steps. Peter called to you, but you ignored him. What was he even doing out, right now? It was a Friday night. Shouldn’t he be at someone’s party participating in at least 2 illegal activities?
You sped up when you heard his door slam shut, but you weren’t quick enough. His firm hands grabbed you and turned you to face him, shaking you just a little as he ran his eyes over you, gaze lingering on your tearful one.
“Hey…”
“Go away, Peter,” you said, fighting to get out of his grip.
His hold tightened, and he stepped closer.
“It’s late. Why are you out here on the street like this? What happened?”
You snatched one arm out of his hold and shoved yourself away from him.
“Did you know?”
His brows furrowed, frowning slightly at your question. His cheeks were red from the cold, giving him a cherubic aura that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Stark. Did you know that my father was getting me transferred to Princeton behind my back? That I’m supposed to be interning with your father as soon as I graduate?”
You registered the shock on his face, and he slowly shook his head, thrown by what you’d told him.
“No,” he softly said.
You crossed your arms over your chest, more tears falling.
“If I had known…I would’ve told you, Y/N.”
“Would you?” you scoffed.
His face hardened at your insinuation, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, I would have. Look, I may hate this 180 that you’ve done with your life just as much as your father, but even I know that you’re going to do what you want anyway. You always have.”
He whispered the last part, and your gaze reluctantly met his. He pursed his lips, running his eyes over you as he reached for you.
“Where are you headed?” he wondered.
It hit you that you hadn’t really had a destination in mind. Your eyes widened, and you were sure that the panic and confusion was written all over your face. You shrugged, a few tears escaping.
“I…I don’t know,” you pathetically answered.
Peter softly sighed, pulling you towards the limo.
“Well, I was on my way to a party-.”
He cut himself off as you started to shake your head. You didn’t know where you wanted to go, but you knew that a party was not it. He pulled on your jacket, and you stumbled towards him in your heels.
“Hey,” he softly said when your eyes started to stray, and you looked at him. “I’ve got a couple of bottles of champagne in the limo, a full tank of gas, and a driver who’s getting paid by the minute. I’ll take you wherever you wanna go.”
You glanced away, thinking it over. You couldn’t stomach the thought of being near your father right now, and although Peter had shaken you last night, in the end, it was just him being his usual self. Your uneasiness from his words last night you wrote off to sensitivity and overthinking. You suddenly let out a humorless chuckle.
“You promise to get me really, really drunk?” you teased.
You were joking, but you honestly didn’t want to even remember your conversation with your father right now. That familiar smirk of his graced his lips as he threw an arm over your shoulder, guiding you towards the car.
“I promise to get you anything you want,” he purred.
The inside was warm, and you had almost forgotten how roomy limos could be. The L-shaped seating could easily fit 4 more people. True to Peter’s words, there was indeed two bottles of champagne on ice, and he reached for one as soon as the vehicle continued down the dark street.
You leaned your head against the window as he popped it open, getting you a glass. You felt defeated, and you were sure your face showed it as you took the offered drink from him.
“So what are you gonna do?”
You shook your head at Peter’s question.
“What can I do, Peter?” you quietly wondered with a shrug. “I mean… If my father is willing to go this far to get me where he wants me to be…? What’s stopping him from doing so again and again and again?”
Peter leaned back in his seat, eyeing you as you sipped on the bubbly alcohol.
“I’ll never be free of him,” you said, more to yourself than Peter. “God, he really is going to get everything he wants. Looks like I’ll be seeing you in 3 years at our engagement party, after all.”
Peter slid along the seat to get closer to you, rolling his eyes.
“Come on,” he dragged out. “Would marrying me really be so bad?”
You almost choked on your drink, and you incredulously eyed him.
“We’ve been over this before, and the answer is yes. That’s if we can even get you to walk down the aisle.”
Peter sighed, sitting his drink down.
“I would marry you,” he argued, looking at you.
“Come on, Peter. You’re just saying that!”
You took another sip, thankful for the liquid courage.
“It’s all a game to you. It always has been. The minute you finally get with me, it’ll be over. Hell…,” you said, thinking. “…maybe I should sleep with you so you’ll finally leave me alone.”
Peter laughed, resting his arm behind you on the back of the seat.
“If I had you, I’d never leave you alone,” he replied, voice soft.
“Yeah,” you barked a laugh. “Okay…”
“I’m serious,” he said, tone matching his words, and you fought to hold his intense gaze. “When are we finally going to get together?”
You glanced away.
“You’ve asked me this probably a hundred times, and the answer is always the same,” you murmured.
“When are we finally going to stop playing this game?”
Your eyes met his again, brows furrowed.
“I wasn’t aware that we were playing a game-.”
“I want you,” he whispered so quietly that you weren’t sure you heard him right. “You know that, Y/N. I’ve always wanted you.”
There was a frown on his face, and you swallowed.
“You want everyone,” you quietly replied, suddenly feeling very odd.
You scooted away from him just a tad, but he followed.
“When I have you, Y/N, I won’t treat you like those other girls,” he told you.
“Ha! How reassuring,” you sarcastically replied.
His hand rested on your arm, and you squirmed, head feeling a bit light.
“I’m serious,” he murmured, hand trailing upwards to brush along your shoulder before resting on your neck. “You’re my best girl…”
You blinked at him with a frown, and he tilted his head at you, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Why would I treat my best girl like the rest?”
You shook your head, moving away from him some more.
“Maybe…maybe I should just go home after all. I’m not feeling so good, right now,” you told him, alarmed at how slurred your words were.
You watched as Peter reached to take another sip of his drink.
“Yeah,” he calmly said, taking your drink from your trembling fingers and setting it aside. “That would probably be the Rohypnol.”
You slowly blinked at him, trying to clear the fuzz from your head as you processed his words. Did he just say…Rohypnol? As in…?
“Roofie is the common term, also known as the date-rape drug.”
Your mouth felt dry, and you felt like you weren’t sliding away from him fast enough.
“Peter, this…this is a joke, right? You’re kidding…?”
He snorted, and even without his confirmation, you knew that he wasn’t kidding. Your head had been spinning for minutes now.
“Come on, Y/N. When have you ever known me to be a huge comedian?”
You fell against the door as you tried the handle, but it was locked, and that was when you really started to panic.
“Y/N.”
You ignored Peter as he called your name, opting instead for hitting against the partition. You heard Peter heave a sigh from behind you before his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you back. Your movements were sluggish and futile, but you fought against him anyway. He pulled you down onto his lap as he leaned back into the seat.
“Peter…”
Your words died in your throat as his hands clasped around the back of your neck, pulling you down until his lips met yours. The kiss was hungry, Peter a man starved as he moaned into your mouth. He was panting when he pulled away, chest heaving before he kissed you again.
Your hands were pressed against his chest, trying in vain to push yourself away from him. You gasped against his lips, heart stuttering when he flipped you, your frame now between his and the seat. He settled against you easily, fitting perfectly in between your legs as his fingers danced over you.
The buttons of your coat flew as he yanked it open, and you shivered. Peter paid no mind, running his hands over your exposed skin before sliding them under your dress. You felt like you were barely hanging onto consciousness, not even realizing when Peter had started to drag your underwear down your legs until they were already to your ankles.
You feebly kicked against him, but he simply grabbed your legs, spreading them to settle in between them once more. You could feel him hot and hard through his pants, and more tears kissed your eyes. How on earth had you missed this? You cursed yourself for not taking his behavior more seriously. For not listening to yourself last night.
Confident that you could not fight him off, one of his hands worked between your legs while the other worked to release himself. He was right to be confident, because no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your arms to work right. You felt like you were underwater, weighed down by sand.
“Peter,” you quietly pleaded again, and he shushed you.
You squirmed beneath him as he pushed his fingers in and out of you, hating how easy it was because of how wet you were. He pressed his mouth against yours, forcing his tongue past your lips, and you trembled as you felt him line himself up with your entrance.
A high-pitched yelp left you as he filled you with one thrust. The moan that climbed out of his throat was low and long, and he cursed as you clenched around him. Your hand pressed against the back of the seat as he pulled back before snapping his hips into you again.
“You feel so good,” he groaned into your mouth.
One arm locked around your waist as he pulled you both into a sitting position, his throbbing cock still inside of you as he held you onto his lap. You pushed against him, but your arms buckled when he lifted his hips up into you.
You whimpered, falling against him, and both of his hands fell to grip your waist, tightly holding you as he fucked you. Your body couldn’t support itself, and you sagged against him, forehead pressing against his as your eyelashes fluttered. Your jacket was barely hanging onto you, and with one hand, he pulled it all the way off. He gripped the bottom of your sequined dress before bunching it around your hips.
You tried to push yourself up, push yourself off of him, but not only was his hold firm, your body was too under the influence of the drug he’d given you. You pathetically whimpered as you fell against him again, a sob caught in your chest. He pressed a sloppy kiss to your neck, the strap of your dress falling, and you shuddered.
He pulled you into another kiss, the taste of your salty tears seeping into your mouth. Your head was light, mind spinning with the pleasure being forced onto you. You pressed your hand against the seat, attempting to push yourself away again when Peter spun you both, your back connecting with the seat as he laid you down, his clothed hips slapping against yours. He moaned into your mouth as you fluttered around him, and with a start, you realized that despite your unwillingness, an orgasm was creeping up on you.
Both of his hands rested on your cheeks as he kissed you again and again. His dark hair was falling into his forehead, sweat coating the strands, and your skin fared no better. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your stomach clenching, shamed and disgust coursing through you.
“Look at me,” Peter quietly demanded.
You shook your head but yelped when one of his hands reached to pinch your nipple through your dress. You peeled your eyes open, tears blurring your vision, but your gaze met his all the same.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured just as you clenched around him with a choked moan.
Your climax triggered his own, and he pushed into you a few more times before falling against you with a groan. You were both sweating and panting, and you felt the flames of sleep licking at the corners of your vision.
There was so much that you wanted to say to Peter, to scream at him, but you couldn’t form the words. You could only lay there as he kissed you again before pulling out of you, leaning back against the seat as he fixed himself. Sleep was just in your grasp, but you were scared to close your eyes. Scared of the man you thought you knew.
He spread his arm over the back of the seat, the other pulling your dress down, that annoying playful smirk dancing along his lips.
“I think a winter wedding would look absolutely beautiful.”
~
tags: @bamposworld @mcudarklibrary @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @buckybarnesplumwhore @harryspet @coconutqueen21 @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi​ @lokislastlove​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @hurricanerin​
2K notes · View notes
ayybtch · 4 years ago
Text
Snickerdoodles
Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers
Chapter 2 of Made With Love
Word Count: 3,198
Chapter Warnings: so sweet it’ll give you a cavity, some not so subtle wlw yearning from the reader, and a brief little moment of angst that will make you want to hug Wanda
A/N: A special thank you to @thefallenbibliophilequote for giving this a beta read for me! Dividers made by @firefly-graphics
Tumblr media
You were sitting at home watching TV when your phone lit up with a text notification from Wanda. You smiled and leaned over to grab your phone. 
Bucky is asking about chocolate chip cookies again. He’s driving me nuts!
You chuckled at the message as you typed out a reply, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or annoyed for your sake at how persistent he is. Though, we should probably take it as a sign you’re due for another baking lesson. How do snickerdoodles sound? 
Wanda agreed almost immediately and the two of you worked out a time for later that week. 
Mindlessly, you scrolled back up and started rereading some of your old conversations. It had been just over two weeks since Wanda had found her way into the bakery and made her disastrous batch of chocolate chip cookies. She had texted you not long after she left the bakery that night and the two of you had texted sporadically since. Her texts had started off very polite, if not outright formal. 
Hi. It’s Wanda. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do appreciate what you did today.
That had been her first message. Since then, the messages gradually became more casual. Most recently she had sent you a video Sam had recorded of Bucky begging her to make cookies on their flight home from a mission with nothing more than a series of eye-roll emojis. 
It was strange having a superhero take time out of her day to text you. Though, you couldn't deny the fact that each time she did, it left you grinning like an idiot. It’s not that you think poorly of yourself or that you thought you weren’t worthy of being friends with someone like her; it had far more to do with how unexpected it was. In fact, the whole process of meeting her was unexpected. How many other people alive were lucky enough to say that an Avenger casually walked into their kitchen asking to bake cookies? 
And how many people could say they had anyone, let alone an Avenger, smile at them the way Wanda smiled at you? 
You groaned at your own stupidity and forced yourself to put your phone down. That was enough ridiculousness for the day. You didn’t need to feed into this silly little crush you were developing. Wanda was your friend, nothing more. 
Tumblr media
It was three days later when Wanda finally walked back into the bakery. She stepped inside right as you finished tying your apron around your waist. You greeted her with a bright smile, which she returned in kind. 
“Hey, how has your day been?” you asked. 
She shrugged, “It’s been a day but something tells me it’s about to get better.” 
You tried not to show how flustered her words made you and rushed over to the sink to wash your hands. Wanda stood next to you and waited patiently for her turn. While she was washing her hands, you started speaking. 
“Okay so, snickerdoodles are the best cookies in existence and are stupid easy to make. Most of the process is similar to what we did for chocolate chip cookies, but there are a few differences. Why don’t we start off with having you refamiliarize yourself with where everything is in here?” You hand her the recipe you had written out for her, “Here you go. Grab everything you can find.”
Wanda read through the list carefully and was soon rummaging through the cabinets. She set each ingredient on the counter next to you as she found it until it looked like she had most of her items, but she kept pausing to reread the list. Her eyebrows were furrowed together as she turned to look back into the fridge, only to come back to the counter empty-handed.
 Her expression was a mixture of confusion and determination at the same time as her eyes focused on the ingredient list. It shouldn’t have been as cute as it was, but you couldn’t help but stare at the woman in front of you. It was almost shocking how green they were. Even when sad, her eyes were filled with warmth and kindness. Her mouth twisted slightly and drew your attention downwards. Were they naturally that pink? Or had she lucked out and found the most perfect shade of pink lipstick? They looked so soft and plump too, perfect lips for kissing...
You snapped back into focus as she said your name. “I’m sorry what was that? My mind drifted.”
She smiled and repeated herself. “The only things I’m missing are Crisco and cream of tartar. I looked in the fridge for the cream of tartar, but I didn’t see it and I have no idea where to begin with Crisco.”
You nodded as you walked towards one of the cabinets, opening it up as you began to speak. “I like your reasoning behind the cream of tartar, but unfortunately its name is a bit misleading. It’s a powder so it’s in the same cabinet as the cinnamon and sugar. The Crisco is up here too.”
You grabbed both items and set them next to the rest of the ingredients. Wanda picked up the can of Crisco and looked at it curiously. 
“What is vegetable shortening?” she asked. She opened up the can and stared at the white solid inside. “It almost looks like butter, but it’s also so white it almost looks like plastic?” The confusion on her face perfectly matched the confusion that seeped into her voice. 
You nodded along as she spoke, “It’s kind of like butter, which you can also use for this recipe if you wanted to. I think they turn out better when you make them with Crisco personally so I’ll only use butter if I’m in a pinch.
“Okay, so now we’re going to measure out two cups of Crisco into the mixer and start creaming it. From there we’ll gradually start adding in the sugar, cream of tartar, salt, and baking soda.”
Wanda nodded and got to work. As she scooped out the Crisco and smushed it into the measuring cup, she made a face that had you grinning.
“What’s with the look?”
She made it again as she continued working. “Don’t laugh at me, but it feels funny. I know it’s not that different from butter, but I usually don’t have to touch butter this much to figure out the amount! It’s gross.”
You didn’t laugh but continued to grin for the entire time she measured out the Crisco. A sigh of relief left her as she finally finished with the Crisco and got to wash her hands.
“These better be the best cookies on the planet after making me touch that,” she said, giving you a teasing look.
A sheepish smile spread across your face as she spoke. “I hate to tell you this...but you’re going to end up touching the cookie dough again. Like, you are going to be touching it a lot.” You cut off her groan and continued to the next step in the recipe, “Now we’re going to add the eggs and milk.” 
She nodded and began measuring out how much milk she needed. Once that was done, the eggs were added in and she turned the mixer back on. She waited a few minutes before turning the mixer back off. “Time for the flour now, yes?” she asked, turning to face you. You nodded and she began measuring it out.
After the last of the flour was added, she reached for the switch on the mixer.
Before you even thought to remind her to start slow, the mixer was going full speed and flour was flying everywhere. Wanda rushed to turn it off but by the time she did, she was covered head to toe in a dusting of flour. 
She stared over at you with wide eyes for a moment before bursting out laughing. 
You had heard her laugh before, but never like this. This was full-bellied, tears running down her face laughter. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Hell, you were willing to bet it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever be fortunate enough to hear. Soon you were laughing along with her.
Each time the laughter started to die, Wanda looked down at her clothing and burst out laughing all over again. It took almost five minutes for the two of you to calm down enough to even start to think about getting back to the cookies. 
“Well, I guess I’m doing laundry after this.” She shook her head rapidly and more flour came floating down off her hair, making her giggle. “And I think a shower might also be in order.” 
You started laughing again at her words. “We’ll have to get you an apron to help protect your clothes. Though, if you keep turning a mixer on to full speed like that it still won’t do you much good,” you teased. 
Wanda stuck out her tongue in response before slowly starting the mixer back up. She stared into the bowl as the flour began to mix in with the rest of the ingredients and her face twisted.
“How do we know that there’s enough flour still in there with how much just flew out?” 
You just shrugged, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. If it’s too sticky when we start trying to form the balls we’ll add in some more.”
The dough mixed for another couple of minutes before Wanda turned it off. You leaned over and pinched off a tiny piece of the dough and rolled it around in your hands before popping it into your mouth. 
A satisfied hum left your mouth and you nodded enthusiastically. “It’s perfect,” you said. “No need for anything extra.” You reached into a drawer and grabbed two spoons before handing one to Wanda. 
“So what we’re going to do now is roll them into small little balls about an inch in size. Once they’re as round as we can get them, we’re going to roll them around in the cinnamon and sugar.” You gestured towards the two bowls in front of you. “Any questions?”
Wanda shook her head no and the two of you got to work.
It didn’t take long for Wanda to get the hang of making the individual rolls and coating them evenly in the cinnamon and sugar mixture. A comfortable silence fell over you as the first batch was placed on the baking trays.
“So, what made you want to become a baker?”
You smiled as you answered, “My parents both cooked a lot when I was growing up so being in the kitchen is like second nature to me. My dad and I spent a lot of time baking together around the holidays and as I got older, I was put in charge of making whatever treats we wanted. By the time I graduated high school, I couldn’t see myself doing anything else.” Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “What about you? What did you want to be before you became a superhero?” 
“Definitely not a baker,” she teased, a grin spreading across her face. You chuckled and she continued. “I wanted to be a lot of different things, but one of the most consistent things was being an actress. I always thought it would be fun to star in a cheesy sitcom.” 
You grinned at the thought. “You’d make a great sitcom character! Though it would be such a waste of great material if your character could bake. Between the salt last time and the flour just a minute ago, you’ve naturally got some great material right here.” 
“If you don’t stop that, I will throw this cookie dough at you,” she groaned. You wiggled your eyebrows at her words. 
“You know, that has to be one of the least threatening things someone has ever said to me,” you teased. 
She groaned again and changed topics. “So how did you end up working here? It’s not exactly your average place to start looking for a baking job.”
You laughed and nodded along. She had a point, this was a very strange place to work in general but especially for someone who bakes for a living.  “Technically, I don’t actually work for SHIELD. I’m just on loan from Stark Industries. ” She looked over at you curiously so you continued.
“I catered an event once that Tony went to, back in his pre-Iron Man days. He offered me a stupid amount of money to come work for him so I did. Right around the time he started working closely with SHIELD, I had some...creative differences with one of the other bakers he had employed so I was able to transfer over here.” 
Wanda had all but stopped working as you spoke. “What do you mean by ‘creative differences’? How do bakers have creative differences?” 
“It’s more of a euphemism than anything. She was my ex. We broke up and it was just a little rocky working with her after that, you know? We were still professional and all, but there was enough underlying tension that I didn’t hesitate to apply when they told us about this position.” 
She nodded and slowly started working again. A few moments of silence passed before she spoke again. 
“Well, I’m sorry that things didn’t work out between you and her. Breakups are never easy.” Her voice was gentle and honest, which made you smile.
“Nah, don’t be sorry. People don’t work out sometimes and that’s okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh as you continued, “Besides, she thinks snickerdoodles taste better when you make them with butter. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life.”
The two of you burst out laughing and the conversation resumed.
Tumblr media
Almost an hour later, six dozen cookies were carefully being set into plastic baggies for Wanda to carry back to the Avengers quarters. Each batch had cooked up perfectly and you couldn’t help but melt at the proud look on Wanda’s face. With every batch that came out just as perfect as the last, her confidence grew until she was smiling so brightly she overpowered everything else in the room. 
As she finished sealing the last bag, a satisfied hum left her and she turned to face you. 
“Once again, I don’t even know where to begin thanking you. Not only for the cookies but for the time we spent together this afternoon. It’s not often that I meet people who treat me like a normal person.” Her voice was dripping with gratitude as she spoke and your face felt hot. 
“Once again,” you teased, mirroring her words, “There is nothing to be thanking me for. I’m always happy to help when and where I can. But, we should probably at least try the cookies first before anything else.”
Wanda nodded enthusiastically and quickly pulled two cookies back out of the baggies. She handed you one before grabbing hers and taking her first bite. 
She let out a satisfied hum as she chewed. “This is the best cookie I have ever tasted in my life,” she mumbled, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she spoke. She paused abruptly and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh my god, I’m turning into Bucky!” she groaned, “I did not just moan over a cookie and talk with my mouth full. What is wrong with me?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, if you’re going to moan and talk while you eat because of a cookie, this is the cookie to do it. I do think we’ll have to find something a little more challenging than cookies for you next time, though.”
Her eyes lit up in excitement. “What about bread? Could we do bread next?”
“Six successful batches of cookies and you think you’re ready for bread now, huh?” you teased. 
Wanda took the teasing in stride and responded just as cheekily, “I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I do know how to make the most incredible snickerdoodles and chocolate chip cookies on the planet now. So you better watch out or I might just end up coming for your job.” 
You grinned, “I’d like to see you try.” 
The two of you continued to giggle at each other’s nonsense as Wanda washed her hands and began collecting the bags in her arms. “So, we’ll figure out something soon yeah?” 
You nodded and moved to open the door for her as you spoke. “Definitely! It most likely won’t be bread though, I hate to break it to you.” 
Wanda rolled her eyes dramatically, but the smile on her face showed she was anything but upset. The two of you said your goodbyes and she made her way out of the bakery.
Tumblr media
As you crawled into bed that night, you couldn’t help but replay the conversations in your head. Talking with Wanda had been the most exciting social interaction you had in years. She was so genuinely interested in getting to know you and asked you so many questions about yourself, but was never shy about answering questions about herself in turn. 
“So what’s it like being an Avenger?” you asked, unable to hold back your curiosity any longer. 
She paused and shrugged, “Honestly, it’s really not as great as some people make it out to be. I know that I should be grateful for the opportunity to make a difference and for having the ability to keep people safe, but more often than not the bad outweighs the good.” She paused for a moment before continuing, “You don’t always get the bad guys and so many people still accuse me of being one of them. There are always so many cameras pointed at me. Sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.” 
You nodded, sympathy rising in your chest. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I know my opinion probably doesn’t count for much, but I don’t think you’re a bad guy; I don’t think you ever really were.”
Her smile was blinding as she replied, “Your opinion means everything.”
That had been one of the more serious moments, though the majority of it had been filled with laughter. At one point, she had started trying to teach you some basic words in Sokovian. You stumbled over the words repeatedly, but she continued to be nothing but patient and supportive. The buzzing of your phone drew your thoughts away from Wanda momentarily, only to see a text from her.
I keep thinking about what you said earlier today. I think you’re right.
You stared at the message with confusion as you hastily typed out a response, I am right, but remind me what I’m right about?
Three dots appeared on the screen then disappeared. A minute later, a message appeared. 
They’re better with Crisco. I haven’t tried them with butter but I don’t need to. You’re also right in that you don’t need the “butter Snickerdoodles are better” negativity in your life. You deserve nothing but the best.
323 notes · View notes
linksthoughtbrambles · 3 years ago
Text
[Link's missed opportunity for a career in catering and event-planning.]
(Link's Thought Brambles part 6)
The sun’s angle is just right. It’s like she’s glowing. Well, glowing on the outside. She’s so beautiful, and she holds her head high, but you can just see it. Like she’s fighting the weight of a talus to keep it that way. She has to ride side-saddle with that dress. Even Tass seems like he’s dragging irons by his hooves. Clop clop slow clop. There’s another nodder. And another hat-tipper.
“Morning, Princess.”
Oooh, we got a few words there.
“Good morning, sir.”
There’s not a single real smile anywhere. The best she ever gets is one of those awkward fake-smiles you make when you know you should but you just don’t feel like it.
Was there a time when people would rush to their windows to see the Princess pass? Maybe little kids would gasp and run too close to the horse in excitement. And then the Princess would have to stop and talk to them, and they’d smile at her for real. And maybe she’d smile back. Father never mentioned anything like that, but he wouldn’t even if it’d happened.
Even when people speak kindly of her, they do it in hushed tones. Like they’re at a wake. When grandma died, I didn’t understand why mom and Father both kept shushing me. I still don’t really get it, but I sure got better at being quiet.
There’s two kids! What are they up to? Ah. They’re completely stopping their fun and being quiet until we pass, that’s what.
I feel like this calls for some bribery on our part. We should carry some candy around. Then again, if I were one of these kids’ parents, and I was already iffy about the Princess, and she gave them candy, I might get miffed because I’d see it as an underhanded way of getting the kids to like her. Which, to be fair, is exactly what it would be. Too bad, it’d be a good excuse for me to make a truly massive batch of mom’s caramels. No kitchen of my own, though. I could write mom, she would make those for me. But she couldn’t make enough for Castle Town’s kids without costing her a fortune. Yeah, it would definitely cost a lot. Not a lot for the kitchen here but a lot for one family. I guess I’d have to ask them at the castle kitchen, which means I’d have to give them mom’s recipe. Not sure if she’d mind. I doubt it.
Uh oh, would that be insulting? I’d be saying my mom’s sweets are better than theirs. But it’s not like it’s everything, those caramels are just amazing. The salt is critical. We could do batches of all the different combinations she’s found over the years. Those little pink berries that taste like peppercorns were a stroke of pure genius.
Would they even do it if I asked? The steward would have to approve, I guess. And, uh, once again, I’d have to actually talk to them.
Maybe I could just ask the Princess what she thinks.
Who am I kidding? That’s not happening. Oh right, I already decided bribery was a bad idea. So, I guess no caramel. Disappointing.
Maybe she could set aside some time to have a kid playtime event? Or maybe a charity thing where kids do something fun and people sponsor them and the crown gives the money to an orphanage? They already do the cookhouse near the quarry. I guess it could go toward that. Oooh, we could have a bunch of different little competitions like leaping, racing, tumbling, maybe archery and riding for the older kids. Something silly like an egg-toss might be fun. We can have teams with different colored sashes and they have to toss the eggs with the sashes, no hands allowed! Oh, ho, we can dye the eggs the colors of the sashes so we know whose is whose! No cheating! Ha!
I’m getting carried away, though. This needs input from the Princess. I wouldn’t want to add to her burdens. Something like this might help, but all the stuff I’m thinking is, well, me-like. Linkish. What about her? What would be something she’d enjoy? Something special only she could bring to the table?
Again, I guess I would have to ask her.
Imagine what she’d think if I started asking her about organizing a round of games for the Castle Town kids, dyeing eggs and sashes, and making fancy caramels? Is there a worse way to confirm that I am utterly un-legendary-hero-like? Always remember, remember, remember to keep your mouth shut, shut, SHUT. You'll scare the crap out of her if she starts to think you can’t handle your role in all this. She’s worried enough about her own sealing power.
.
Here we are. Don’t forget the satchel. Not that anyone’s likely to take it, but losing the slate would be the last straw for her.
Lovely. It’s glower-priestess.
“Princess. It’s been too long since you graced us with your presence.”
Jibe number one. That was fast.
“May the light illuminate your path, mother. Thank you for greeting me.”
“Of course. The light is ever in the Goddess’ house. Prayer is needed now more than ever, that her light may illuminate your path as well.”
“Y- yes.”
You’re kidding me. Does she really believe she doesn’t pray enough, or does she enjoy this?
“I should like to begin my devotions.”
I’m betting it’s the second option.
“We shall pray with you, highness, that the Goddess may move your spirit.”
As if your prayers are any better than hers.
“Thank you, mother.”
Maybe she just thinks if she seems more pious than the blood of the Goddess people will think she’s the priestiest priestess in Hyrule. Maybe she’s angling for the crown to build a new monastery. No, wait, those are for monks. She’s not a monk, she’s a priestess. What do you call it where a priestess lives? Can’t ask. Weird question.
“Sir Link.”
She’s talking to me?
“Perhaps the Princess would benefit from your blessing.”
“My what?”
“The conclave has communed for some time on the revelation of the hero. The Goddess has gifted you the sword that seals the darkness. Your connection with her is established. Your blessing may aid the awakening of our princess’ power.”
There are so many things wrong with- what?
She does not at all want me to bless her. That even sounds creepy.
What do I say? If I do it, I’ll humiliate her. If I refuse, it’ll cause all sorts of problems. They’ll start saying I don’t have faith in the Goddess or that I don’t think the Princess is worthy of my stupid blessing and realistically I’ve never been very pray-ee myself though I do when she does and I am taking much too long to answer but I can’t hurt her and I can’t give them another excuse to-
“Sir Link.”
Oh no. Not with that voice. “Yes, Princess?”
“Have you ever performed a blessing?”
“No.”
“Are you ordained as a priest or monk?”
“No.”
“Would you feel comfortable blessing me?”
Mouth very dry again. Happening a lot lately. “Princess, you already have my blessing.”
“Boy, you just said you have never performed a blessing. This is a contradiction.”
You know what? I’m not talking to glower-priestess. She’s not the one who matters, here. “Princess, you have my blessing, just as you have my respect, loyalty, protection and faith. You already had those things regardless of ceremony. Do you- should I pray with you?” I do anyway. But you don’t know that. “I will support you however you wish.”
Dead.
Silence.
Goddess. Please, no. What will it do to her reputation if she can't hold those tears back?
“Thank you, Sir Link. I- I welcome your- your continued willingness to assist me. Perhaps your faith in the Goddess will catalyze my own.”
Is that a tiny smile? She must be forcing it.
“Perhaps we should allow you some time to study the religious forms. We can- we can return to the Sacred Ground properly prepared.”
“As you wish, Princess.” That sounds like I’ll have to do it. But at least it became her decision instead of mine, or this woman's next to me. And it won’t be today.
“In the meantime, please do join me in prayer.”
_____
[Note: Link would like to eat some caramel. He would also like to dye eggs and make sure the colors matched the sashes perfectly. It's no accident that his earrings and hair ties match his eyes and are exactly the same shade.]
[Other Note: Tass is the short name for Zelda's royal white stallion. Its full name is much longer and more nerdy. Link has never heard it.]
Read Next: [Link finds formalized services distracting]
Read this fanfic from the beginning (it makes more sense that way).
Follow this link to the post list for this fic.
19 notes · View notes
dearest-bucky · 4 years ago
Text
Burning heart (One Shot)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?
Words: 3.8K
Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)
Originally posted: February 24, 2020
The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.
She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.
It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.
From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”
“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.
Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.
Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.
But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.
She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.
Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.
Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.
“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.
She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.
“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.
Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.
Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.
Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.
Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.
They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.
Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.
“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.
“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.
Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.
“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”
He nodded and kissed her head.
Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.
Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.
Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.
He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.
They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.
He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.
“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.
She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.
“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.
He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.
The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.
***
Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.
Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.
When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and  scars.
Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.
This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.
As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.
She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.
“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.
Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.
Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.
Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.
Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.
He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.
“Will you let me look at your wounds?  Steve said you’re shot-”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.
“I don’t need your help.”
His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.
He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.
Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.
Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.
*
Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.
When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.
He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.
When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.
“You’re awake.”
“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.
“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…��� she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.
He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.
Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.
She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.
She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.
She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.
***
The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.
It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.
Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.
He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.
He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.
He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.
Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.
He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.
She was having a nightmare.
He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.
As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.
Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.
“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.
She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.
“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.
“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”
Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.
“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.
His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.
“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.
Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.
“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”
Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.
“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.
Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.
She shook her head.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”
He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.
“Buck..”
“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.
“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.
He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.
“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.
At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.
“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.
“Please don’t.”
It was barely a whisper and  if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.
He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.
Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.
“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”
She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.
“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”
That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.
128 notes · View notes
abloomntime · 3 years ago
Text
A Bloom In Time Ch19 Paintings By Ghosts
(It took me A LONG time to research and find out what all the paintings in Hat Kid's gallory looked like. If I missed any or got any wrong please let me know. All mentioned paintings can me seen in the painting room through the green door in the machine room of the ship.)
Lunch breaks were nice.
She was starving so before anything else she wanted to get somethin' in her stomach. Looking in the lil gal's fridge, there really wasn't too much of anything. It was all pretty empty except for a basket of apples, half a cheese wheel, and what looked like a carton of eggs. Well, she wasn't about to not get something to eat, and down at least three of those apples she had. They weren't as sweet tasting as she remembered the ones her father grew on their farm were, but as if this person was going to start complaining about food at this point of her life. Sure her life was REALLY crazy up to this calm point, all of it sounded like a really bad story, she was going to have to learn a whole knew pecking world different from her old one, and she was going to have to deal with her past. But if there was one thing she needed to do now was take that darn ghost's advice.
"The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you. But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers."
He was right. What had happened happened and there's no way she was going back there anyways, so it looks like she'd just have to start where she left off way back when. Hard work. Save up enough pons. And get that flower stand! May not seem like a giant grand idea like some would expect, but that's what she always wanted. A life where she could surround herself by precious beautiful flowers admiring their beauty and scent and give them all to people who enjoyed them as much as she does. Her blue eyes reflected in the gold coloring of the bracelet that was still tight around her wrist, bringing her other hand up to clamp around it to herself. Her business may have never taken off if that one fateful encounter with the handsome and kind prince from the neighboring kingdom hadn't taken such interest in the way she grew her little babies. He never said one bad thing about them. Complimenting on how deep a red her roses are and surprising him when she said they didn't just come in red...She chuckled remembering that silly surprised face of his.
The prince stared at her shocked, brown eyes blinking as she held out the white and red rose bouquet to him. "Wow. You're telling me they really come in more than three colors?"
She nodded  back at him. "Yep! How many colors did you think they came in?"
He figeted fiddling with the soft petals of one white rose nervously. "W-Well. I knew there was a whole bunch of red ones, and I knew there was white ones because my mother always uses then for balls. A-And I saw black roses at my grandmother's burial. May she rest in peace.....Wait." His brown eyes widened as he stared at her. Poppy blinked when he suddenly put his hands on her stand leaning forward a little. "H-HOW MANY COLORS OF ROSES ARE THERE?! I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW!!"
After a moment, the red head smiled and gestured to a whole slew of potted roses behind her he didn't seem to notice and his jaw dropped at the sight of them all. "Well, you sure like to learn things, so let me tell ya a thing or two about roses. There's all different breeds of roses, but all of them fall under one of the eleven color catagories ya hear? There's red, white, n black like you're used to seein'. But then there's yellow, blue, pink, purple, orange, and even green!"
His eyes landed to a beautiful batch of emerald green roses Poppy pointed out and his eyes widened more. "Those would be perfect for Vanessa! They match her emerald eyes so perfectly." He smiled and turned to Poppy. "I'd love to have some....But wait." He counted on his fingers. "Red, white, black, yellow, blue, pink, purple, green, orange-....That's only nine. I thought you said there was eleven."
She giggled. "You caught me! You see. Some are different shades of blue or pinks, but they'd still be classified under those colors, but some roses have two colors on them."
"You're KIDDING!"
"Nope!" Turning around. She spotted one of her hanging planters and reached up to pluck one of the ones near the top, carefully minding the thorns and brought it down to him. He stared at it in amazement. IT REALLY DID HAVE TWO COLORS!! It was a yellow rose but the tips of the petals were a dark pink, almost red as Poppy smiled at it. "This is what you call a Bi-Color pattern. Some breeds of roses have two colors like this. They're really popular at birthdays. But...If you want something real purty like." She set the single rose down and looked at him. "I got one more surprise for the history books."
"And what would that be?"
"Rainbow roses." He blinked confused so she held up a hand and bent down to rummage around under her stand. "I wanted to keep these hidden for the time being because I wanted to sell my over stock of other roses first since an unexpected amount bloomed this year. And you know how everyone's gonna be itchin' to buy their loved ones flowers on Cupid's Day. I wanted to sorta save these for special customers." She grabbed a small pot of something and stood up. Holding the pot just enough to be seen by him leaning over the stand and no one else passing by. His. Jaw. DROPPED. THEY WERE RAINBOW!!! Every color save for black and white was on there. All in different places on the petals and some petals being full different colors along with blended petals with two different colors mixed on them. They almost didn't look real. As if someone painted on them blindly with multiple paints. Poppy gazed at them lovingly. "My Great Great Granddaddy Willow 'Tree' Bloomington was able to cross breed all kinds of roses together until he made them. "
"I heard of him before. He used to be the Royal Gardener for the Old Owl King didn't he? They say the gardens were never more beautiful than when he was in charge."
She nodded but frowned. "That's right. That ol' birdbrain wanted my great great granddaddy to never share his masterpiece with anyone else. Wanted them all to himself, but that's like askin' an artist to not show off his art. So when he retired, he stole a few clippings and fled the country. Since then these beautiful little guys have been my family's birthright. We're extremely picky about who gets them...Or at least I am. Papa thinks I should've just stayed on the farm and become a milk maid like Mama." The prince's eyes softened at the small frown on her face but she was quick to smile again for an important customer. "So! Will it just be the one bouquet for ya, Princey? Or were ya'll still interested in those pretty green ones?" She asked as she tucked away the beautiful colorful ones again.
"I..." he glanced over to the emerald green ones then to the giant one he was already holding....And smiled again. "You know I think I will take another lovely arrangement of those too. Equal size."
Poppy smiled. "Coming right up, Your Highness!" In a few moments, she held out a pretty arrangement of green roses the shade of Vanessa's eyes all wrapped up in pretty white paper. "Two extra large bouquets will be eight pons please-" She paused and blinked when the white and red rose bouquet was held out to her and eight tiny green diamonds were dropped to the stand. "Oh. Do you need me to hold that?"
"N-No. T-they're for you."
"Me? Why? I thought you wanted to give Princess Vanessa double flowers."
"Uh.." He quickly gave a nervous smile. "W-W-Well, on Cupid's Day people give their friends and f-family too. It's all about spreading love to those you care about. It doesn't have to mean romanticism at all! Especially because I consider you a close friend!" He grinned wider nervously and wished he could push himself for how weird he must've looked. But Poppy just smiled.
"Well aren't you sweet?" She happily took the roses from him. "Now I can see why so many people like ya! And why Princess Vanessa took a likin' to ya! Such a gentleman to everyone! But are you sure you're not givin' me my own flowers?"
"Hey. I paid for them, so technically they were my flowers to do as I pleased with, and I w-wanted to show my appreciation to my.....f-friend."
"Aw. Ya'll just too kind. If that's the case, then you don't need to pay for mine."
He held up his hand and grabbed the green rose bouquet. "No, no. You did the hard work growing them. I ordered them in the first place. And they're already cut. The least I could do was pay the four pons for them. B-Besides. I don't believe in special treatment."
"Well alright. If ya insist. But here." She looked back down to the yellow n pink rose she had picked to show him and picked it up again, minding the thorns and holding it out to him. "Here! A small token from one friend to another too! On the house!"
He smiled and slowly took it from her. "Well then...Thank you, friend....I-I..Should probably be getting these to Vanessa."
"That's a fair point. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting on Cupid's Day. It's the most romantic day of the year!"
"Heh. Yeah....L-Love."
Sells really did increase after word of the prince buying her flowers went around. That day alone must've been her best Cupid's Day ever cuz right after he left with those green roses a woman came up to her and asked for five purple roses for her parents and sisters followed by others. She sold her normal quote for flowers that day plus lots of extras! She was able to get lots of work providing for small weddings in the town square, parties, and other festive times. All because of one friend's kindness. She felt guilty now that she only got so much business from his reputation but this time she'd have to really work for her dream! And she was totally going to be the best florist anyone's every had in a thousand years! For now she'd just rest a little while and help out with whatever that purple onion jack o lanturn had in mind, and wait to see what he was planning. She wasn't sure what to expect from a giant ghost but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Poppy made her way back out the kitchen's double doors after dipositing her third apple core into the trashcan in the corner, and the scene in the control room made her smile. The two girls were sitting on pillows a little ways from the television playing with the gold castle, it looked like a game of princess since Bow was making a princess doll scream help from the tower and Hattie was acting out the villain with that golden mafia man. The other old things like the gold pencil and cookie was all in a small random pile a few feet from them both.
"You will never have the princess! She'll be locked away forever and the kingdom of gold will be mine! Muahahaha!!," Hattie said in a fake deep man's voice.
"Oh yeah! Well I, Sir Cat-o-lot, will save her!," Bow threatened back holding out a small black cat plush. They must've heard her giggling when she came down cuz they both looked up at her as she came in and Bow waved at her. "Hi, Poppy! Wanna play?"
"Yeah! You can be the giant who comes and steals the gold up the apple tree in the sky!...Or was it a bush in the sky?"
"I'd love to, Pumpkins. But I still gotta job to do, don't you remember? I'd rather finish it and then relax a lil bit. There anywhere we missed?"
Hattie shook her head. "No. Rumbi already swept everywhere, the painting room was so small and easy. He's still sweeping the engine room."
"What about the mail room?,'' Bow asked pointing to the yellow tunnel entrance poking out from the wall near the engine room door. "It has junk mail all over the place after Mayor Mafia Glasses read through them all."
Mail room huh? Well she didn't know who this Mayor mafia ..glasses?? was, but if it was the last room she needed to clean then she might as well get it all done. Then she could finally relax for the day. Walking over the yellow entrance, the children went back to their little game giggling. Great. This entrance looked small too, she'd probably have to crawl through there as well and drag the broom behind her like last time. Leaning down, she peeked inside....And fell backwards with a yell. Both girls flinched and looked up at her loud yell as Poppy stumbled before landing on her behind at the sight of two yellow glowing eyes and mouth smiling at her from the darkness. A high pitched raspy laugh rang out and two clawed hands reached out to grab the outside of the yellow tunnel, before the darkness pulled himself out smiling and revealing himself to be non other than the famous snatching ghost himself. Poppy's scared and confused face quickly turned to one of anger as she scowled.
"I should have known!"
"AHAHAHAHA!! You should've seen how utterly scared you looked! That's a feeling I never get tired of seeing any day," he rasped out and looked down smiling at her as Poppy stood up and dusted herself off. Giving him a scowl.
"So is THIS one of the pranks I heard about? Y'know for 'the most powerful ghost on this measly planet' that sure wasn't very impressive."
"HEY!" He scowled back and crossed his arms. "There's NOTHING wrong with a classic hide and go boo routine! Works almost a hundred percent of the time! And you're one to talk about not impressive work." He jabbed a claw over at the watching girls. "Playing and walking around when there's work to be done? That's not productive at all."
"We're already finished."
".........WHAT?!" It took him a few moments to register what she said but when he did his head snapped to her so fast she was afraid it was going to float off and faze through the wall. "You couldn't have cleaned an entire ship in one day?!"
"Well, to be fair we aren't all the way done." She pointed behind him with a deadpanned look. " We're waiting for Rumbi. An' I still need to go fix up whatever's up there and I need to hammer a plank of wood back in place upstairs since we found gold buried under it. Now excuse me." Snatcher gave off a confused noise when Poppy just pushed his tail aside and went back to peer back up into the yellow tunnel. She could see a light and some kind of papers floating around everywhere. "Hey! One of yall get me the broom and somethin' to catch a bunch of flying paper." Bow nodded dropping her toys in favor of running off to the kitchen as Poppy turned back to the tunnel and started crawling her way up it towards the light.
"You found what under what?!" Snatcher turned back as Poppy disappeared into the yellow tunnel. "H-HEY! Don't you know it's rude to walk away from your boss when he's talking to you about your contractual obligations!?" When he didn't get an answer he stuck his head in the tunnel entrance. "Yes? No? HELLO!! Why aren't you saying anything?!"
"Y'know, for a dead guy you sure have a loud mouth!," she called back smiling when she heard him sputter.
"WHAT?! The peck I'm not! You're the one ignoring me!" He floated through the walls after her snorting form.
"Maybe so but I think your bark is worse than your bite, Purple Onion! What are you doing here anyways? I thought ya were busy." Her face popped up out of the entrance just in time for it to get smacked by a very old envelope, to which she shook her head and got it off to gawk around. Papers were flying around alright, they were laying all over the place if they were flying about or in a big pile on the other side of the room. In the middle of the room was a desk with two pans on it. One was green and said IN and the other was red and said OUT. There was also a few pole blocker things in front of the desk like the ones around those metal table things she'd been seeing around. A small coffee table stood off to one side of the room with two blue seated cushioned seats, near the entrance was two metal deviders and a giant wooden dresser, and to her far left was a giant basket filled with more old letters, a fan, and a pale carpet stood under the desk. She gazed up hearing a snicker and Snatcher was there probably because of the letter smacking her face. Before giving a grunt when a piece of paper smacked him in the pace making her snort again. "Not so funny yourself Mr. Meany."
He swiped the letter off his face scowling and staring at her. "HEY! I'm not completely heartless you know. Every so often I steal letters from others and deliver them to my minions as if they were getting something. It helps lift their spirits so to speak. And to answer your question." He threw the paper away which fluttered to the ground. "I often come back and check on new employee's progress every few hours or so, this is no different. But I have to say I'm suprised with how reliant you were for this tack."
"Well I did have the two best helpers in the world." She smiled and finally got to stand up in the room looking around with a hum. "This one might be a little tricky, but can't be worse than a room of snow. And I still have to hammer that bourd back. Bow tugged it loose after that gold."
"Where the peck did you all get the gold? Im pretty sure I don't pay you until after the job is done, as I'm not legally obligated to pay for unfinished work."
"From the Roach King."
"The Roach what?!"
"Ask them if ya'll want some answers." She turned hearing some footsteps behind her and smiled seeing Bow in the entrance to the yellow hallway. A broom and dustpan in one hand and a trashbag in the other. "Well, why thank you honeybunch!" She reached over hand out for them and Bow handed them over.
"I couldn't find any nets, so I thought you could use the bag to catch them?"
Poppy smiled standing back up and looking over to the mail floating around and sighed. "Actually I think we'll be needing a lot more bags if we want to clear all this mess out." She pointed towards the giant pile of letters along the wall. "That spinny thing there is propellin' these here letters up and then they're blown all 'round the room makin' a mess. We'll have to just get rid of all this junk."
Bow scratched her head. "How? I don't think they'll all fit in the trashcan."
Poppy smiled and looked up towards Snatcher who after staring a couple seconds back to her finally got a sense of what she was thinking. "HEY! Just a pecking second here! You're not pawning them off on me!"
"I'm not. You can just take 'em and give them all to those precious lil helpers of yours can't ya?"
"Well...Yes. But who are you to decide what I DO with my time?"
"Oh c'mon. it'll be so sweet of ya." Her big blue eyes shined at him as she smiled up towards him. "Won't ya just help a gal out with this just once? You're other uh...'employees' would really get a hoot from it too-"
"OH ALRIGHT!!" He turned his head away. Anymore staring at her smile and he'd start feeling mushy which he hated. "But I expect YOU to get them all ready to go for me! Since Im not legally obligated to help with cleaning."
Poppy eagerly agreed and sent Bow back to grab more bags from her as she got to work picking up a few of the letters scattered about on the floor at her feet. Snatcher having nothing else to do at the moment decided to leave the mail room and fazed through the wall back into the control room in time to see Bow slam open the kitchen doors and run in. At the sight of her ghostly BFF, Hattie sprung up and bounded up to him. Chattering about how much of a good helper she had been and how she was STILL a better helper cu technically she was still cleaning....Well really Rumbi was the one sweeping away at the engine room but she put him there in the first place. And then when his yellow eyes looked over at all the random gold objects laying in a pile, he pointed a claw and asked about it. Her face lit up even more and she went on a long spree about how she found these mysterious notes in her room and then Poppy found a whole bunch more while cleaning and then they followed them up all the way to the attic. And then Hattie went on to tell him about how Bow busted open a plank of wood from the side of the staircase in the attic and it turns out there was gold in it! Speaking of Bow, she had burst back out of the kitchen sometime during her ramble and dragged a good number of black trash bags behind her disappearing into the yellow entrance most likely going to delivery them to Poppy. In the mean time Hattie told him all about how this roach stole her gold potion and turned all this stuff and the gold potion itself into gold. Holding up the objects one by one up to him. The cookie, the gear, the potion, and her most proud posession the gold castle which she beamed with happiness eager to show it off to him. If he was anyone else he would've called her reaction cute, but all it got was a small half smile from the ghost before the hatted child had the brilliant idea he should come and see the notes for himself. Eh...Why the peck not right? He had literally nothing else better to do while waiting on the cleaning duo up there, and he was sure Minion Number 47 could run the place for a little while longer in his absence. She WAS head of the manor staff when she was alive so she'd have no trouble giving orders to lots of people on a tight scheduale. He saw the notes alright, and this mysterious Roach King they were all talking about. The gold roach statue sat ontop of the papers he apparently left out for them to follow and Snatcher couldn't help but read through them all not that the child seemed to mind at all. She left in the middle of him reading through them, saying something about needing to check up on Rumbi but he didn't care. He was honestly surprised at the letters addressed to the girls, having such kind words to say about them both, but they weren't wrong either. In fact they were very accurate to their positive nature, but if he could add a few things it'd be childish, sassy, and a whole bunch of other things to describe them then just having a gold heart. As they were much more than a gold heart, but hey. The guy turned himself into gold. What was he supposed to expect from him? Placing the notes and gold statue of the roach wearing a crown, he decided it was about time he headed back and see what was up. Imagine his slight surprise when he popped his head through a wall and saw what looked like a large round black ball stuck in the entrance to the slide. Which gave way a moment later and tumbled to the floor revealing itself to be a full trashbag and Hattie tumbling after it landing on her stomach with a thud. The hatted child pushed her self up pushing the comically large hat off her face and scowling at the bag. Snatcher could only watch in amuzement as she rolled it over towards four other full trashbags near the control panel.
"Sheesh, Kid. That's a lot of mail," he commented.
"There's three more bags," Hattie groaned before hanging her arms and stomping her way way towards the slide entrance as yet another bag was having a hard time exiting. Most likely by Bow shove it. "Cleaning is so BORING! Why do I gotta do it?"
"You're not the only one, Kid. And by the sound of things, you've never would've found that gold if you didn't clean up," He pointed out just as Bow popped her head out as the bag shot out.
"Yeah. But now we found it and now it's boring!," she whined back heading to the slide.
"Aren't that robot and Poppy the ones who've done most of the work?"
"WE HELPED!!"
"Then you should have no problem helping her with one last teensy tiny room." He glanced at Bow running back with a smile on her face. "By the looks of things you're practically done already."
Hattie groaned but followed Bow back up the slide towards the mail room, followed by Snatcher who fazed through the wall after them. "Anyone ever tell you, you work too hard for you're own good," he asked popping his head just above the slide exit.
Poppy chuckled wiping down the desk before looking over her shoulder at him. "Lots of times. But I aim to please, and I learnt a long time ago that hard work comes good rewards." She watched the two girls dragging the last two bags away and smiled. The mail room didn't have to be that clean to be honest. There was barely even any dirt on the ground. A quick sweep, bag the useless mail, wipe down these tables, and she even dumped those blocker rod things in the empty giant basket over there outta the way. "The place is mighty fine looking without paper smackin' your face. I didn't know aliens had a mail room...Well to be honest I didn't know they could have a painting room or anything else either."
Something about that sentence made Snatcher freeze for a moment and stare at her. " You...saw the paintings?"
"Well....No. But Hattie told me she already had the place swept so it's already taken care of ain't it?"
"Would you like to see it?," he asked a small feeling of excitement bubbling from his chest.
"I would  but I have the attic to fix don't I-" She jumped when Snatcher grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.
"That can wait! You're taking your once a day fifthteen minute break and coming with me. What's the point of living here if you don't see the entire complex?,'' he said with an almost cheery voice and looked down to the small girls pushing the last of the junk down the slide slowly. "Get good Kids! We have some real work to see!"
At one point, Hattie fed up with everything took a few steps back, before tackling the bags and Bow along with them. They all unstuck pretty quickly tumbling down into the control room with the kids landing all in one giant heap on the ground. Well ....That certainly did the trick didn't it? Snatcher seemed to be please as he tugged Poppy along and only stopped when she yanked her hand out of his grasp. He froze as she gave him a stern look for a couple seconds, before willingly going down the slide entrance herself. Oh if only he could punch himself for that. Poppy emerged a moment later in the control room and glanced up at Snatcher with narrowed eyes.
"I understand you're excited, but trying to yank me through a wall isn't an option. I would've bashed my head into that wall there!" Those yellow eyes glanced to the wall for a moment seeming to register what she was getting at. Oh. Right. Walls and humans don't really mix all too well huh? "Now don't you go doin' that again."
"Uh....Sure."
.....She gave a small smile again. "There. That wasn't too hard was it? Now whatcha going on about paintings for?"
"The painting room?" Hattie struggled out of the small pile her and Bow were in with protests from Bow but managed to squeeze out of there and up towards her dusting herself off and up to them. "I can show you! It's right by the engine room through the green do-"
"Whoa! Hey! That's MY thunder you're stealing kid!" A giant purple claw gently grabbed Hattie around the waist and pulled her back as the giant ghost leaned down to give her a look. "You have you're fun and now it's my shot. Don't be a rude little lady." Hattie gave a small pout and huff but didn't say anything else much to his delight as he put her down and patted the top of her hat before turning back to Poppy. "Well that seals that deal! Why don't we just go see those paintings?" he pointed towards the engine room door. "Trust me when I say this is the best part of the breaking experience."
"I reckon I don't have a say so to your looney persistance don't I?," she asked smiling at him but slowly followed behind none the less.
"NOPE!!"
A feeling of excitement welled up in him again as he smiled and shot through the wall faster than a bullet in one dark purple blur. Making her blink and shake her head. Well....She really ought to see the entirety of this ship then shouldn't she? One last room wasn't gonna hurt her. Leaving the girls to bicker over whatever little girls bickered over she followed right after the ghost through the tunnels. A moment later she saw himself sticking out of the walls of grinding gears above a green doorway and gestured for her to follow as he ducked back into the wall. And of course, she followed, side stepping Rumbi who was still sweeping around, wanting to see what he was so excited over. The hallway there was a little darker than the others but there was enough light for her to see that it also was littered with excellent gear designs but this time it was a very dark green. These aliens must be very rich to afford a weaver to make such excellent carpets. When the door opened on the other side oh boy she was in for another surprise.
"There you are!," Snatcher called from the ceiling below with a smile. That ghostly hair n fluff of his hanging down towards the floor as he grinned. "Took you long enough! Get in here and see what you've been missing!''
She did so and was thankful the room despite being small was big enough for her to stand in, it had red flooring and a green plain carpet running it's length. At one corner of the small room she saw yet another metal table thing with these 'relics' as Hattie had called them. This one was a UFO mobile and under it attached by strings were three cows that looked the same but were different. One wore glasses and a tin foil hat, one wore just green sunglasses, and the other one didn't wear anything and looked totally normal. But it wasn't that that caught the attention of the red head. PAINTINGS!! There were paintings of different sizes, lengths, and styles that she had never seen before. She gawked at the meer sight of them all looking at each wall slowly taking it all in. At the very back wall was the fist thing she saw when she crawled in and her eyes lazer pointed on the largest of the six paintings that were on it. Why..It was Hattie herself! She looked might sweet standing in a field holding her umbrella open, her yellow cap and hair blowing in the breeze. If she hadn't known better she thought the painting would've giggled at her funny expression. Next to that one was a city shrouded by night, the only lights coming from the windows on the tail buildings and the cresent moon painted under it. The one directly under it was a bit strange. It was the face of a gold tribal man on a grey background and he wore pure black glasses. How odd. The other three were realitively small compared to those three. One being a close up of a plant's green leaves, a baby crow leaning against a wall next to toy blocks, and a pretty forest landscape. She could see a few trees and mountains in the distance of it. Turning her head to the right, Poppy noticed the right wall had only five. The tiny rectangle one in the top corner of the right wall was a burly looking man riding on top of a ...giant slab of meat? Below that was a picture of Hattie's face. Well, four pictures of Hattie all looking alike but with different color pastels. The entire square painting was divided into four smaller squares and each one had a Hattie of a different color tone. How strange. Then there was a giant portrait of a man with a mustache and beard. He wore a red suit that looked quite expensive. And next to that was two others, one was a black background with nothing but red thorny vines painted on it, and the other was a bit more stranges. It was divided into three background colors (red, green, and yellow) and had a bubble with different items in each. One was a heart, another a giant green diamond, and what looked to be a small king's crown.
"What do you think of work?," Snatcher asked proudly crossing his arms and looking pleased with himself.
Poppy leaned to the right wall and gently laid her hand on the frame of the red suited man in wide eyed wonder....before turning to him. "YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him.
His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you."
Poppy looked behind her and took a few steps back from the doorway she had crawled in from to look at the six painting hanging above the doorway. Two were big. One was of two burly men who looked exactly alike and they looked to be farming folk like her parents were, the other one was of the famous Snatcher himself, with some king of background she didn't recognize. Maybe a bridge? He was in the middle holding his face in what looked like a very shocked expression. The others weren't grand scale but interesting anyways. Three of them were again Hattie but one looked more like a sketch that had her with double arms and legs. How bizarre. The one of Hattie next to it was her from her shoulders up but wearing a strange mask. It was green and red with black polka dots. The one of Hattie above those two was a much more normal one. It was of Hattie sitting down with her hands in her lap and behind her was a BEAUTIFUL background of mountains, a wide lake, and forest. The last one in the corner was another strange one. It was the man in the red suit again sitting on a throne, and a whole bunch of the burly men who looked a like bowing to him as if he was a king.
"These are...A-AMAZING!!"
She looked over to the last wall which had the biggest paintings on it. The strangest one was also the biggest. What looked like some desert landscape with a single dead tree and melting hour glasses all over it. Above that was another one of you guessed it, Hattie. In outerspace wearing an astronaut suit and connected to her spaceship. She looked so cartoony and adorable! A red boat sailing alone on a stormy sea, she could almost smell the sea air. One of the smaller large ones was just a beige background and just Hattie umbrella painted on it. And the the very last one was an abstract orange portrait of some man wearing sunglasses and a flower shirt. Snatcher however was looking VERY pleased at all the praise he was getting stroking his already huge ego as the smiling red read looked back to him with a wide smile.
"I can't believe you painted all of these!"
"Well you better, Red. Because I'm taking full credit for what you see." He 'polished' his claws against his neck fluff and examined them. "I don't usually do it, but sometimes if I'm bored and don't have a new supply of books to read I'll start on one and work on it a bit at a time. One of my lesser known talents." He then pointed at the room around him. "Couldn't really have these in the forest. Too many ways they could be damaged, so here was more ideal."
"I can see why." She turned her gaze around the room again before giggling and giving him an almost smug look. "Ya'll must really adore that little girl. There's six paintins' with her sweet lil face on 'em. But strangely I see none with the other one."
He paused for a moment looking at her...before coughing and looking away embarrased. "Well. Yes. I'm proud of them. In a way.....But we learnt the hard way the kiddo was allergic to paint and she wasn't too fond of the idea of her being painted."
Poppy guessed he was referring to Bow and hummed. "Poor thing. I can understand how that feels. But still." Her smile became all the more loving to him. "You have acceptional talent for this king of stuff. I reckon now I can say I was abducted by aliens and saw paintings by ghost. Hehe!"
He felt a warm feeling bubble up at the giggle but he cleared his throat and looked away again crossing his arms. "A-Alright! W-Well I think your legal fifthteen minute break is over, Red. Didn't you have something else to do today?"
"OH RIGHT!! The attic. I wonder if that girl has a hammer and nails?"
"Pretty sure she does since she literally has everything around her-......" He stopped midway through his rant and stared at her. Or more acturrately the bottom of her dress with all the rips and hole in it and pointed it out to her. "What the peck happened to you?"
She blinked and looked down to where he was pointing. "Oh. This? I think I got it all ripped up crashlandin' through those trees."
"You look like a homeless maid wearing that." He grunt and rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to fix that too."
Her red brow rose in surprise. "You sew too?"
"Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." His hand proudly pointed to himself. "I happen to be a powerful being with unlimited hidden talents." ..........Poppy's face suddenly turned into one of amuzement and she snorted again hand shooting to her mouth while the other went to her gut to try and hide the laughter. Which Snatcher flabbergasterdly got angry at. "WHAT'S WITH THAT LAUGHING!? WHAT?! YOU DON'T THINK MEN CAN SEW!? THAT'S LOW COMING FROM YOU!!" She snorted again sounding like a pig doubling over a bit and smiling wider behind her hand making Snatcher give a small growl. "HEY!! DON'T LAUGH AT ME YOU DOTTED FACE!! IM THE SNATCHER!! KING OF SUBCON AND TAKER OF SOULS!!"
She snorted again and in a strained voice said. "Oh yes. *Wheeze* T-The great and horrible monster ghost. Daddy of aliens, Painter of...HMHM! HAHA!! D-Daughters. And tailor of dresses."
Snatcher let out the biggest flustered peacock sqawk she'd ever heard and she lost it. Doubling over onto her knees, both hands gripping her sides as she leaned over and laughed hard, snorting a few times. Snatcher's cheeks lit up with a bright yellow flush and his fluff floofed out of embarrassment as he just kinda sputtered and stared at the laughing woman on the floor at a loss for words. Eventually forcing something out.
"OH YEAH!! W-WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A POOR MAID!! JUST-.....GO CHANGE OUTTA THAT RUINED DRESS BY THE TIME I LEAVE IF YOU WANT IT FIXED!! A-AND GO FIX THAT STUPID ATTIC AS PUNISHMENT!!"
He dissappeared back up into the ceiling leaving the wheezing and laughing woman hugging her sides through her laughing fit. Coughing when she couldn't get enough air. Oh boy. Was he gonna be sour for a while.
5 notes · View notes
radramblog · 3 years ago
Text
Radiohead Retrospective Part 6: I try to sing along but I get it all wrong (‘CAUSE I’M NOT)
I don’t have as much to say about the lead-in to Hail to the Thief, much like I didn’t have much to say about that for Amnesiac. There isn’t as earth-shattering a shift as Kid A, and there isn’t a big story like with The Bends or OK Computer.
Tumblr media
Hail to the Thief was (probably) the first batch of music Radiohead recorded after the sessions that produced Kid A/Amnesiac, meaning they had the full breadth of that experience to work with. What we received as a result was somewhat of a fusion of the electronic/jazz-influences of those albums and the rockier stuff of the band’s past.
Now I’ve heard a fair few complaints that this album is too long. That’s probably fair, it’s their longest album, with a total of 14 tracks, meaning it does kinda drag on a bit. Thom Yorke apparently agrees, seeing as he put out an alternative tracklist in ’08 (link) missing four songs. At the same time, I’m going to pull Death of the Author on this one, because as much as I’ve seen people complain that there’s too many songs on this, nobody ever seems to get along with which ones they’d cut- let alone people wanting to pull B-sides in the mix.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? Suppose I should just talk about the fucking album.
We begin this record, like all Radiohead records, with studio chatter. Wait, what the fuck? Yeah, it’s quiet but it’s there. Why not, right?
2+2=5 is a lovely little banger to open on. Unquestionably a rock song, it features a very slow and quiet (and heavily panned) first half before just fucking exploding in the latter half. It genuinely might be the most aggressive track the band has put out, a manic cascade of energy and breathy falsetto that’s genuinely headbangable. It’s also a fun thing to try and read the lyrics for, since the booklet the album comes with gives up for this bit and just goes “eezeepeezee NOT” or something along that line.
Oh yeah, that’s actually something worth bringing up. Neither Kid A nor Amnesiac had lyric booklets, deliberately obscuring the actual words to the songs, to the point where people had pretty wide interpretations of what they actually were. Considering the incompleteness of 2+2=5’s entry in it’s booklet, perhaps similar occurred with that. I’m still unsure if the subtitle of this post is actually the real lyrics.
Most people, I think, read the name of this track and just kind of assume it’s about 1984, the book boomers bring up whenever their freedumbs are impinged upon. And it’s not not about 1984, but there are extremely specific political references as well- Hail to the Thief, title of the album and line in the track, is a quote regarding the U.S. President of the time, George W Bush, who lost the popular vote but won the electoral college- something that sounds awfully familiar to those of us living in 2021. “January has April Showers” similarly refers to the unseasonable weather of Bush’s inauguration.
The last thing I’d like to bring up before we finally move onto the second track is that every single song in this album has a subtitle- for 2+2=5, it’s (The Lukewarm). According to Yorke, it’s a reference to Dante’s Inferno- the Lukewarm being the people around the edge of hell, damned due to their passive indifference- the kind of people the song’s lyric, “you have not been paying attention”, is referring to. I’m literally learning these meanings now, so we’ll see how many are worth bringing up.
youtube
Perhaps fortunately for my word count, Sit Down. Stand Up (yes the full stop/period is part of the title) (that’s not the subtitle) doesn’t have quite as much going on. Though it does have a video, for some reason. It’s a sort of repetitive trance of lyrics set to an electronic percussion, distant piano, and….I don’t know what other instrument is making those light dings. A xylophone? Interestingly, much like 2+2=5, it’s one that builds slowly into a chaotic finish, the raving of that track reflected in the almost cold mania of the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops the raindrops……. It’s a decent enough song, but I legitimately cannot imagine listening to it ever outside the context of this album. Which is weird, because I definitely remember doing so when I was younger.
Track 3 is Sail To The Moon, a lullaby or ballad or sorts, a calm after the storm that is the previous track. Quite literally, considering it’s repeated lyric. And also literally, in that it was actually written for Thom’s son at the time. The subtitle, (Brush the Cobwebs Out of the Sky) evokes a very literal interpretation of the song’s title, which doesn’t actually reflect the lyrics.
Sail To The Moon is, as any good lullaby should be, utterly soothing. It’s calm, with Thom’s vocals just drifting across the piano, loose guitar, and percussion like a low tide. This is one of those songs I’ve come around to much more with time, because I distinctly remember skipping this a lot. You’ll find I’ve listened to this album a fair few times, though the section between 2+2=5 and Go To Sleep is one I skipped a fair bit, I think.
Backdrifts is a heavily electronic song that apparently in part predates Kid A and Amnesiac, which is kind of interesting- we’ll see a bit more of that later. As a track, it’s kind of spacy- the synth instrumental feels like something out of an eerie sci-fi film, if you notched the tempo up a bit.
Backdrifts is also the first song where I can see the “too long” argument come in. Not for the album (though I believe it’s one of the ones the alternate tracklist leaves out), but the song itself- I’m not sure this is a song that needs to be the second longest on the album (and only by a second). It’s fine, but considering what it comes off and what follows it, it’s in a bit of an awkward spot.
youtube
Go To Sleep is another one that kinda took me a while to get. I always heard it as being one of the top tracks on the thing, but it never really clicked with me for a while. I suppose I’ve never been massive on purely acoustic-guitar-led affairs? With age, though, I’ve better appreciated the depth the song has. Possibly the folkiest song the band has, it might have taken me getting into R.E.M. to recognize what the song is.
And the song is good!
But unfortunately for Go To Sleep, Where I End and You Begin is my favourite Radiohead track.
Holy shit, this song sounds so fucking sick. That percussion, that bassline, those fucking Ondes Martenot babyyyy. The song is spacey and ethereal, but tied down by the more traditional elements of the instrumentation. The fantastical lyricism tying into very real themes of personal boundaries, how they define how people interact, and how when they fail, things tend to go badly- “There’ll be no more lies, I will eat you alive”. It’s just an absolute fucking track.
I don’t think I can possibly explain why I like this song so much. Opinions and favourites are kind of like that. But it just speaks to me. The hyper-fuzzed out guitar soloing in the bridge, the loneliness of the second verse, it’s just incredible.
Also it possibly references Optimistic with the lyrics which is cool! I also like that song a lot.
The subtitle, (The Sky Is Falling In), is something I’ve not been able to find a reference for regarding it’s meaning, but since I like the song so much, I’m going to do some interpreting. If we assume the song is about boundaries in a relationship, it’s clear that the final lyrics are the utter devastation after those boundaries are breached. But “The Sky Is Falling In” fits better with the third verse, what with the house falling into the sea- the tipping point has broken, the household (or, the house) is in freefall, the sky is falling with it. But that’s just my opinion, man.
Still with me? We’re not even halfway.
We Suck Young Blood can best be described as off-kilter, perhaps even deliberately out of tempo. A very pointed use of handclaps, typically a part of substantially more energetic tracks than the dirge this song presents. I’m sure this isn’t what the song is about, but at face value the lyrics read like some sort of social service run by vampires- give us your young blood, and we’ll make things better for you. In a way, it’s kind of fun, silly even. I suppose the claps help with that. The track is otherwise just, melancholic- slow, piano-y, even the sudden pickup barely lasts- though I always forget it’s there, making it kind of a surprise every time. Like, oh shit, we’re going somewhere for a bit, I need to put my seatbelt back on- ah never mind it’s over (and then the song keeps going for a while).
We come now to The Gloaming, the song that was originally going to be the title track for the album. They changed it, apparently, because it got rejected- too gloomy, apparently. According to Wikipedia, a fair few of the subtitles from the album’s tracks also came from proposed names for the album proper.
The song itself is also pretty gloomy, as it happens. Apparently, it’s literally about the rise of fascism, so fair enough. An electronic track, with many a repetition, feeling uneasy and cold the whole way through (making the subtitle, Softly Open our Mouths in the Cold, pretty apt). It feels almost minimalistic at times, without especially many lines running through it- and without a big crescendo like many to most of these songs have, it feels somewhat lifeless- a deliberate choice, no doubt.
youtube
Oh shit, are we up to There There? We are! God this song fucks. Those opening drums are iconic, not to mention the way it layers onto itself. And the video! Eerie horror at its finest.
Like, I know Where I End and You Begin is my favourite song on this album unquestionably. But there is no doubt in my mind that There There is the best song on the album.
Good enough that I don’t have anything really interesting to say about it? Like many songs on this album, it’s got a big old crescendo, but the build is just so smooth, and the climax is just such a swelling. “We are accidents waiting to happen” is such a powerful lyric, and it’s hardly the only one on the song. A comment I’ve seen about the song describes the guitar as akin to laughter, a mood I can definitely see in the track itself.
Anyway the song ended so I guess I gotta move on.
I Will is kind of an interesting case. It’s unquestionably one of the most emotional songs on the album, considering it was written about a U.S. bombing of a shelter that wiped out 408 innocent people, and that’s fucking horrifying (S.O.P. for the Army it seems). It’s short, and…well it’s not sweet, but it is tragic and haunting.
It’s also a song that went through variation on variation before finally appearing on this album. Early live performances date to 5 whole years before Hail to the Thief, and considering the bombing was in 1991, it was probably written well before then. Versions of this track are kind of everywhere as a result- one early version was eventually chopped up and reproduced into Like Spinning Plates on Amnesiac- reconstructions of the process are available on citizeninsane.eu- or they were, at least, because apparently that site’s embeds relied on Flash.
I do particularly want to highlight the Los Angeles version of the song, which was a b-side on 2+2=5 (and also was on the Com Lag EP), because it’s a fuller version of the track- not necessarily better, but the full band is involved, making it a much different experience.
Track 11, A Punchup At A Wedding, has become somewhat of a meme on the Radiohead subreddit. Mostly it’s a result of the opening lyric, literally “No” 42 times over. The subtitle, for reference, is also all “No”s. On a similarly lighter note, the track is apparently a result of the band stumbling upon just a needlessly scathing review of one of their live shows, making it one of the few Radiohead tracks I could confidently say is about one person in particular. With all the second person, the lyrics probably wouldn’t be out of place on an early Linkin Park track (whether that’s an insult or not, I’ll leave as an exercise to the reader).
The slow, almost marchlike rhythm of the song well suits the tone of the lyrics, and to be clear, the tone is pretty much “Man, what the fuck is wrong with you?” and the emotions that come with being torn down by someone who doesn’t know you or really recognise what they’re doing. I suppose it’s refreshing for the metaphor to be this obvious for once. It’s a pretty decent song, piano-driven like many a song on the album, which means theoretically if I ever relearn the instrument I could play it. Maybe.
Myxomatosis, while a pretty fucked up disease, is an absolutely excellent song. If 2+2=5 is the heaviest rock song on the album, Myxomatosis is the heaviest electronic song on it. The lyricism is incredibly dark, unsettling and violent, suiting the harsh buzzing synth line. They say fuck in this one! And the way the entire song save percussion drops for the key line (I don’t know why I feel so tongue-tied/skinned alive) is so excellent. Interestingly, said line also appears word-for-word in Cuttooth, a B-side from Amnesiac, though the mood is profoundly different.
I suspect the song being named Myxomatosis and being pretty clearly about public perception and fame should give you a hint as to how the band views the media and the world of the rich and famous- the subtitle, (Judge, Jury, & Executioner), certainly adds to that. Thom sounds a mix of hesitant, confused, disgusted, and frustrated on the track, and it works incredibly well.
We’re finally on to the penultimate track, Scatterbrain. And I��m going to be honest, I don’t know what this one’s about. I’m out of patience to figure out what Genius is going on about, though it’s fairly incomplete for this track anyway. It’s relatively simple, for a Radiohead track, and pretty enough, but I can see why people don’t tend to like this one as much. I distinctly remember it being bottom of the list or close to it on a subreddit poll at some point (might have been above We Suck Young Blood, which I don’t agree with).
Scatterbrain kind of just has the problem of being a pretty decent album track, right between two of my favourite songs on the album. Which is awkward as always.
Our final song is A Wolf at the Door, and talk about a closer. Thom has described it as like waking up from a nightmare and finding out reality is worse, which is both relatable and upsetting. The song is grim, with confusing imagery in the verses leading to a desperately emotional chorus about someone’s children being fucking ransomed. Also, a bridge with more Nos than A Punchup at a Wedding, where are your No (x105) memes Reddit, get it fucking together!
The lyrics of the verses in A Wolf at the Door have a swaying flow to them that’s almost rap-like, especially since the falsetto that Thom usually sings in around this time is completely absent from them. This makes it one of the few rap-ish songs I’ve actually tried to perform, and I’d probably be pretty okay if I didn’t keep forgetting bits.
The song is just, frustration (verse 1), desperation (chorus), anger/frustration (verse 2), and back to desperation (chorus) again, which doesn’t quite fit the stages of grief cleanly, but that’s probably fine. The final vocalisation of the song (and thereby the album) feels almost like a sorrowful howl, which makes less sense the more I think about the imagery and intent of the lyrics, so maybe just ignore that actually. There is just so much imagery packed into this track, especially in the second verse, that listing it out is pointless- but it all just clicks so well, into this deluge of frustration and madness carried along by that instrumental that just seems to get lower and lower forever.
Anyway that’s the whole album, isn’t it? I’m going to keep this outro brief, because we’re approaching 3000 words at this point, but I think that fact says it all. There’s a lot of Hail to the Thief, but it never really misses per se. It has less great songs, but no bad ones. I’d argue my own biases probably cloud my judgement, but even if some of the tracks are more forgettable, the highs are so high for me that it easily stands among the band’s best.
Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with me. But that’s fine, this is my opinion, the rest of the world is allowed to be wrong.
A lot of things would happen between Hail to the Thief’s release in 2003 and the followup, In Rainbows, in 2007. But that’s ultimately a story for another day. A week from today, to be precise.
See you then?
3 notes · View notes
detroitbydark · 5 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Crossed Connections
Tech x Togruta!Reader
No warnings yet
Summary: Tech discovers that the net is a very small place and that he doesn’t know everything.
A/N: So this is based off the assumption that a galaxy far far away has their own form of internet dating. It’s crack. id love to write for these two in the future but It’ll likely just be scenes and things I find fun as me and fully functioning works of fiction just don’t mesh well.
This should be the calm before the storm, the time of preparation and meditation before the next mission. For most of the Bad Batch it is.  
Crosshair, feet propped on the ships console dismantles and reassembles his sidearm before moving on the more formidable sniper rifle.Tech sighs loudly as his fingers dance over the datapad in his hand. He’s been doing it since they jumped to light speed. Usually he’d be rattling off a steady stream of facts on the planet they were heading to, its inhabitants, dangers, precautions needing to be taken. Now he was silent and that was not the clones default.
“Alright, I’ll bite '' Crosshair grumbles from the co-pilots seat. Tech looks up, shrugs and then sets the pad down, relieved his brother had finally taken the bait. The sniper continues to slowly work the oiled rag over his rifle.
“It’s nothing…”
“You're a fragging awful liar” 
Crosshair didn’t care. Really. But...of all his vods he was least annoyed by the team's resident engineer/translator/tech genius. So, here he was, digging at the other clone in an attempt to get him to talk.
“It’s her-“
“Wait” Crosshair sets the rag and rifle down on his lap. His eyes narrow. “You mean to tell me you're still messing with that GalaxyMance stuff?”
Tech runs a hand over his closely cropped hair rubs roughly as the partial hawk. “Yeah, maybe… yeah.” He admits, avoiding the snipers focused stare.
“And you’re still hung up on that anonymous nerfherder.”
“She’s not a...” Tech defends trailing off as he narrows his eyes. Rutababy was not a nerfherder. 
He was sure of it. 
Yeah, pretty sure. 
Mostly sure.
 He was trying to play it cool, choosing not to do the digging he was more than capable of. He’d matched with Rutababy a few days after he’d set up the (very much against regulation) GalaxyMance account for fun. He’d just wanted to see if he could do it. If he could stay ahead of the brains at the GAR. 
It was boredom, really. He wanted to play with routing his activity and bouncing his signals through different channels. It was just supposed to be a bit of a challenge. 
And then he’d gotten a match. 
He didn’t even have a profile picture up, for kriffs sake, just a picture of a scrawny Loth Cat he’d pulled from the Holonet. Apparently she liked Loth Cats.
 They’d been sending messages back and forth since, he’d even talked to her over comms once. Her voice had been soft and smokey. She’d apologized and said it was often like that after work, that she talked so much at her job that she often found herself borderline hoarse afterwards. 
She’d been a good listener. When he rattled on and on she seemed to even like it, asking questions that only fueled his descent into random, obscure subjects more.
 Of course, some things they didn’t talk about. She didn’t know he was a member of the GAR and she sure didn’t know he was a clone. She didn’t press him for more than he’d give and he respected that about her and didn't press her for more either. 
Tech huffs. 
She was definitely not a nerfherder.
 He picks his datapad back up and refreshes the screen. Still nothing from her. This was the longest he’d gone without hearing from her since they’d matched weeks ago. He wondered if she was-
Crosshair barks out a laugh that startles the younger clone from his thoughts.
 “Yeah, Tech-vod, I’m sure she’s not”  the sniper quips out the entirely unoriginal profile name his vod had chosen. Tech seems to relax and Crosshair smirks as he goes in for the kill, “she’s probably Trandoshan. You like lizards right?”
Hunter steps onto the bridge and it’s only because of his heightened senses that he barely misses the screwdriver flying toward his head as he steps between his men. It’s snatched out of the air, his face slowly turning toward Crosshair. The sniper gives him a lazy grin. 
“Good timing Sarge”
Hunter’s eyes trail back to Tech. He looks flustered. His skin was paler than most clones, including the rest of the Bad Batch, and it only accentuated his reddened cheeks more. It was an uncommon sight for, arguably, the most level headed of the small unit. An eyebrow arches above heavy tattoos.
“I’m fine Sarge.” Tech tries to explain.
“His girly friend is ghosting him”
“SHE'S NOT-“
“Enough!” Hunter's voice is sharp. “You’re excused” he growls over his shoulder toward the sniper.
Tech can hear Crosshair grumbling as he gathers his rifle and supplies.
“...ruining all my fun”
Hunter waits til the soft whoosh of the bridge door before he says anything.
“You know nothing good can come of that” he points to the datapad. The usual growl of his voice tempered. “We’re different Tech, but we’re still clones and clones don’t get happy endings”
Tech’s jaw tenses as he nods, “there’s nothing wrong with pretending, Sarge”
Hunter nods, “is that what you're doing? Pretending to be excited when you get the new notifications? Pretending to walk on air after you talked to her? Was it pretending when you let Cross gaude you into chucking a wrench at him?”
“It was a screwdriver” Tech corrects, petulant with arms crossed tightly over his armor.
“Yeah, ok, you know best, don’t you? Smartest of all of us. Incapable of making a bad decision.”
Tech feels something akin the shame twist in his belly. Hunter was just trying to look out for him. He wasn’t poking like Crosshair, he wasn’t out right laughing like Wrecker had done.
“I hear what you’re saying.”
Hunter looks less than impressed, “Yeah? We’ll see”
------
You're running late.
Again.
You hurriedly button your shirt as you skitter around the corner, your badge swiping you through locked doors as you go. The laces of your left boot flop against the duracrete.
It was the third time this week and your CO was going to have your head. You push through the medbay door just in time to see your CMO, Slash, a serious looking clone with a permanent twist to his mouth, begin the morning meeting. Your jaw slams shut, incisors clicking together as you find a chair at the back of the assembled group. You ignore the looks that get flicked your way.
“So, we’ve got some new assignments coming our way.” He begins, his gaze traces over you and you cringe when he raises a brow in your direction. You mouth ‘sorry’ and hear the scoffs and smothered giggles of a few of the other civvie medics. Slash doesn’t waste another look your way and you feel insanely lucky that he must be feeling lenient this morning. You couldn’t handle another dressing down like you had received a few days ago.
 You were a good medic. A damn good one but, by the force, the rest of your life was a mess. You’d always felt that leaving Kiros was the right choice but the loneliness you felt had only become more acute during your time in Coruscant. Where you’d once stood out too much amongst your tribe, you seemed to not stand out enough amongst the swell of people and species. Togruta were not wild about individualism and you stood out just enough to be off putting. 
On Coruscant, your pale pink skin and montrails did very little to make you stand out in the hustle and bustle of daily life at all. It was hard for you to make friends, hard for you to connect. It was the same problems from Kiros all over again. It was you, not them.
It’s why you’d bit the blaster and signed up for GalaxyMance. It felt silly and ridiculous, but you were desperate to feel a connection to somebody, anybody. You’d been on a few dates too but nothing ever panned out. Some of them had loved your “exotic look” while others had taken one look and decided they’d pass. No one tried to get to know you. 
Until Tech-vod.
You’d clicked on his profile after an awful day in the bay because of the silly Loth kitten he’d chosen as an avatar. Without much thought you read through his profile and sent off a cursory introduction and then thought nothing of it until he’d sent you a message back a few days later. It was funny, less of an introduction than a vomiting if facts on the Loth cats. It was cute. You’d never seen him but you were sure he was too. Pretty sure…
“Y/N”
You startle as CMO Slash barks your name.
“Sir?” You greet. Someone to your left snickers. Slash pinches the bridge of his nose.
“You’ve missed everything I’ve said, haven’t you?”
You don’t respond. You both know the answer and there’s no use lying. Your hand strays to one of the lekku hanging over your shoulder, fingers toys with it the way you’d done since you were a child, a tell to your parents about the state of your nerves. 
“You’re being reassigned off world” 
His words catch you by surprise. Your jaw gaps but nothing comes out. Sure you’d been late a few times and, yeah, maybe you hadn’t clicked with your team so well, but reassignment?
“Sir, I-“
He holds his hand up, “it’s not for discussion. This comes from higher than the likes of me. Transport leaves at 1600.”
You swallow hard, “where too?”
“Fort Anaxes.”
127 notes · View notes
chemicalcindercat · 4 years ago
Link
After Marinette finds out she’s pregnant, her and Adrien’s lives change. The problem is, Adrien still hasn’t proposed to her yet. With his reputation as a model on the line, and Marinette struggling with the idea of having to potentially give up being Ladybug, the young adults have a lot of challenges ahead of them.
Tumblr media
Chapter Summary: Dinner at the Dupain-Cheng bakery is fun, especially when Marinette and Adrien have an extremely important announcement to make.
Chapters (2/15): 1 | 2
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: T (For violence and hints of adult themes)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug, (Some side ships of minor characters, but mostly just Adrinette)
Additional Tags: Pregnant Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unplanned doesn’t mean unwanted, Baby on the way, Tikki can’t decide if she feels like an aunt or a grandma, All Plagg cares about is cheese, Protective Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir, Adrien is gonna be a daddy, Post-reveal, Marinette Dupain-Chenge needs a hug, Expecting, Bun in the oven, hahaha, GET IT, Because Mari’s a baker, eheheh what am I even doing with my life, a pun in the oven, aPitO
Marinette wasn’t sure how she expected Adrien to react to the news that she was pregnant, but she definitely wasn’t expecting him to start crying. Her beloved partner in crime hugged her close to himself, and for a moment Marinete had a fleeting feeling of fear at the thought of Adrien not wanting the baby. And then he picked her up (fairly easily, with how small she was compared to him) and spun her around, laughing.
“Mari...Oh, Princess, this is wonderful!” Adrien put her down after a moment, and Marinette couldn’t help but smile, relieved at the realization that they were tears of joy , not sadness or anger. Adrien wasn’t upset that she was pregnant, he was excited!
“How long have you known?” He asked, after hugging her and laughing for a while.
“Not long. I didn’t know for sure until a few minutes ago.” Marinette explained. “I threw up earlier while making the cookies, and then thought about how my period skipped last month, so I decided to go get a pregnancy test.”
“You should’ve texted me! I would’ve come home immediately, you’re far more important than some silly photoshoot.” Adrien said, with a big grin on his face.
“Well… I didn’t want you to panic… So I decided not to tell you about it until I knew for sure.” Marinette looked away, all of her feelings of uncertainty coming back. Adrien noticed, and the smile on his face faltered.
“Mari… Why were you crying when you came out of the bathroom?” He asked softly, putting a hand on her cheek affectionately.
“Well…” Marinette sighed. How could she even begin to explain all of the emotions swirling around inside of her? It was like she was feeling every single emotion inside her all at once. She glanced over into the kitchen, where Tikki was quietly talking to Plagg. “I just…” Marinette looked down at her hands, receiving a reassuring squeeze from Adrien’s, before looking back up at him. “I’m just… Really, really surprised, that’s all. It’s… It’s extremely unexpected, you know? I mean, we were so careful… But one slip up was all it took…” Her shoulders started shaking a little.
Adrien smiled softly. “I don’t feel like it was a slip up at all. True, we didn’t necessarily plan this… But it’s happening, and it’s an amazing thing, Mari.”
Marinette started to smile more at that. “You’re right. I didn’t think of it like that, I guess.” The bluenette relaxed a little, a true smile on her face. “So… What now? We were supposed to go to my parents house for dinner tonight, should we still go? I can’t wait to tell them, but do we need to go to a doctor first?” She tensed again, starting to panic slightly. “W-what if something happens, what if I-I’m not really-”
Adrien interrupted her by pressing a finger to her lips. “Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh, calm down, Princess. It’s alright.” He soothed her. “About that, I have to go back and meet up with my dad tomorrow to discuss the photoshoot.” He sighed, glancing at the Kwami’s that seemed to have finished their conversation in the kitchen. Marinette followed his gaze, and couldn’t help but notice how concerned Tikki looked.
“So, why don’t we go over to your parent’s house tonight, and share the news with them? Tomorrow, I’ll schedule an appointment for you, and then afterwards I’ll go meet up with my dad. Does that sound good?”
Marinette thought for a second. She didn’t want something bad to happen to the baby. If she got her parent’s hopes up just to find out something bad happened, it would be awful. However, she really needed her parents right now. In the two and a half years it had been since her and Adrien finished high school, they had spent a lot of time with her parents. Marinette hadn’t moved out of her parent’s house for a while at first, busy pursuing her dreams of becoming a fashion designer (at least, as far as her parents were concerned; they didn’t need to know most of her time was spent saving Paris from Akuma attacks). Adrien, on the other hand, moved out of his dad’s house as soon as he was old enough to. Their relationship was extremely strained, and finding out about Gabriel’s secret hobby of using innocent people to try and steal their Miraculous certainly didn’t help things. Marinette and Adrien had moved in together shortly after finding out each other’s identities (and of course dating), a few months after the end of school.
“...Mari?” Adrien repeated gently.
Marinette smiled softly and nodded. “Yeah, I like that plan. I like it a lot.” She glanced back into the kitchen. “Until then, wanna help me with the cookies? I kinda forgot about them.” She explained, walking into the kitchen and picking up the bowl. Adrien started to follow, until he heard her sigh. She turned around, giving him a stern, yet playful look and shaking her head.
“Honestly, Chaton, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting into my cookie dough?” She scolded. “You ate half the bowl!”
Adrien tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t hold it in anymore when she started waving a whisk around at him as she lectured him. He burst into chuckles, blushing slightly at how adorable his lady was.
Marinette tried to keep her stern face, but couldn’t help but start giggling herself.
“Hey, don’t laugh when I’m scolding you!”
Tom had just finished decorating a batch of cupcakes when Marinette walked in.
“Papa?” The young woman asked, poking her head into the door.
Tom grinned, and set down the last cupcake. “Marinette! You’re here early,” he said, taking off his apron and coming over to hug her. “That’s my daughter, I’m proud of you, showing up early to places!”
Marinette laughed, and hugged her dad back. “Hey, dad. I missed you too.”
“Oh, Marinette? You’re early!” exclaimed a voice from behind Tom. Marinette peeked around him to see Sabine standing there, a big mixing bowl in her arms. She pulled away from her dad to run over and throw her arms around Sabine.
“Maman!”
Sabine laughed. “Have you missed me? You know you and Adrien are welcome anytime!”
Tom’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned around quickly to see Adrien standing in the doorway. “Oh! Adrien! I’m sorry, I was distracted by Marinette. Come on in!”
Adrien listened, stepping further into the little bakery and shutting the door behind him. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it. It’s nice to see you guys.” He greeted Tom with the common kiss on both cheeks, and then turned to Marinette.
Marinette let go of her mom, and looked around, taking in a deep breath. “Ah, the bakery smell. I always miss this.”
Tom moved to wrap an arm around his wife, and they exchanged happy expressions. They were proud of their daughter, who was not only in a pretty serious relationship with the boy she had been in love with for a couple years, but also doing fairly successful in building her own career for herself. Yet as happy as they were for her, they couldn’t help but miss her. Tom understood his daughter was busy now that she had her own adult life to take care of, but he wished she would come over and visit a little more often.
“Well, proud as we are that you made it early, dinner won’t be ready for another twenty minutes at least.” Sabine explained, smiling as she noticed Marinette grab the hand of Adrien, who was standing next to her awkwardly. “It’s Flamiche, so it’s just gotta sit in the oven for a while longer.”
Marinette gasped. “Oh, actually, that’s perfect! We uh... Adrien and I have something we need to talk to you guys about.” She took in a deep breath and looked around. “Do you guys wanna go up to the living room? You might wanna be sitting down for this…”
Sabine looked up, confused, at Tom, who looked just as confused. “Alright…” Sabine said, nodding at Marinette and shrugging. “Sure, if you think that’s best.”
A couple minutes of excited-nervousness and confusion later, and all four adults were sitting on the couch upstairs. Adrien squeezed Marinette’s hand reassuringly. “Do you want to start?”
The young woman nodded nervously. “Of course. They are my parents, after all.” Marinette turned to face her parents, who were looking even more confused than before. She took a deep breath. “Maman… Papa… I… I’m pregnant.”
There was a moment of silence as both of Marinette’s parents processed what she just said.
Tom was the first to react.
“You’re pregnant?!” He exclaimed, jumping to his feet. Marinette jumped in her seat, not expecting the sudden movement. “I can’t believe this! This… This is… great! I’m going to be a Grand-père! A Pépère!” Tom tugged Marinette up off of the couch, pulling her into a bear hug. “I can’t believe it!” He repeated, laughing.
Marinette smiled softly, waiting for him to put her down.
“Have you gone to the doctor yet?” Sabine asked, as Tom put Marinette down and repeated the action with Adrien. “Do you have any details? How far along, gender, that sort of thing?” She glanced at her husband and laughed a little. “Tom, I know you’re excited, but you should let the young man breathe.” Tom listened to his wife, smiling nervously and apologizing to Adrien, who looked downright honored to have been bear-hugged by his girlfriend’s father.
“Well,” Marinette started to explain. “We just found out this morning. It started when I got really nauseous and threw up because of milk.”
“Hahaha, my daughter, upset by milk? Not a chance!” Boasted Tom, having finally sat back down.
Marinette smiled, and then continued. “Then, once I thought of the possibility, and did some math, I realized I was overdue for a certain something, so I went to the store and picked up a test. Sure enough, two lines. We didn’t want to bail on dinner, so we’re waiting to make an appointment for tomorrow. Besides, I wanted you two to be the first to know, anyways.”
“Oh, Marinette, this is great! I’m so happy for you!” Sabine said, opening her arms wide in a gesture for a hug. Marinette happily complied, relaxing in her mother’s arms. “And we are so, so happy you came to us first.”
“This is perfect!” Exclaimed Tom, grinning. “I’ve been wanting to bake cookies lately, but I haven't been able to come up with any new themes lately. I’m going to bake baby cookies!”
Marinette pulled away from her mom and looked at her dad, laughing. “That sounds like a great idea, Papa! You could do little bottles, or rattles!”
“That’s a great idea! My daughter comes up with the best ideas!”
“What about rubber duckies?” Marinette suggested.
“Yes!” Tom smiled even brighter. “And until you find out the gender, I have plenty of neutral colors of icing we could use! Come on!” He put an arm around and led Marinette upstairs, still rambling about babies. “My grandchild will be the best baker in the world!”
Sabine watched them go upstairs, laughing and shaking her head, before she turned to Adrien. “We should probably follow them up there; dinner should be done at any moment anyways.”
Adrien nodded. “Yeah…” He rubbed his arm nervously. “Uh… Mrs. Cheng?” He asked, glancing over at her.
Sabine smiled softly and sat down next to him. “Adrien, you know you can call me Sabine…” She reassured him. “What’s troubling you? I know this all must be very overwhelming. I love my husband very much, but not everyone has his unwavered enthusiasm.”
Adrien nodded again. “Yeah… But don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m not excited! I’m so happy about this! I just…” He trailed off, trying to think of the best way to word it. “Are you… upset?”
Sabine furrowed her brows. “Why would I be upset?”
“Well…” Adrien sighed. “We didn’t wait until marriage to… We’re not married. Does that upset you at all?”
Ah, so that’s what was troubling him. Sabine’s expression softened. While she would’ve preferred her daughter to be a little more responsible and wait until marriage, Sabine trusted Marinette. Sabine looked away for a moment, trying to decide how to approach this. Finally, she turned back to Adrien.
“Do you plan on proposing to Marinette?”
“Of course!” Adrien exclaimed, his face lighting up. “She’s amazing! Marinette is smart, and beautiful, and she always puts others before herself! She’s adorable, and she makes the best jokes, and she’s brilliant! Have you seen the designs in her sketchbook? She’s brilliant! And she’s so brave, and responsible, she’s going to be such a good mom, and-” Adrien’s eyes widened, and he blushed, slightly embarrassed. “...And I’m rambling. To her mom. Obviously you already know how amazing she is, you raised her to be the amazing person she is.” Sabine smiled. “I guess, what I’m trying to say,” Adrien continued, “Is that I’m in love with her. I’m so, so in love with her.”
“Well, the way I see it,” Sabine put a hand on his shoulder. “You are definitely in love with my daughter, and my daughter is definitely in love with you. If you two really, truly love each other…” She smiled and shrugged. “Sometimes things happen in a different order.”
Adrien stared at her for a moment.
“Can I… Can I hug you?”
“Of course.”
When Adrien and Sabine made it back upstairs, Marinette and Tom were standing next to a table, leaning over it. Sabine went into the kitchen, after waving for Tom to follow her. Marinette turned around, grabbed Adrien’s hand and dragged him over to the table. There was an open sketchbook sitting there, the two pages completely full of sketches of baby-themed baked goods.
“Look, look!” Marinette exclaimed, pointing down at one of the sketches. “It’s a teddy bear cookie! Isn’t it just the cutest?”
Adrien smiled and hugged her. “It really is adorable, your parents are gonna be rich if they use these ideas.”
Marinette smiled wider, before glancing over towards the kitchen, where her parents had disappeared to. “What took you and Maman so long to come up?”
Adrien took her hand and squeezed it gently, smiling. “Nothing too special, we just had a nice talk. It was… It was nice. Your parents are amazing, and it makes me so happy when they include me and make me feel accepted.” Marinette kissed him. “They really like you, you know.” She said, after pulling away. “Like, really like you. Whenever I come over without you, they won’t stop asking where you are, or how you’re doing, or when they’ll see you again.”
Adrien smiled, his eyes almost watering. “You have no idea how happy that makes me feel… I feel like I’m finally part of a real family.”
“Well, this happy family is about to have a very happy meal. I’m starving. ”
Adrien laughed. “Well, let’s go help your parents set the table, and then you can have a huge helping of Flamiche. After all, you are eating for two now. We have a hungry little kitten you have to worry about feeding.”
Marinette giggled, and then stopped suddenly. “Hey, why can’t the baby be a little ladybug? Why do they have to be a kitten?”
“Because kittens are cuter, are also, I think ‘little kitten’ is a purrfect nickname.”
Marinette sighed, laughing.
“Well, I can’t argue with that logic.”
13 notes · View notes
vdwlkr · 5 years ago
Text
happy as a sand boy
fill for @missscatter​‘s Miraith prompt list :) 
Summary: There are a lot of weird ways to spend early morning on New Dawn. Mirage just never thought catching Wraith baking will be among them. 
“What are you doing?”
She jumped, and Mirage winced at a loud metal clatter followed by a splat ringing across the empty kitchen. Wraith stood in front of the counter frozen, staring at whatever horror became of his interruption.
Part of him wanted to apologize immediately because what the heck? Did that just happen? Did he just surprise Wraith-could-avoid-sniper-bullets-from-three-hundred-meters-away? The other part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation because, well, maybe he’s still asleep? It is 4 in the morning after all, and that seemed to be the best explanation of what just happened—
Until he spotted a ladle flying towards him, instinctively making him duck and bump his head directly into the island table in front of him.
“Ow!”
“You deserved that.”
“No, I didn’t. Thought you heard me, I said your name twice coming in.”
The glare she’s giving him turned deadly at his answer, but she’d look more terrifying if she wasn’t…you know, red from her cheeks to the tip of her ears, dark sweater covered in flour and batter and smelling distinctively cocoa.
He rubbed his palm against his forehead, taking a quick survey across the assortment of used pots, pans, and trays before it clicks.
“You’re baking.”
The disbelief made her lips curl into a grimace. “What of it?”
“I—wh—uh—you’re actually baking?”
“No, Mirage, I’m mixing eggs and flour and hoping it suddenly turns edible.” She crossed her arms, stance guarded but there is apprehension in her eyes.
“Do you have a cooked batch? Can I have some?”
“No.”
“No you don’t have any, or no I can’t?”
“Look,” Exasperated she began, “I know you think you’re funny and I admit it has its moments, but I have to get this done perfectly in about—” her eyes darted at the wall clock above the kitchen door heading to the Mess Hall, “—an hour or so.”
Mirage shrugged, “So let me help.”
“What?” Her brows furrowed, apprehension giving away to suspicion. “Why?”
“This seems important.“ He dropped his palms on the table and nodded, “So I wanna help.”
She’s considering it. He can see the gears in her mind twist and turn, eyes shooting between the spilled batter on the counter and the mess she’s made on the table.
“Alright.”
Still he blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes.” She turned her head away, picking up and handing him a piece of paper from the other end of the island table. “Here.”
The paper had Lifeline’s unruly handwriting all over it, mixed with what must be Wattson’s from several French words crossed over and replaced with common. It’s a list of ingredients and instructions, the margins doodled over by design.
“Mirage?”
“Yeah?” He answered automatically, looking back up and finding her holding a clean mixing bowl and a measuring cup. “Right. You need flour. A cup and three-quarters.”
It’s amusing to watch Wraith focus on something other than lining up her shot. Her eyes still narrow, jaw still clenching, but this time, it’s over trying to perfect adding sifted ingredients on a mixture of butter, eggs, and sugar. Cocoa follows shortly after, and he inhaled the wafting scent as she began mixing the batter with a spatula.
"Stop staring.”
“Can’t help it. I didn’t know you had hands.”
He grinned toothily at the exasperation on her face, tapping her spatula against the tip of the bowl before mixing it again. He turned back to his share of work, stirring the pot of several melting chunks of butter over low heat.
“You’re walking around thinking I had no hands?”
“How was I supposed to know whether or not you had robotic ones?” He muttered with a shrug.
Wraith raised an eyebrow, lips quirking into a smirk, “Is that you finally admitting I have a better aim?”
“Ha, no.” He turned on his heels, pointing his spatula towards her direction. “Definitely not. Did you even see the leaderboards Wraith? I had the highest damage last Game.”
“And I was the kill leader.”
“Only because you’re great at stealing kills.”
“I was securing them. Maybe we should have a spar later just to see which one is th—stop eating the chocolates!”
Wraith lunged at the bowl he raised above his head, “I only took one!”
“One plus two others.” She hopped, actually just hopped to reach the bowl he’s now standing on the tip of his toe for, and his mind went what the fuck. He let her have it because that was fucking cute, watching her pour all of it and leave the container on the table. “Don’t let it burn.”
“Aye, aye.” He does, mixing the fudge thoroughly.
“So, did you have a bad dream again?”
The suddenness of the question sent a jolt through his stomach.
“W-what? Of course nn—of course—"
Mirage sighed, his shoulders dropping.
If there is one curious thing about their relationship, it’s exactly this: she has always been good at stripping away who Mirage is. Mirage would never walk into a kitchen and offer to help anything. Mirage would quip something borderline insulting, have her rolling her eyes or telling him to leave. But as cliché as it sounded, he…never really felt the need to pretend when it’s around her. He could act as silly or as fucking stupid as he wanted, and she still looked at him the same.
“Yeah.”
She nodded, “What was it about?”
He stared at her incredulously, “You’re seriously interested?”
“Only if you want to talk about it.”
“Well, I mean, it’s not that bad of a dream.” He rubbed a finger against his cheeks, observing Wraith pour the cake batter into a square pan and slide the container into the oven. “Just an uncomf—uncomfie one.”
“Was it about being unable to find your comb?”
He shrugged a shoulder, “Couldn’t find my styling cream actually. Dreamt I had to go into the ring with my hair like a bird nest.”
She snorted. “The horror.”
“You’re saying that now but you got shot in my dream cause of laughing too hard.”
Wraith does chuckle at that, “Is that your diabolical plan on taking the Apex Predator title?”
“Maybe.” Mirage grinned back. He added milk, brown sugar, and vanilla essence to the pot as Lifeline and Wattson’s instructions dictated, transferring it into a bowl and popping it into the refrigerator. “Wraith?”
“Hm?”
“Something happened to you. In my dream.” Leaning an arm against the counter, he half turned to her, “I dreamt we were back in King’s Canyon when the Repulsor broke. Everyone had to work together to get to the Airbase. It was insane, honestly. Bangalore and Lifeline had this rivalry thing going on, Bloodhound held six prowlers with no bullets just an axe, and Caustic helped defend the drop ship.”
“Caustic helped?”
“Yeah, I know. Should’ve been a warning sign I was dreaming. But before we could leave the island….“ He exhaled evenly, "I didn’t see you but—but I heard about it. From Gibraltar and Lifeline. They said your heart stopped.”
"Oh, so I died.”
“Wow.” He drew his head back, apalled at her nonchalance. “That’s it? That’s all the fucks I get from you?”
Wraith set down the paper sack of flour, keeping her hands behind as she walked towards him. “People die all the time Mirage, it’s not a big deal.”
“Well, it’s a big deal to me.” He couldn’t help the sudden surge of irritation. “Everything felt and looked real. I thought you would underst—”
She threw a handful of flour at him.
Mirage blinked in surprise, lips slowly falling open. It took him another second before he could comprehend that yeah, Wraith just did that. A glance at the silverware to his side showed half of his face covered in white, most importantly—
“My hair!”
Wraith snickered, “Really? That’s the first thing you think about?”
He narrowed her eyes at her and she quickly grabbed the ammunition off the table, holding the sack at her side even spilling some of it off her sweater and pants. “I don’t think so.”
But Mirage has always been a resourceful man.
Instead, he reached for the sink and pulled the wash hose off its place, pointing it at her with a hand on the switch. A cheshire grin broke slowly across his face at Wraith’s look of realization.
“Don’t you dare!”
“No, no, you see this?” He gestured to the powder covering his hair. “This is a declara—dec—delcra—war. This means war.”
“Hah. I don’t know, grey hair looks good on you,” She grinned, “old man.”
“W-what did you just call—oh game on.” He sprayed on her with a jerk on the knob, but she’s expecting it, diving quickly off view.
He grabbed an empty pot and left the faucet open, just as Wraith peeked from the other side of the table throwing another handful. He dodges barely, snatching the cocoa powder from the corner of her eye.
“We can still drink that.” She called from the other side of the table.
He turned off the faucet and placed the bowl on the middle, discreetly returning the cocoa because yeah he does want some hot chocolate later. “Should’ve thought of that before ruining my hair, sweetheart.”
“Will saying sorry make everything better?”
“Let me think,” He hummed theatrically, “Nah.”
With a flick of his fingers he toppled the bowl over, water quickly spilling to the other side—
“Hey!” Wraith yelped, jumping away.
It’s the perfect opportunity to make a break for the flour, when all of a sudden Wraith slipped. He automatically reached out to help her and he would have laughed about it, had she not used his momentum against him and brought him with her to the floor.
They landed with a grunt from Wraith, bearing the brunt of the force.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Her lids cracked open, bright ocean eyes peeking mischievously. She suddenly ran her hands on his cheeks, hair, grinning wolfishly when his eyes widened in realization.
“You sneaky little—”
Instead of bothering to push her away, he reached for the sack she had dropped, dipping both his hands and smearing the same streak across her face, neck, hair and—and she was laughing, bright and warm and carefree, the sound of it making home in his chest. It made him stop to listen because holy shit he caused that. He’s the reason for that.
Wraith caught his wrist and pinned it to his other side, locking a leg around her own and pushed him off with her core strength until she’s the one on top, watching him mutter a soft, “Unf.”
Another chuckle escaped her lip, “Sorry.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
He chuckled at her answer, then at her appearance, dark sweater now completely smudged, “I see grey hair looks good on you too, grandma.”
Wraith slid off him and rolled her eyes half heartedly, taking the half undone bun off, letting her hair cascade down her back on soft waves.
Mirage can only stare.
She’s beautiful—he’s always known that—and while he thought she’s just as breath taking with her hair neatly pinned as it is curling wildly around her powdered face, there’s just something so intimate about her allowing him this.
He wanted to kiss her
And though he knows she returns the feelings to an extent, he has no idea if quite they’re there yet, so he mustered the urge and let it go.
“You’re staring again.” She said.
The only thing he could say in reply is, “I can’t help it.”
prompts finish here, but there’s a couple of more words right here :)
34 notes · View notes
zecretsanta · 5 years ago
Text
Fic: A Long Drive Home
to: @electric016
from: @gyaxaofficial
Merry Christmas Jinger!!!!!! I’m so happy to have had the chance to write the best OT4 on Earth. I tried to incorporate some of your other prompts and/or headcanons, too. I hope you enjoy!
Their kitchen is quiet. The only sounds are the cat purring gently from his spot beneath a chair, oyster sauce boiling gently on the stove, and the rhythmic noises of Akane and Junpei dicing up cabbage and carrots by the sink. It certainly doesn’t look peaceful, however: all their ingredients are sprawled out on the table, there’s a light dusting of flour over nearly every flat surface in the room (including Akane’s cheeks), and the garbage can is already almost full with the evidence of their first failed attempt at making dough. 
“Next time I suggest doing this,” Junpei says after a few minutes of busy silence, “just remind me that there’s a perfectly good takeout restaurant down the street, okay?”
Akane doesn’t turn to look at him, but he can hear the cheeky grin in her voice. “I tried, but you said yourself that it just doesn’t taste—”
“—authentic, yeah, I know. I’m gonna kick past me’s ass later for having good taste.” Junpei leans back against the opposite countertop, watching the Saturday afternoon sunlight play across Akane’s shoulder blades as she works. “Hey, are you sure you should be doing that? I seem to recall that you didn’t get much sleep…”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies, singsong.
“You don’t remember? Because I’m pretty sure I remember waking up at 3 A.M. to pee and you were still scrolling through Wikipedia on your phone.”
Akane whips around to look at him, jaw dropped in an exaggerated pout. “That was important reading, okay! Did you know the most recent reported sighting of the Men in Black was—”
“What, the movie?”
“No, the real ones, silly. It was just last year!” She lowers her voice ominously, pointing the tip of the knife toward Junpei. “And who knows what happened to that guy?”
“Whoa, okay, can you put that down?”
“Oh, sorry.” She gingerly places the knife on the table. The muscles in Junpei’s shoulders relax a little. “Anyway, promise me that if a strange old man in a suit ever comes to our door asking about aliens, play dumb and don’t tell a soul, got it?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He sidles up next to her and kisses the top of her head, then picks up the knife to resume work on the vegetables. Akane begrudgingly scoots over to let him stand by the cutting board, turning her attention to her phone instead. He hears a pensive hmmm. “Any updates?”
“None.”
A thoughtful pause as Junpei tries to think of something reassuring to tell her. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s got a long drive.” 
Beside him, Akane kneels down to the floor to pet the cat gently behind the ears. “Too long.”
Carlos drums his fingers against the steering wheel, worrying at his lower lip. Another moment passes in standstill traffic and he decides to turn the radio up louder to drown out the horns blaring around him. 
He’s barely an hour into the six-hour drive from San Francisco to Los Angeles, and if this is how it’s gonna go, it’ll probably stretch into seven or eight. He keeps considering picking up his phone to send Akane and Junpei a quick text explaining the situation, but his law-abiding firefighter brain keeps stopping him.
This is the first New Year’s Eve he’s spent out of the hospital in eleven years (not counting the one at D-Com), and it’s painfully clear to him now that he’d underestimated the holiday traffic patterns. The same anxious voice in the back of his head is now reminding him that he could be back at home with Maria instead of spending half the day alone in his truck. They could spend the evening taking down the Christmas tree that she’d insisted they keep up for a few extra days just because it’s the first time in a decade that they’ve had one, and Carlos could still be keeping a watchful eye on her in case she collapsed again. She’s made astonishing progress in physical therapy, but her muscles had atrophied over all those years lying in bed and her full strength still hasn’t quite returned.
But Maria had encouraged him to go, in that gentle-yet-firm way of hers. Every excuse he could possibly come up with, she’d already covered behind his back. A family friend had promised to come check on her regularly, his boss at the fire station had already approved the time off, and (perhaps most importantly) she’d assured him that yes, really, Carlos, she didn’t mind him leaving, and she was even looking forward to the chance to prove her independence.
“Alright, you could’ve left that last part out. Makes it sound like you’re excited to get rid of me,” he’d ribbed as he hugged her goodbye in the driveway this morning.
“Maybe.” Maria laughed too, but her smile was sincere as she pulled back. “And you’re excited to go! You haven’t stopped missing them since they left.”
It was hard to coordinate, since they were all tied up with work (both at the fire station and with the investigation), but Akane and Junpei had managed to visit him once in the past year since leaving the test site. The pair had bought bus tickets up to San Francisco as soon as they heard that his sister had finally been discharged from the hospital. Maria took to them immediately, as if they’d known each other for years — similar to how Carlos had felt when he first met them. An immediate sense of trust despite all logic indicating otherwise.
She had also picked up on everything else Carlos felt around them almost immediately, which made for an awkward conversation after they’d dropped Junpei and Akane off at the bus station a few days later. (“You’re in love, Carlos. I can tell just by looking at you.”)
“Don’t worry about me. Just have fun,” Maria continued. “They miss you too, you know.”
A blush crept up Carlos’ neck. “You think so?”
She’d rolled her eyes at him and sighed good-naturedly. “I know they do, Carlos. In fact, you’re being cruel to make them wait a single minute longer. Just get in the car already, won’t you?”
So he did. And to Carlos’ credit, he’d only looked back at her distant, waving figure in the rear-view mirror once.
Two hours, three different vegetables, and another rubbery, overcooked pot of soba later, Akane is explaining the difference between a UFO and a flying saucer when there’s a knock at the door. 
“Akane, you’ve said too much. The Men in Black are here,” Junpei deadpans.
Akane’s eyes grow wide and round as the flying saucers she’d been describing. Her voice drops to a solemn whisper. “Junpei. I have to hide. Remember what I told you.”
He salutes her as he leaves her in the kitchen to continue kneading their third batch of buckwheat dough. The cat leaps down off the currently-unset dining table to follow him curiously down the hallway. 
As Junpei approaches, he hears another short knock, then another, then an obnoxious repeated tapping that only stops when Junpei jerks the door open as fast as he can. He catches Aoi with his hand still raised in midair. A slow grin spreads across Aoi’s face as their eyes meet.
“Ah. Should have known it wasn’t Carlos. He’s not a dick.” Junpei lets Aoi hook his fingers in his belt loops and pull him in close. “Showing up uninvited again, huh? What makes you think I want you in my house?”
“Uh, I was invited.” Aoi kisses him in greeting and Junpei feels him still smirking against his lips. He absently runs his fingers through Aoi’s hair, noticing the dark roots starting to grow in. “By your fiancée, actually. So before you give me an attitude…”
Junpei turns to shout down the hallway toward the kitchen. “This was your idea? You knew this was happening?”
“We need him, Jumpy!” Akane yells back. “We’re on our third batch of soba already!”
“See?” Aoi teases. He lets go of Junpei’s waist, pushing past him into the apartment. “Your wheat-to-buckwheat ratio is probably off.”
Junpei won’t admit it out loud, but he knows Akane was right: Aoi is a phenomenal cook, more by necessity than by choice. Akane has told Junpei stories of how Aoi took it upon himself to pack her lunch for school every day; how he learned to prepare all of her comfort foods whenever she was sick; how he baked every one of her birthday cakes after their parents died and always let Akane decorate them with frosting and sprinkles. 
Akane talks about Aoi frequently, about all the times Junpei wasn’t there for, but Junpei can’t find it in himself to get tired of it. Not when he technically has Aoi to thank for — for everything. For all of this.
As Aoi heads into the kitchen to greet his sister, he drops a duffel bag full of clothes on the floor by the couch. Junpei arches an eyebrow and nudges the bag with his foot. “Planning to stay a while?”
He pauses to glance back over his shoulder at Junpei. “With your firefighter boyfriend around?” he scoffs. “You bet your ass.”
The nine of them stood over Delta’s body, the old man’s blood seeping into the sand. Akane’s voice was the first to break through the silence. “It’ll be alright,” she’d said to them. “I know who to call.”
Carlos’ hands, still trembling, fell to his sides. Seven other voices suddenly began speaking all at once, but he couldn’t hear any of them over the echo of the gunshot ringing in his ears. He locked eyes with Junpei through the crowd, and Junpei nodded once in assurance, his mouth set in a grim line.
A man with bleach-white hair around his own age pulled up in an Infiniti in less than an hour, flanked by probably no less than a dozen people in sunglasses driving equally expensive cars. Carlos saw Akane throw herself into the man’s arms as soon as he stepped out of the car, Junpei watching from afar but then approaching the pair not long after — and as Carlos silently observed all of this, wrapped in a blanket that Diana had retrieved from somewhere inside the shelter, a name calmly floated into his mind as if carried on the wind. This must be Aoi Kurashiki.
How did he know that? Did he hear Akane talk about him before, somewhere very far away from here-and-now? 
“Hey.”
Carlos looked up at him from where he sat on the ground. He managed to find his voice, finally, after a few seconds of trying. “Hi, uh. I’m—”
“Carlos. I know.” The white-haired guy looked amused; Carlos could not relate. “Good work back there.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’d have done the same thing.” Aoi extended a hand to help Carlos up. “My sister might not have. Her boyfriend could’ve gone either way, too. But me? I say that bastard deserves to rot, and he knew it.”
Even after Carlos stood up, Aoi continued to hold his hand out, palm-up. Seeing Carlos’ puzzled expression, Aoi sighed as patiently as possible. “The gun, dude. I need the gun.”
“Oh.” Then, his instincts finally kicking in, suddenly suspicious: “Why?” 
“We’re gonna destroy it. Your fingerprints, DNA, gone. No one will ever know.”
“Oh.”
Aoi flashed him a smile that somehow managed to convey both pity and pure, mischievous delight.
Later, after the Crash Keys had made quick work of the crime scene, Carlos found himself in the backseat of Aoi’s car with Akane and Junpei. Aoi rode in the passenger seat this time, busy scrolling through two different tablets as a higher-ranking Crash Keys member (a Crash Key?) sped them down the highway.
Akane was squished in the middle between Junpei and Carlos but didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest. Junpei’s hands rested in his lap, relaxed, as he gazed out the dark-tinted window. Beside him, Akane reached over to slip her fingers inside Junpei’s palm. Junpei closed his hand around hers, like a reflex. 
Carlos looked down at his own, the ones that had just taken an (arguably) innocent man’s life hours before. 
He knew Akane and Junpei had killed before, too, he’d seen it, but in this timeline they hadn’t. Hadn’t they? Sitting in the back of the Kurashikis’ luxury car — one of their cars? — Carlos realized he wasn’t so sure.
He met Aoi’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They held each other’s gaze for just a moment before Aoi turned his attention back to whatever he was reading in his lap. Akane’s hand squeezed his just a little tighter, and when he looked over, Junpei offered him a weak smile, too.
Soon, they would be home.
Eight o’clock at night and Carlos can finally turn off his GPS. His truck looks far too big to fit in the driveway, especially next to what he thinks is Aoi’s car. (Is it? He can’t remember. He’s only seen it once.) But he manages to squeeze it in without running over any bushes, and the whole process only takes an extra three minutes or so — not nearly long enough to stall for time as he steels himself to go inside and face the people he’s been dreaming about for the better part of a year. 
He stands on the lawn staring up at their door, digging his nails into his palms. What if he’s different? What if the person they’ve invited into their home six months after they last saw him isn’t the same man they had hoped to see?
They’ve missed you too, Maria had said. At the time, he’d believed her, because it felt as true as anything else he’d ever known. But she could have just been trying to make him feel better, and now he’s four hundred miles away standing alone in their front yard feeling like an idiot but his feet are moving on their own and he doesn’t have time to answer any of these questions for himself. 
When he gets to the top of the stairwell, he can’t even manage to knock twice before the door swings open.
“Carlos!” 
Akane’s cheerful voice is, as always, the first to welcome him, and she’s the first to pull him inside. She throws her arms around his shoulders — which is difficult, at her height — and kisses him before he has time to react. She does it two, three times, light, excited pecks, before he remembers how to move again and hugs her tightly, marveling in the familiar scent and weight of her in his arms.
A few feet away, Junpei stands wearing a sheepish smile, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Carlos returns the smile over the top of Akane’s head — Akane, who turns to look at Junpei and gestures quickly for him to come closer — and once he does, Carlos tilts Junpei’s chin up gently to kiss him hello, too. 
“This is so weird,” Junpei mumbles, his cheeks flushed, “I keep forgetting what it’s like to kiss someone taller.”
“Oh yeah? Then who the fuck am I?” Aoi retorts, coming in from the hallway, carrying a cat tucked under one arm.
Junpei rolls his eyes. “Like, a lot taller. You know what I meant.”
“No, I heard you. You think I’m forgettable. Whatever.”
“Carlos,” he hears Akane ask, “didn’t you bring any bags?”
He must’ve left them in the truck, is what he means to say. He also wants to tell them, god, I’ve missed you, and whatever you’ve been cooking smells incredible, and I can’t believe you’re finally in front of me when I’ve been aching for it for months, and I can’t believe I went so long without doing this, I’m such an idiot, but I’m here now and I hope that’s enough, is it enough?
But instead, what comes out of his mouth is, “You have a cat?”
Hearing the soft chime of Akane’s laughter to his left and Junpei and Aoi’s banter to his right, one hand on both Junpei and Akane’s waists, Aoi sauntering up to join them too (with a cat!) — it’s perfect. It’s everything. 
He’ll go back for the bags later.
A weight has been lifted from Carlos’ chest that he didn’t even realize he had been carrying. Of course he’s relieved that they’re happy to see him, it’s nice to have that irrational fear quelled at last, but he hadn’t quite been conscious of the dull ache nestled in the pit of his stomach that he no longer had room for: the misery of being separated from the people who truly know you, gone and replaced by the unbridled euphoria of finally coming home.
12 notes · View notes
all-time-logan · 6 years ago
Text
Stylistic differences
Did I write over 2000 words just so I could describe what I think the sides look like/give validity to all the different version of the sides? Yes. Is this indulgent? Yes. Do I care? No. Hope y’all enjoy!
Warnings: mention of Deceit and Remus, but like, right near the end.
Word Count: 2179
---
Thomas sighed, turning off his phone and leaning back into the couch. He had just uploaded the newest batch of fanart to his twitter and Instagram, and while that usually was no big deal, something about this set got him thinking. He loved all the work that his fans put into their artwork, but something that always confused him was the appearances of the sides.
Yeah, sometimes they looked like a stylized version of him, with the differences of hair styles, or glasses shape, or clothes to tell them apart, but some work portrayed the sides as completely different. Different heights, body types, hair and eye colors, and all other sorts of things to set the sides apart from each other. And there was nothing wrong with that! Honestly, Thomas loved how in-depth people got with their designs of the sides, it just made him wonder what they looked like, really.
He knew they could shapeshift but had always assumed they just looked like… well, y’know, him. He ran a hand through his hair and stood, moving to his usual spot when he called the sides up.
“Hey guys, I’ve got a question!”
“What do you need, Thomas?”
“What’s up, kiddo?”
Patton and Logan had risen at the same time and spoke over each other in the process. Patton laughed and Logan adjusted his glasses with a small smile, before addressing Thomas again.
“What is it you need, Thomas?”
“Oh, well, I have a question for all of you, so uh…” He glanced at the stairs and tv, confused. “I kinda need all of you here for it.”
Patton bounced in place for a moment. “Hold on a sec, kiddo!” He turned towards wear Roman usually stood and cupped a hand around his mouth.
“Roman, can you come here a second?” He turned towards the stairs, saying, “Virgil, time to get up! Thomas needs ya!”
Roman was quick to pop up, sliding his sword into its sheath and sending it away. “So sorry, Padre, Thomas, I was in a heated battle with a manticore. What’s up?”
“Why am I needed?” Virgil had appeared, hood up and eyeshadow smudged. He looked like he had just woken up, despite it being one in the afternoon. Logan reached forward, adjusting a stray piece of Virgil’s hair, and Virgil snorted.
“Thanks, Mom.”
Logan hummed, not seeming to be offended. “You should always try to look presentable, even if you have just woken up.”
“Hmm, I feel like I’m gonna break that rule no matter what.” Virgil smirked, pulling his hood back and trying to fix his hair.
Thomas looked between all the sides, noting that they all looked like they did in the videos. Like him. He opened his mouth, not sure how to ask what he was thinking.
“Do you guys always look like that?”
Well, certainly not like that.
Thomas winced, but the others didn’t look offended, just confused.
“What do you mean?” Patton asked, tilting his head.
“Like, well, ok, hold on.” Thomas waved his hands in the air, trying to get his thoughts in order.
“You guys have seen the fanart, right? How you guys will sometimes look different than me?” At the others’ nods, he plowed on. “And you guys can shapeshift? Do you… do you look like me in the mindscape, or do you just change to look like me when I talk to you guys?”
Roman gasped, rocking onto his toes as he smacked his legs in a quick rhythm. “Oh, oh! We look different! Oh, I was hoping you would eventually ask!” Roman’s smile brightened, and he looked to Logan. “Can we show him? Please, he asked, can we show him?”
Logan adjusted his glasses again, sighing, “I don’t see why not.” He smiled a bit at Roman’s cheer and turned to Thomas. “As Roman said, we do look different. It is simply easier to appear to you and the fan base as looking like you, but we do look a bit different when we are in the mindscape.”
“What do you all look like?” Thomas asked, turning back to the group. He huffed a laugh, though, when he saw that Roman had already changed and was flexing.
Roman was taller than Thomas, by only a couple of inches, but he appeared taller due to his stature. He was muscular and toned, as was evident by his shirt sleeve bulging around his bicep as he flexed. He was tan, too, with a strong jaw and bright smile. Roman’s eyes were green, and there was a small beauty mark under his eye. His hair swooped like it normally did, but it was a darker chocolate brown than Thomas’s was. His outfit had mainly stayed the same, but now his sword was sheathed at his hip.
“I am a true prince, as you can see!” Roman struck another pose and making a silly face, and Thomas couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him.
“More like true pain.” Virgil said, smirking at Roman’s affronted expression.
“Oh, oh, me next!” Patton said, clapping his hands.
Thomas turned to see Patton seemingly shrinking, until he stopped just under Thomas’s chin. His hair had become lighter, almost honey in color, and was wavy. He conjured up a hair clip to keep it out of his face, and Thomas took note of the freckles that littered his hands and arms, as well as his face. Patton’s eyes stayed the same brown as Thomas’s, but they seemed to glow behind his now round frames. Thomas thought back to Patton’s comment about him and Logan having the same glasses in the sides’ first video and giggled as he realized why Patton had said that. Patton’s face was rounder, and he seemed to be softer and rounder in body shape as well.
Patton pushed his glasses up, giggling a bit. “I’m soft and sturdy like your heart, but strong,” here, he did the same pose as Roman, flexing his arms and making an exaggerated pout, “like your emotions!”
Thomas laughed, clapping as Patton stood up and gave a little bow. “Alright! What about you Logan?”
“Oh, he and Roman look similar!” Patton exclaimed.
“What, really?” Thomas glanced at Logan who nodded.
“Yeah, Specs thinks its because we formed around the same time.” Roman said.
At that, Logan seemed to brighten, and though his arms stayed by his sides, his hands were waving back and forth excitedly.
“Oh, yes, it’s an interesting theory!” He turned to Thomas, eyes bright. “Creativity and Curiosity, which was my function before I grew to be your Logic, were formed in your psyche at about the same time, making Roman and I, in a sense, fraternal twins! When Creativity split to be Roman and Remus, they became true twins, but our appearances stayed similar. There are differences, as we grew to be different functions and have different roles, namely a teacher and a prince, but there are still enough similarities for the theory to have some grounding!”
“I like to say that Logan is the twin that I should have had, versus Remus.” Roman said, smiling at the way Logan seemed to preen. Virgil snorted, glancing at Roman.
“Last week you threatened Deceit because he said something rude about Remus.”
Roman huffed, “Remus may be a brat, but I’m the only one that can be mean to him, that’s my right as his brother.” He paused, thinking it over a moment. “And I supposed Logan too, with the whole fraternal twin business.”
“I want to see the whole ‘fraternal twin business.’” Thomas said, looking to Logan expectantly.
Logan sighed, but nodded, and Thomas watched as he seemed to stretch up above Thomas. He was slightly shorter than Roman, and lankier too. Logan had the same strong jaw though, and though his hair was now pushed away from his forehead, there was one lock of hair that didn’t seem to want to cooperate, swooping down against his forehead like Roman’s did. His eyes were a bright blue, and he had a smattering of freckles across his face that stood out against his pale complexion. He gave Thomas a small smile, and Thomas could see that it was similar to Roman’s broader one. Thomas looked between Roman and Logan, and then nodded.
“Ok, I can definitely see it.”
Roman smiled brightly at Logan, rocking onto his toes again, and Logan nodded in response, bouncing onto his toes once. Thomas turned to Virgil, who still hadn’t changed, and gave him an encouraging smile.
“What about you, Virge?”
Virgil, who had been leaning against the wall, pushed himself off with a sigh. He gave Thomas a pointed look. “Don’t laugh, ok?”
“Of course! Why would I laugh?”
Virgil grimaced, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know, just don’t.”
“I won’t, promise.” Thomas said, putting up his right hand.
Virgil nodded, and for a moment Thomas thought that Virgil hadn’t done anything, until he noticed that Virgil was no longer slouching, and was simply just shorter now. He was thin, his jacket now seeming to hang off his frame, but he didn’t look weak. His jaw was more pointed, and Virgil had a strong nose. One of his eyes was green, the other a light brown, and his eyeshadow was now a dark purple instead of black. Virgil’s hair still hung down almost in his face, but it was now a dark black. Virgil shrugged, his face flushing a light pink as Thomas looked him over.
“Here I am, woo.” He said, voice flat. Patton clapped, gasping.
“Wait, Virgil show him the thing, the thing!”
“Thing?” Thomas questioned, but Virgil only laughed, relaxing.
He shrugged one arm out of his jacket, and with it no longer obscuring his legs, Thomas could see that they were toned. Virgil flexed his arm, and his bicep was toned too. Thomas gave an appreciate whistle, and Virgil laughed again.
“What can I say? Fight,” Virgil smacked his bicep. “Or flight.” He smacked his thigh.
“Speaking of fighting,” Roman said, crossing his arms and leaning to one side, “are we still on for sparring tomorrow?”
“You call it sparring, I call it ‘Virgil winning for the fifth fight in a row.’” Virgil said smirking.
Roman sputtered. “It’s not my fault you cheated last time!”
“It’s not my fault you didn’t clean up your spilt water and I took advantage of you falling!”
As the two got started to bicker, smiles on their faces, Thomas turned back to Patton and Logan.
“What about Deceit and Remus? Do they look any different?”
“Well, Remus is essentially a paler, scrawnier version of Roman, plus the mustache.” Patton explained, twirling his finger by his face as if he had a mustache himself.
“And Deceit looks similar to how you see him,” Logan continued, “Something about ‘not lying about his looks,’ which doesn’t make sense seeing as he has the curliest hair out of all of us and is almost as short as Patton.”
“Don’t forget the forked tongue!” Patton said.
“Yes, that too. So aside from the hair, height, and tongue, Deceit looks the same as you have seen him.”
Thomas nodded, thinking it over. It all made sense, and it answered the question that had been plaguing him since he started putting the fanart post together. He watched as Roman stepped closer to Virgil as they argued, eventually slinging an arm over his shoulder to mess up his hair despite Virgil’s protests. Patton walked to Logan, gesturing towards himself, and Logan obligingly bent his knees so that Patton could try to fix the strand of hair hanging down.
Watching the sides interact, their appearances made sense to him. Honestly, all the variations that he had seen made sense, too, and he wasn’t surprised at the outcome his question had created. He nodded again, satisfied.
“Alright, well, that answers that! Thanks for the help guys.” He smiled at the others, who had paused what they were doing.
Roman bowed, bringing Virgil down with him. “Of course, Thomas! I’m just glad we got to show you!”
Patton beamed, absentmindedly playing with Logan’s tie. “Yeah! Maybe we can appear like this more often?”
Thomas smiled. “I’d like that, yeah.”
Virgil gave him a quick thumbs up. “Cool. Now, Roman, let go of me!” He began struggling again as Roman laughed and began to sink them out.
“Never, Doom and Gloom!”
Logan sighed, placing a hand on Patton’s shoulder as they too sunk out. “I am not excited to break that up in ten minutes.”
“Just use the mom voice, Lo, it works every time.”
“I don’t have a mom voice, it’s just my voice.”
Patton laughed, and Thomas shook his head with a grin. The living room now empty, Thomas sat back down and turned the tv on.
Seeing the sides differently might take time getting use too, but when the evening rolled around and Logan appeared to get try to get Thomas to go to bed at a reasonable time, Thomas didn’t mind in the slightest that Logan happened to be taller than he was.
Taglist:
@irrelevantbutfabulous
@thelesbianspoon
@enteryourfandomhere
Message me if you want to be added or removed!
50 notes · View notes
locria-writes · 6 years ago
Text
cute fluffy shorts for valentine’s day! posting early so it doesn’t get lost later
the theme for the shorts -- Chocolate!( ・∀・)っ■
There’s a frown on Lothar’s lips as he tastes the chocolates. They’re supposed to be sweet…but he can’t really make a qualified judgement on that. He could always ask you, but they’re supposed to be a surprise…
He heard from the maids that it is supposed to be a day where lovers celebrate by giving each other gifts, and they told him that chocolate is one of the traditional choices.
So, naturally, he sought to get the best chocolates for you – nothing less than the best shall suffice, after all – but none of them met his expectations. Thus, he’s spent the past few weeks, sneaking into the kitchens once he’s sure you’re asleep, and trying to perfect a chocolate for you.
He never thought it would be so difficult.
“Lothar?” He almost jumps at the sound of your soft voice. “What are you doing?”
“Darling…why…why are you awake so late?” Oh no…he thought he’d satisfied whatever desires he had earlier in bed, but seeing you in your nightgown made him think otherwise.
“You weren’t in bed…” You frown, rubbing your eyes sleepily as you step toward him. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing you should concern yourself with, darling.”
“What’s on your cheek?” His breath hitches as you go on your tiptoes, reaching up to wipe something from his cheek. “Is that…chocolate…?”
“I…”
“Did you make these?” Your eyes are wide with wonder as you pick one up from the table. “These look lovely.”
“My darling girl, you shouldn’t – “
He’s too late, and you pop it into your mouth. It’s an agonizing wait, watching your expression for any indication of taste, but you merely smile at him. “Thank you,” you say, in a voice sweet as can be, and you press a gentle kiss against his cheek. “They’re wonderful.”
Ah…he never thought it possible to be this happy.
***
For a second, Valentin tenses as his vision goes dark, but he relaxes once the realization that it’s just you sets in. “What?”
“Humour me for once, Valentin.” He can hear the pout in your voice.
“I don’t do ‘humour’.”
“Killjoy.” Despite that, only one of your hands moves from obscuring his sight. Still, he closes his eyes for your sake. He’d rather not deal with an upset girl later on, he tells himself. It isn’t that he’s sweet on you.
“What do you want? I have work to do.” He tries to keep the faint smile out of his voice.
Something sugary presses against his mouth – is that…chocolate? “Open.”
“I don’t take orders – oomph!” You ignore him as you force him to eat it anyway.
“Chocolate I made just for you!” Your other hand removes itself from his face as you clasp your hands together happily.
He stays silent, chewing your treat thoughtfully. The taste is all right, he supposes, a little too sweet for his taste, but not disastrous. The texture is nice too, and he likes the crushed hazelnuts.
“How did I do?” You ask, leaning so you can see his face.
“Forty points.”
“What?” He tries not to grin at the indignant look you level at him. “That had to be at least seventy!”
“Stop overestimating yourself and close your eyes.” He pulls open one of the many drawers, grabbing a chocolate from the small batch he’d made last night.
You grumble a bit but oblige him anyway as he pulls you down closer to his level, and he presses the treat against your lips. “This is what real chocolate tastes like.”
“Valentin…you…you – “ You never get a chance to finish your sentence because he captures your lips in a kiss.
He doesn’t normally like sweets, but he supposes he can make an exception for you.
***
“Are you cold?” Edmund asks, pulling you against him a little tighter.
You smile and shake your head. “I’m fine.”
Despite it being the dead of winter, and a wholly indecent hour of night, he insisted on dragging you outside for an excursion. You agreed to it, having grown used to his antics, but were pleasantly surprised to find a whole picnic set up. “What’s more romantic than a midnight picnic?” Edmund had replied upon your shocked expression.
“Are you still hungry?”
“No.” You snuggle a little closer to him. “I’m fine like this.”
He’s quiet for a bit, as you both admire the glittering stars hanging in the clear winter night sky. It’s unbelievably gorgeous, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of the novelty of it all, seeing the sky when everything sleeps, or if it’s because of you.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs softly, lacing your fingers together. “Something about being away from the hustle and bustle of other people makes everything infinitely more beautiful, no?”
“It does.”
“And having such a beautiful lady by my side certainly makes it a more beautiful picture.” He kisses the back of your hand, lips warm against your cold skin, with a roguish smile.
“Having a wonderful man like you does help.”
He laughs softly as he reaches for another chocolate. “Come, my dear, let’s share another one.”
He tries not to laugh as your cheeks flush – bright enough for him to see under the moonlight – but you lean forward anyway, eating the chocolate from his fingers. But it won’t satisfy him this time for he gently takes hold of you, and presses a kiss against your lips, savouring the lingering sweet taste.
He can’t tell if it’s from you or the chocolate, but it brings him an undeniable happiness.
***
By the end of the afternoon, Oskar is ready to pass out from anxiety.
It’s been hanging over him all day now – from the second he woke up (though to be entirely honest, he barely slept the night before), to when he first met with you today (O Providence, why must you look so beautiful?), and for the rest of the day, he’s been itching to give you the chocolates he painstakingly chose for you (he refuses to admit that Nikolaus helped pick them out).
It had taken all of his courage to ask you on an outing with him to the winter festivities in town. Nikolaus told him that it was a lovely place to bring a loved one. Oskar ignored the wink his brother gave him but invited you out anyway.
“Oh, that one’s lovely, isn’t it?” You tug on his arm as you point at one of the many ice sculptures. He tries to follow your finger to where you’re pointing, but he gets distracted by your face again. Ah…why must you be so beautiful?
“Uh, I guess…” he says noncommittally, focusing on you instead.
You don’t notice. “That one’s lovely too, no?”
“Mm.”
“Oskar?”
“Hm…”
“Oskar!” You lightly punch his arm. “Are you paying attention?”
He lets out a small yelp. “Y-yes…?”
You puff out your cheeks in faux annoyance. “A coin for your thoughts?”
He’s panicking now, and in his panic, he grabs the small box he’s hidden in his jacket, haphazardly shoving it at you. “H-here...chocolates.”
You blink. “Thank you…”
“Yeah…”
“I…um…I got you something too.” You reach into your coat pocket to take out a similar box. “Chocolates I made for you…”
“Oh…” His cheeks are burning as he takes the box from you. It takes all his courage, but he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your lips. “Thank you.”
***
“You don’t have to pull at me like that,” Einar grumbles, but you still tug excitedly at his arm. “The festival isn’t going anywhere.”
“But I want to see all of it.” Your eyes are shining with excitement. He wonders how you can look so cute. “This is the first time I’ve ever been to one!”
“They’re not that exciting.”
“Says you! You’ve been to one before.”
“That’s why you should listen to me when I say it’s not interesting.” Regardless, he puts up no resistance to your enthusiasm.
It’s infectious, really, seeing how joyful and exuberant you are. He can feel the decades of loneliness and weariness slowly fade simply by watching you. How long has it been since he’s felt this free, this liberated?
The town’s centre is bustling, unsurprising, given that this is such a popular folk festival. Without a thought, his hand finds yours, and he intertwines your fingers, savouring the intimacy.
“Einar?” There’s a faint flush to your cheeks – from the cold, he tells himself.
“You’re small,” he says blandly. “I can sense you, but you can’t sense me. I’d rather you not get lost.”
Ah…that silly smile on your lips will be his undoing. “That’s sweet.”
“If that’s what you want to think.”
It’s tiring to trail after you as flutter from vendor to vendor, cooing over simple trinkets, and tasting every dish you see. There’s an unbidden smile as he watches you, knowing that you were never given this freedom in your childhood.
After a few hours, a strange sweet catches his eye. “What’s this?”
“That?” You pick up a piece. “It’s chocolate.”
“What?”
“Here!” You unceremoniously shove it into his mouth. “Isn’t it sweet?”
He chews and swallows it, before leaning down to steal a quick kiss from you.
It’s nothing compared to you.
85 notes · View notes
ssimagines · 6 years ago
Text
Expecto Patronum|| Fred Weasley
Tumblr media
Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
Word Count: 2791
Summary: You need some help from a friend
Warnings: spoilers I guess?
Request:   Hi! Could you write a Fred Weasley imagine? Something fluffy? Like teaching the reader a spell? Thanks love! XOXO
Note: Not house specific. Reader is golden trio age and takes place during Order of the Phoenix. Also I had to do some research to figure out Fred’s patronus, but there isn’t actually a real answer. J.K. Rowling never specified on Pottermore, in books, in movies, or in any interview. There is something that says Fred’s was a hyena and George’s was a coyote, but it has no sources to back up this claim. The only thing about the twins and patronuses is after Fred’s death George could no longer cast a patronus. That being said it’s my headcanon that Fred’s patronus is a fox. I just think it fits him and it’s funny. 
Masterlist
The meeting for Dumbledore’s Army had just wrapped for the day, and it was time to head back to your dorms. This week’s lesson was on the Patronus charm. You were having a hard time casting it, but that wasn’t your fault.  It was an advanced spell. You didn’t understand how Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Harry could produce them already. Well, Harry had years of practice, so that one wasn’t that big of a surprise.
It was actually the second week that you’ve had to work on the Patronus charm, but you still haven’t been able to produce more than a few wisps. That was the case for most people actually. Today though, more and more people in Dumbledore’s Army were able to produce a Patronus leaving you one of the only one’s who hadn’t along with Neville and a girl a year younger than you whose name you couldn’t remember.
You collected your bag from against the wall where you had dumped it at the beginning of the meeting. You had lost track of time in the library studying for your O.W.L.S. when you realized you only had a few minutes to rush down to the Room of Requirement. It left you with no time to go back to your dorm to drop of your stuff.
The room had nearly all cleared out when you were making your exit. You kept your head down and walked alone back to your houses common room. From somewhere behind you, two sets footsteps approached you. Thinking nothing of it, you kept your pace and moved closer to the wall so that they’d be able to pass.
“Y/N,” a voice said from beside you startling you out of your skin. It wouldn’t surprise you if you had actually caught some air.
Turing your head, you were met with the sight of your close friends, Fred and George. You had been close with the twins since your first year when they bewitched snowballs to hit Quirrell’s turban. You had been so fascinated by it that you asked them how to teach you. You’ve been friends since.  
They were both giving their trademark mischievous smiles. The three of you were taking up most the hallway, but no one was coming either way at the moment, so it wasn’t a big deal.
“What can I help you with, boys?” you asked.
Those smiles always meant one thing: the boys wanted something from you. Usually, it was helping them find someone to try a new product of theirs and on rare occasions, actually trying out their new product yourself. Last year, you were often their guinee pig for new sweets, but after a bad batch of canary creams landed you in the hospital wing for a week, you told them you weren’t going to go anywhere near their products that case any physical change to your body in any way.
“Not something you can do for us,” George started.
“Something we can do for you,” Fred continued.
You furrowed your eyebrows at the statement. Now you were positive that they wanted something from you, but what. Looking them up and down, you found that they weren’t carrying anything. Whatever it was that they wanted under this guise of helping you must not be something physical.
“And what is it that you think that you can do for me?” You said.
It seemed that their smiles only grew as you said those words. You felt like you should be worried, but when you looked at Fred, your worries eased. He looked less mischievous and happier. Your initial assessment of their emotions you just assumed that they were both giving you the same trouble makers smile, but only George had the smile on his face.
“We noticed you struggling today,” Fred said. Though the words could have seemed harsh, his tone was made them seem hopeful.
“So, we were thinking that since Freddie here could also use a bit more practice,” George continued for his brother wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
“That maybe we could practice together,” Fred finished. You looked between the twins again. It still felt like there was some sort of catch. Neither of the twins let on if there was one with their postures or facial expressions though. Other than George’s still mischievous smirk, the offer seemed genuine.
“I could never ask that of you two,” you said. “Business is finally starting to pick up, and I can’t let you guys take time away just for some stupid extra practice.”
“Oh, but you wouldn’t be taking both of us,” George said. “Just Freddie here. I’ll keep up with orders while the two of you get some extra practice.”
Fred just nodded. The twins had put effort in to make this work for you. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t appreciative, but you were also still hesitant. It wasn’t just that you would be taking Fred away from their growing business that worried you. There was this small factor of having a small crush on the older of the two twins.
You realized how you felt last year. You went to the Yule ball with George. He knew that you really wanted to go, but hadn’t been asked by anyone yet. He took it upon himself to ask you, and the two of you went as friends. You had a blast joking around with George.
During when of the slow dances, Fred asked if you’d like to dance with him while George danced with Fred’s date, Angelica. Of course, you said yes. At one point, Fred leaned in and whispered in your ear that you looked gorgeous in your outfit. The way he said it: so delicately and sweetly. You knew that he meant it, and from then on you just couldn’t seem to kick this nagging crush on the Fred Weasley.
“I don’t know,” you said, every ounce of hesitation present in your voice. “I would feel bad about taking you away from all your orders and working on new products.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, Y/N,” George pipped up. “You’d be doing all of us a favor. It gives me sometime away from his bad ideas and gives you both a bit more practice. Everyone wins.”
Fred looked insulted at his twin. George let out a laugh, and the interaction between the two of them caused you to laugh. Fred eventually joined in the laughter.
“Okay, where exactly are we going to practice?” you said after the laughter died down. You looked at Fred expectantly. The look on his face was just evidence that he hadn’t thought about that.
“Easy,” George said taking the lead again. “You two will meet up in the room of requirement tomorrow before DA.”
George shrugged haphazardly like it was the obvious answer.
“Yes of course,” Fred chimed in with a confident nod as if he had the idea in the first place. “That works for you, yes?”
“Yes, I can do that,” you said.
You were planning on spending the afternoon in the library studying again, but you could really use the practice, and there wasn’t really another time that would work. All the educational decrees Umbridge has, well, decreed have limited just about everything but studying, so you could be put it off until later. Practice was more important and harder to find time for.
You gave Fred a toothy smile. He returned it, but didn’t say anything. The two of you just stood there smiling at each other not realizing that time was passing. George cleared his throat snapping both of you out of the smilefest that was happening between you.
“Fred and I have somewhere to be,” George said as he turned to leave.
“Oh yeah,” Fred said in realization. “I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”
Fred took off to catch up to his twin who was only a few paces ahead. You watched them go happily. You were after getting extra practice tomorrow. That practice being with Fred was just a plus.
“Okay, I will see you tomorrow,” you said calling after them as they turned the corner of the corridor. You stood staring down the corridor lost in thought. Daydreams of tomorrow floated around in our head.
“Y/N, I thought you were gone by now,” Harry said behind you. Once again you were startled. What was with you today? It seemed like just about anyone could sneak up on you.
“Oh, I was on my way back to my dormitory, but I got a bit sidetracked,” you said waving Harry off a bit.
“In that case, maybe I can walk a ways with you,” he said with a smile.
“Sure, Harry, just remember to keep eight inches,” you said jokingly.
“Oh, of course,” Harry said laughing. “I would hate to break any of Umbridge’s glorious decrees.”
“We could never do that,” you said joining him as the two of you walked side by side down the corridor.
~~~~~
You had just finished your last class of the day. You were swift to go back to drop your stuff off in your dorm before rushing to the room of requirement. The whole day you were on the edge of your seat excited. The extra practice would be a godsend, and the fact that Fred is the one you were practicing with was a major bonus.
You’d never have imagined you would have a moment with just Fred. You loved George; he was your best friend, but being with just Fred, you didn’t know because it had never really happened before.
You walked the hall where the door was known to appear watching the stone work as it magically revealed itself. You thought back to the first time you saw it happen. It had you awestruck the way the door seemed to grow and twist into existence in a place there was nothing. Now, after going there so often, it felt like nothing. You were a little saddened that magic was losing some of its awe to you.
When the large door settled into existence, you threw it open and rushed in expecting to find the room empty, but Fred stood by the fire place watching the flame. He was startled by the sound of the door opening and wiped around to see you standing just inside trying to close the door softly as not to disturb things further.
You scanned the room. Aside from Fred who was making his way to you now, there was a bag in one corner and a mirror in the other. Other than that, the room was nearly bare.
“What’s with the bag?” You asked. “You could’ve dropped it off before you got here. I wouldn’t have minded if you were a little late.”
“Oh, that’s just supplies,” Fred said as he took long strides across the room to reach you. He had a large smile on his face that was so pure and happy. You returned it with your own wide version.
“I was not sure you were going to make it,” Fred said jokingly.
“And why would I not make it?” You matched his tone.
“I do not know, but you are here now,” he paused like he was waiting for something before he cleared his throat and continued, “Shall we get started?”
Happily, you gave him a nod before the two of you got started.
~~~~~
You had been casting the same spell over and over again for half an hour now. Though the wisp that poured from your wand had started to become more recognizable, you had made little progress beyond that. You were growing more frustrated with every attempt. DA would start in ten minutes and you wanted to have this down by then.
“I don’t think that I am going to get this.” You heaved out a long sigh and threw yourself to the ground next to the wall. Maybe it was less of throwing and more like just falling back on to your bum on the ground while leaning against the wall.
Your head was starting to hurt. Magic was draining especially patronuses. You heard Fred take a heavy breath. He moved to grab something from his bag.
He came back to you with a chocolate bar in hand and sat down on the ground next to you. After a bit of a struggle with the wrapper around the bar, Fred broke off a piece and handed it to you before he broke one off for himself. You nibbled a bit off the edge of your piece and let out a small moan.
“Dang, that’s good,” you said while Fred laughed. “Why’d you bring this again?”
“Harry told me that we might need it.” Fred’s laughing had settled leaving the two of you in silence. You admired Fred as he took a small it of his piece of chocolate.
“Fred, thank you,” you said softly.
“What for?” he said matching your tone as he turned to look at you.
“For practicing with me. Even though you have this down and totally don’t need practice.” You sighed and leaned your head on to his shoulder.
Fred took another bite of his chocolate. With his free hand, he laced his fingers in yours. You turned to look at him which meant awkwardly craning your neck up to see him. Your face was really close to his.
He looked down at you. His lips were so close to yours and drew your eyes to them. You quickly shifted your gaze when you realized what that might look like to him. He was just looking down at you with this look that you’d seen before, but could never decipher. Now being so close you were pretty sure you knew what it meant.
You moved your lips to hover just over his. He closed his eyes and you did too.
“Can I kiss you?” your words floated out of your mouth like the blue wisp of light flowed out of your wand.
“Please,” his voice was barely audible even in with the close proximity in the nearly empty room.
You gently moved your lips to touch his. The kiss was short and gentle.
When the two of you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. The two of you sat there a moment before you heard the door of the room open startling the both of you from your position. You had jumped to your feet and pulled Fred along with you.
Through the doors were a small group of Ravenclaw girls (which included Cho and Padme) followed by Harry and Ron who were talking heatedly about something while Hermione trailed behind them, and then came George who made eye contact with Fred and just shrugged.
Padme waved you over to the girls. You gave Fred a small sweet smile before you turned and walked away. He returned your smile just as George came to his side.
Padme and Cho were asked you about your Christmas plans to which you told them you were going home to visit your grandmother. More people came in slowly. When the majority of the regular attenders were there Harry explained that today there was no specific spell we would be learning, but he would just be helping those who needed on spells they were rusty on.
Padme insisted that you join her and Cho who were working on their patronuses. You were glad to have even more practice, but you longed to join Fred and George on the other side of the room. You watched as Fred cast his Patronus. The beautiful fox formed from the end of his wand. George cast the spell as well. An identical fox came from his wand as well and started to play with Fred’s. You smiled at the two foxes as they faded away.
“Expecto Patronum,” you said softly not expecting anything to come from it, but to your surprise the wisp started to take form. A [your patronus] poured out of your wand. You let a small squeal of delight escape your lips as you watched the animal. As it faded away, you saw Fred come running up to you with a wicked smile on his face.
“You did it!” He took you in his arms and pulled you close. You hugged him back. When you pulled away from him you felt his lips come in contact with yours. You were shocked when you pulled away from him, but you shock it off as you looked behind him to see George throw you a thumbs up. You rolled your eyes as Harry came over to congratulate you on finally getting the advanced spell.
Fred’s hand wrapped around yours tightly. A smile plastered your face.
TAGGED: @leftcheek-dimple
FOREVER TAGS: @smexylemony
41 notes · View notes
abloomntime · 4 years ago
Text
A Bloom In Time Ch19
(It took me A LONG time to research and find out what all the paintings in Hat Kid's gallory looked like. If I missed any or got any wrong please let me know. All mentioned paintings can me seen in the painting room through the green door in the machine room of the ship.)
Lunch breaks were nice.
She was starving so before anything else she wanted to get somethin' in her stomach. Looking in the lil gal's fridge, there really wasn't too much of anything. It was all pretty empty except for a basket of apples, half a cheese wheel, and what looked like a carton of eggs. Well, she wasn't about to not get something to eat, and down at least three of those apples she had. They weren't as sweet tasting as she remembered the ones her father grew on their farm were, but as if this person was going to start complaining about food at this point of her life. Sure her life was REALLY crazy up to this calm point, all of it sounded like a really bad story, she was going to have to learn a whole knew pecking world different from her old one, and she was going to have to deal with her past. But if there was one thing she needed to do now was take that darn ghost's advice.
"The important thing is that I can't change or fix anything that's already happened alright? I can't send you back. I can't give you anything from your old life......And I can't change what happened to you. But, I can help make the future easier and help you with whatever you need to settle down with alright? But you got to understand that it's NOT just going to be with a snap of my fingers."
He was right. What had happened happened and there's no way she was going back there anyways, so it looks like she'd just have to start where she left off way back when. Hard work. Save up enough pons. And get that flower stand! May not seem like a giant grand idea like some would expect, but that's what she always wanted. A life where she could surround herself by precious beautiful flowers admiring their beauty and scent and give them all to people who enjoyed them as much as she does. Her blue eyes reflected in the gold coloring of the bracelet that was still tight around her wrist, bringing her other hand up to clamp around it to herself. Her business may have never taken off if that one fateful encounter with the handsome and kind prince from the neighboring kingdom hadn't taken such interest in the way she grew her little babies. He never said one bad thing about them. Complimenting on how deep a red her roses are and surprising him when she said they didn't just come in red...She chuckled remembering that silly surprised face of his.
The prince stared at her shocked, brown eyes blinking as she held out the white and red rose bouquet to him. "Wow. You're telling me they really come in more than three colors?"
She nodded  back at him. "Yep! How many colors did you think they came in?"
He figeted fiddling with the soft petals of one white rose nervously. "W-Well. I knew there was a whole bunch of red ones, and I knew there was white ones because my mother always uses then for balls. A-And I saw black roses at my grandmother's burial. May she rest in peace.....Wait." His brown eyes widened as he stared at her. Poppy blinked when he suddenly put his hands on her stand leaning forward a little. "H-HOW MANY COLORS OF ROSES ARE THERE?! I DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW!!"
After a moment, the red head smiled and gestured to a whole slew of potted roses behind her he didn't seem to notice and his jaw dropped at the sight of them all. "Well, you sure like to learn things, so let me tell ya a thing or two about roses. There's all different breeds of roses, but all of them fall under one of the eleven color catagories ya hear? There's red, white, n black like you're used to seein'. But then there's yellow, blue, pink, purple, orange, and even green!"
His eyes landed to a beautiful batch of emerald green roses Poppy pointed out and his eyes widened more. "Those would be perfect for Vanessa! They match her emerald eyes so perfectly." He smiled and turned to Poppy. "I'd love to have some....But wait." He counted on his fingers. "Red, white, black, yellow, blue, pink, purple, green, orange-....That's only nine. I thought you said there was eleven."
She giggled. "You caught me! You see. Some are different shades of blue or pinks, but they'd still be classified under those colors, but some roses have two colors on them."
"You're KIDDING!"
"Nope!" Turning around. She spotted one of her hanging planters and reached up to pluck one of the ones near the top, carefully minding the thorns and brought it down to him. He stared at it in amazement. IT REALLY DID HAVE TWO COLORS!! It was a yellow rose but the tips of the petals were a dark pink, almost red as Poppy smiled at it. "This is what you call a Bi-Color pattern. Some breeds of roses have two colors like this. They're really popular at birthdays. But...If you want something real purty like." She set the single rose down and looked at him. "I got one more surprise for the history books."
"And what would that be?"
"Rainbow roses." He blinked confused so she held up a hand and bent down to rummage around under her stand. "I wanted to keep these hidden for the time being because I wanted to sell my over stock of other roses first since an unexpected amount bloomed this year. And you know how everyone's gonna be itchin' to buy their loved ones flowers on Cupid's Day. I wanted to sorta save these for special customers." She grabbed a small pot of something and stood up. Holding the pot just enough to be seen by him leaning over the stand and no one else passing by. His. Jaw. DROPPED. THEY WERE RAINBOW!!! Every color save for black and white was on there. All in different places on the petals and some petals being full different colors along with blended petals with two different colors mixed on them. They almost didn't look real. As if someone painted on them blindly with multiple paints. Poppy gazed at them lovingly. "My Great Great Granddaddy Willow 'Tree' Bloomington was able to cross breed all kinds of roses together until he made them. "
"I heard of him before. He used to be the Royal Gardener for the Old Owl King didn't he? They say the gardens were never more beautiful than when he was in charge."
She nodded but frowned. "That's right. That ol' birdbrain wanted my great great granddaddy to never share his masterpiece with anyone else. Wanted them all to himself, but that's like askin' an artist to not show off his art. So when he retired, he stole a few clippings and fled the country. Since then these beautiful little guys have been my family's birthright. We're extremely picky about who gets them...Or at least I am. Papa thinks I should've just stayed on the farm and become a milk maid like Mama." The prince's eyes softened at the small frown on her face but she was quick to smile again for an important customer. "So! Will it just be the one bouquet for ya, Princey? Or were ya'll still interested in those pretty green ones?" She asked as she tucked away the beautiful colorful ones again.
"I..." he glanced over to the emerald green ones then to the giant one he was already holding....And smiled again. "You know I think I will take another lovely arrangement of those too. Equal size."
Poppy smiled. "Coming right up, Your Highness!" In a few moments, she held out a pretty arrangement of green roses the shade of Vanessa's eyes all wrapped up in pretty white paper. "Two extra large bouquets will be eight pons please-" She paused and blinked when the white and red rose bouquet was held out to her and eight tiny green diamonds were dropped to the stand. "Oh. Do you need me to hold that?"
"N-No. T-they're for you."
"Me? Why? I thought you wanted to give Princess Vanessa double flowers."
"Uh.." He quickly gave a nervous smile. "W-W-Well, on Cupid's Day people give their friends and f-family too. It's all about spreading love to those you care about. It doesn't have to mean romanticism at all! Especially because I consider you a close friend!" He grinned wider nervously and wished he could push himself for how weird he must've looked. But Poppy just smiled.
"Well aren't you sweet?" She happily took the roses from him. "Now I can see why so many people like ya! And why Princess Vanessa took a likin' to ya! Such a gentleman to everyone! But are you sure you're not givin' me my own flowers?"
"Hey. I paid for them, so technically they were my flowers to do as I pleased with, and I w-wanted to show my appreciation to my.....f-friend."
"Aw. Ya'll just too kind. If that's the case, then you don't need to pay for mine."
He held up his hand and grabbed the green rose bouquet. "No, no. You did the hard work growing them. I ordered them in the first place. And they're already cut. The least I could do was pay the four pons for them. B-Besides. I don't believe in special treatment."
"Well alright. If ya insist. But here." She looked back down to the yellow n pink rose she had picked to show him and picked it up again, minding the thorns and holding it out to him. "Here! A small token from one friend to another too! On the house!"
He smiled and slowly took it from her. "Well then...Thank you, friend....I-I..Should probably be getting these to Vanessa."
"That's a fair point. Wouldn't want to keep her waiting on Cupid's Day. It's the most romantic day of the year!"
"Heh. Yeah....L-Love."
Sells really did increase after word of the prince buying her flowers went around. That day alone must've been her best Cupid's Day ever cuz right after he left with those green roses a woman came up to her and asked for five purple roses for her parents and sisters followed by others. She sold her normal quote for flowers that day plus lots of extras! She was able to get lots of work providing for small weddings in the town square, parties, and other festive times. All because of one friend's kindness. She felt guilty now that she only got so much business from his reputation but this time she'd have to really work for her dream! And she was totally going to be the best florist anyone's every had in a thousand years! For now she'd just rest a little while and help out with whatever that purple onion jack o lanturn had in mind, and wait to see what he was planning. She wasn't sure what to expect from a giant ghost but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious. Poppy made her way back out the kitchen's double doors after dipositing her third apple core into the trashcan in the corner, and the scene in the control room made her smile. The two girls were sitting on pillows a little ways from the television playing with the gold castle, it looked like a game of princess since Bow was making a princess doll scream help from the tower and Hattie was acting out the villain with that golden mafia man. The other old things like the gold pencil and cookie was all in a small random pile a few feet from them both.
"You will never have the princess! She'll be locked away forever and the kingdom of gold will be mine! Muahahaha!!," Hattie said in a fake deep man's voice.
"Oh yeah! Well I, Sir Cat-o-lot, will save her!," Bow threatened back holding out a small black cat plush. They must've heard her giggling when she came down cuz they both looked up at her as she came in and Bow waved at her. "Hi, Poppy! Wanna play?"
"Yeah! You can be the giant who comes and steals the gold up the apple tree in the sky!...Or was it a bush in the sky?"
"I'd love to, Pumpkins. But I still gotta job to do, don't you remember? I'd rather finish it and then relax a lil bit. There anywhere we missed?"
Hattie shook her head. "No. Rumbi already swept everywhere, the painting room was so small and easy. He's still sweeping the engine room."
"What about the mail room?,'' Bow asked pointing to the yellow tunnel entrance poking out from the wall near the engine room door. "It has junk mail all over the place after Mayor Mafia Glasses read through them all."
Mail room huh? Well she didn't know who this Mayor mafia ..glasses?? was, but if it was the last room she needed to clean then she might as well get it all done. Then she could finally relax for the day. Walking over the yellow entrance, the children went back to their little game giggling. Great. This entrance looked small too, she'd probably have to crawl through there as well and drag the broom behind her like last time. Leaning down, she peeked inside....And fell backwards with a yell. Both girls flinched and looked up at her loud yell as Poppy stumbled before landing on her behind at the sight of two yellow glowing eyes and mouth smiling at her from the darkness. A high pitched raspy laugh rang out and two clawed hands reached out to grab the outside of the yellow tunnel, before the darkness pulled himself out smiling and revealing himself to be non other than the famous snatching ghost himself. Poppy's scared and confused face quickly turned to one of anger as she scowled.
"I should have known!"
"AHAHAHAHA!! You should've seen how utterly scared you looked! That's a feeling I never get tired of seeing any day," he rasped out and looked down smiling at her as Poppy stood up and dusted herself off. Giving him a scowl.
"So is THIS one of the pranks I heard about? Y'know for 'the most powerful ghost on this measly planet' that sure wasn't very impressive."
"HEY!" He scowled back and crossed his arms. "There's NOTHING wrong with a classic hide and go boo routine! Works almost a hundred percent of the time! And you're one to talk about not impressive work." He jabbed a claw over at the watching girls. "Playing and walking around when there's work to be done? That's not productive at all."
"We're already finished."
".........WHAT?!" It took him a few moments to register what she said but when he did his head snapped to her so fast she was afraid it was going to float off and faze through the wall. "You couldn't have cleaned an entire ship in one day?!"
"Well, to be fair we aren't all the way done." She pointed behind him with a deadpanned look. " We're waiting for Rumbi. An' I still need to go fix up whatever's up there and I need to hammer a plank of wood back in place upstairs since we found gold buried under it. Now excuse me." Snatcher gave off a confused noise when Poppy just pushed his tail aside and went back to peer back up into the yellow tunnel. She could see a light and some kind of papers floating around everywhere. "Hey! One of yall get me the broom and somethin' to catch a bunch of flying paper." Bow nodded dropping her toys in favor of running off to the kitchen as Poppy turned back to the tunnel and started crawling her way up it towards the light.
"You found what under what?!" Snatcher turned back as Poppy disappeared into the yellow tunnel. "H-HEY! Don't you know it's rude to walk away from your boss when he's talking to you about your contractual obligations!?" When he didn't get an answer he stuck his head in the tunnel entrance. "Yes? No? HELLO!! Why aren't you saying anything?!"
"Y'know, for a dead guy you sure have a loud mouth!," she called back smiling when she heard him sputter.
"WHAT?! The peck I'm not! You're the one ignoring me!" He floated through the walls after her snorting form.
"Maybe so but I think your bark is worse than your bite, Purple Onion! What are you doing here anyways? I thought ya were busy." Her face popped up out of the entrance just in time for it to get smacked by a very old envelope, to which she shook her head and got it off to gawk around. Papers were flying around alright, they were laying all over the place if they were flying about or in a big pile on the other side of the room. In the middle of the room was a desk with two pans on it. One was green and said IN and the other was red and said OUT. There was also a few pole blocker things in front of the desk like the ones around those metal table things she'd been seeing around. A small coffee table stood off to one side of the room with two blue seated cushioned seats, near the entrance was two metal deviders and a giant wooden dresser, and to her far left was a giant basket filled with more old letters, a fan, and a pale carpet stood under the desk. She gazed up hearing a snicker and Snatcher was there probably because of the letter smacking her face. Before giving a grunt when a piece of paper smacked him in the pace making her snort again. "Not so funny yourself Mr. Meany."
He swiped the letter off his face scowling and staring at her. "HEY! I'm not completely heartless you know. Every so often I steal letters from others and deliver them to my minions as if they were getting something. It helps lift their spirits so to speak. And to answer your question." He threw the paper away which fluttered to the ground. "I often come back and check on new employee's progress every few hours or so, this is no different. But I have to say I'm suprised with how reliant you were for this tack."
"Well I did have the two best helpers in the world." She smiled and finally got to stand up in the room looking around with a hum. "This one might be a little tricky, but can't be worse than a room of snow. And I still have to hammer that bourd back. Bow tugged it loose after that gold."
"Where the peck did you all get the gold? Im pretty sure I don't pay you until after the job is done, as I'm not legally obligated to pay for unfinished work."
"From the Roach King."
"The Roach what?!"
"Ask them if ya'll want some answers." She turned hearing some footsteps behind her and smiled seeing Bow in the entrance to the yellow hallway. A broom and dustpan in one hand and a trashbag in the other. "Well, why thank you honeybunch!" She reached over hand out for them and Bow handed them over.
"I couldn't find any nets, so I thought you could use the bag to catch them?"
Poppy smiled standing back up and looking over to the mail floating around and sighed. "Actually I think we'll be needing a lot more bags if we want to clear all this mess out." She pointed towards the giant pile of letters along the wall. "That spinny thing there is propellin' these here letters up and then they're blown all 'round the room makin' a mess. We'll have to just get rid of all this junk."
Bow scratched her head. "How? I don't think they'll all fit in the trashcan."
Poppy smiled and looked up towards Snatcher who after staring a couple seconds back to her finally got a sense of what she was thinking. "HEY! Just a pecking second here! You're not pawning them off on me!"
"I'm not. You can just take 'em and give them all to those precious lil helpers of yours can't ya?"
"Well...Yes. But who are you to decide what I DO with my time?"
"Oh c'mon. it'll be so sweet of ya." Her big blue eyes shined at him as she smiled up towards him. "Won't ya just help a gal out with this just once? You're other uh...'employees' would really get a hoot from it too-"
"OH ALRIGHT!!" He turned his head away. Anymore staring at her smile and he'd start feeling mushy which he hated. "But I expect YOU to get them all ready to go for me! Since Im not legally obligated to help with cleaning."
Poppy eagerly agreed and sent Bow back to grab more bags from her as she got to work picking up a few of the letters scattered about on the floor at her feet. Snatcher having nothing else to do at the moment decided to leave the mail room and fazed through the wall back into the control room in time to see Bow slam open the kitchen doors and run in. At the sight of her ghostly BFF, Hattie sprung up and bounded up to him. Chattering about how much of a good helper she had been and how she was STILL a better helper cu technically she was still cleaning....Well really Rumbi was the one sweeping away at the engine room but she put him there in the first place. And then when his yellow eyes looked over at all the random gold objects laying in a pile, he pointed a claw and asked about it. Her face lit up even more and she went on a long spree about how she found these mysterious notes in her room and then Poppy found a whole bunch more while cleaning and then they followed them up all the way to the attic. And then Hattie went on to tell him about how Bow busted open a plank of wood from the side of the staircase in the attic and it turns out there was gold in it! Speaking of Bow, she had burst back out of the kitchen sometime during her ramble and dragged a good number of black trash bags behind her disappearing into the yellow entrance most likely going to delivery them to Poppy. In the mean time Hattie told him all about how this roach stole her gold potion and turned all this stuff and the gold potion itself into gold. Holding up the objects one by one up to him. The cookie, the gear, the potion, and her most proud posession the gold castle which she beamed with happiness eager to show it off to him. If he was anyone else he would've called her reaction cute, but all it got was a small half smile from the ghost before the hatted child had the brilliant idea he should come and see the notes for himself. Eh...Why the peck not right? He had literally nothing else better to do while waiting on the cleaning duo up there, and he was sure Minion Number 47 could run the place for a little while longer in his absence. She WAS head of the manor staff when she was alive so she'd have no trouble giving orders to lots of people on a tight scheduale. He saw the notes alright, and this mysterious Roach King they were all talking about. The gold roach statue sat ontop of the papers he apparently left out for them to follow and Snatcher couldn't help but read through them all not that the child seemed to mind at all. She left in the middle of him reading through them, saying something about needing to check up on Rumbi but he didn't care. He was honestly surprised at the letters addressed to the girls, having such kind words to say about them both, but they weren't wrong either. In fact they were very accurate to their positive nature, but if he could add a few things it'd be childish, sassy, and a whole bunch of other things to describe them then just having a gold heart. As they were much more than a gold heart, but hey. The guy turned himself into gold. What was he supposed to expect from him? Placing the notes and gold statue of the roach wearing a crown, he decided it was about time he headed back and see what was up. Imagine his slight surprise when he popped his head through a wall and saw what looked like a large round black ball stuck in the entrance to the slide. Which gave way a moment later and tumbled to the floor revealing itself to be a full trashbag and Hattie tumbling after it landing on her stomach with a thud. The hatted child pushed her self up pushing the comically large hat off her face and scowling at the bag. Snatcher could only watch in amuzement as she rolled it over towards four other full trashbags near the control panel.
"Sheesh, Kid. That's a lot of mail," he commented.
"There's three more bags," Hattie groaned before hanging her arms and stomping her way way towards the slide entrance as yet another bag was having a hard time exiting. Most likely by Bow shove it. "Cleaning is so BORING! Why do I gotta do it?"
"You're not the only one, Kid. And by the sound of things, you've never would've found that gold if you didn't clean up," He pointed out just as Bow popped her head out as the bag shot out.
"Yeah. But now we found it and now it's boring!," she whined back heading to the slide.
"Aren't that robot and Poppy the ones who've done most of the work?"
"WE HELPED!!"
"Then you should have no problem helping her with one last teensy tiny room." He glanced at Bow running back with a smile on her face. "By the looks of things you're practically done already."
Hattie groaned but followed Bow back up the slide towards the mail room, followed by Snatcher who fazed through the wall after them. "Anyone ever tell you, you work too hard for you're own good," he asked popping his head just above the slide exit.
Poppy chuckled wiping down the desk before looking over her shoulder at him. "Lots of times. But I aim to please, and I learnt a long time ago that hard work comes good rewards." She watched the two girls dragging the last two bags away and smiled. The mail room didn't have to be that clean to be honest. There was barely even any dirt on the ground. A quick sweep, bag the useless mail, wipe down these tables, and she even dumped those blocker rod things in the empty giant basket over there outta the way. "The place is mighty fine looking without paper smackin' your face. I didn't know aliens had a mail room...Well to be honest I didn't know they could have a painting room or anything else either."
Something about that sentence made Snatcher freeze for a moment and stare at her. " You...saw the paintings?"
"Well....No. But Hattie told me she already had the place swept so it's already taken care of ain't it?"
"Would you like to see it?," he asked a small feeling of excitement bubbling from his chest.
"I would  but I have the attic to fix don't I-" She jumped when Snatcher grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.
"That can wait! You're taking your once a day fifthteen minute break and coming with me. What's the point of living here if you don't see the entire complex?,'' he said with an almost cheery voice and looked down to the small girls pushing the last of the junk down the slide slowly. "Get good Kids! We have some real work to see!"
At one point, Hattie fed up with everything took a few steps back, before tackling the bags and Bow along with them. They all unstuck pretty quickly tumbling down into the control room with the kids landing all in one giant heap on the ground. Well ....That certainly did the trick didn't it? Snatcher seemed to be please as he tugged Poppy along and only stopped when she yanked her hand out of his grasp. He froze as she gave him a stern look for a couple seconds, before willingly going down the slide entrance herself. Oh if only he could punch himself for that. Poppy emerged a moment later in the control room and glanced up at Snatcher with narrowed eyes.
"I understand you're excited, but trying to yank me through a wall isn't an option. I would've bashed my head into that wall there!" Those yellow eyes glanced to the wall for a moment seeming to register what she was getting at. Oh. Right. Walls and humans don't really mix all too well huh? "Now don't you go doin' that again."
"Uh....Sure."
.....She gave a small smile again. "There. That wasn't too hard was it? Now whatcha going on about paintings for?"
"The painting room?" Hattie struggled out of the small pile her and Bow were in with protests from Bow but managed to squeeze out of there and up towards her dusting herself off and up to them. "I can show you! It's right by the engine room through the green do-"
"Whoa! Hey! That's MY thunder you're stealing kid!" A giant purple claw gently grabbed Hattie around the waist and pulled her back as the giant ghost leaned down to give her a look. "You have you're fun and now it's my shot. Don't be a rude little lady." Hattie gave a small pout and huff but didn't say anything else much to his delight as he put her down and patted the top of her hat before turning back to Poppy. "Well that seals that deal! Why don't we just go see those paintings?" he pointed towards the engine room door. "Trust me when I say this is the best part of the breaking experience."
"I reckon I don't have a say so to your looney persistance don't I?," she asked smiling at him but slowly followed behind none the less.
"NOPE!!"
A feeling of excitement welled up in him again as he smiled and shot through the wall faster than a bullet in one dark purple blur. Making her blink and shake her head. Well....She really ought to see the entirety of this ship then shouldn't she? One last room wasn't gonna hurt her. Leaving the girls to bicker over whatever little girls bickered over she followed right after the ghost through the tunnels. A moment later she saw himself sticking out of the walls of grinding gears above a green doorway and gestured for her to follow as he ducked back into the wall. And of course, she followed, side stepping Rumbi who was still sweeping around, wanting to see what he was so excited over. The hallway there was a little darker than the others but there was enough light for her to see that it also was littered with excellent gear designs but this time it was a very dark green. These aliens must be very rich to afford a weaver to make such excellent carpets. When the door opened on the other side oh boy she was in for another surprise.
"There you are!," Snatcher called from the ceiling below with a smile. That ghostly hair n fluff of his hanging down towards the floor as he grinned. "Took you long enough! Get in here and see what you've been missing!''
She did so and was thankful the room despite being small was big enough for her to stand in, it had red flooring and a green plain carpet running it's length. At one corner of the small room she saw yet another metal table thing with these 'relics' as Hattie had called them. This one was a UFO mobile and under it attached by strings were three cows that looked the same but were different. One wore glasses and a tin foil hat, one wore just green sunglasses, and the other one didn't wear anything and looked totally normal. But it wasn't that that caught the attention of the red head. PAINTINGS!! There were paintings of different sizes, lengths, and styles that she had never seen before. She gawked at the meer sight of them all looking at each wall slowly taking it all in. At the very back wall was the fist thing she saw when she crawled in and her eyes lazer pointed on the largest of the six paintings that were on it. Why..It was Hattie herself! She looked might sweet standing in a field holding her umbrella open, her yellow cap and hair blowing in the breeze. If she hadn't known better she thought the painting would've giggled at her funny expression. Next to that one was a city shrouded by night, the only lights coming from the windows on the tail buildings and the cresent moon painted under it. The one directly under it was a bit strange. It was the face of a gold tribal man on a grey background and he wore pure black glasses. How odd. The other three were realitively small compared to those three. One being a close up of a plant's green leaves, a baby crow leaning against a wall next to toy blocks, and a pretty forest landscape. She could see a few trees and mountains in the distance of it. Turning her head to the right, Poppy noticed the right wall had only five. The tiny rectangle one in the top corner of the right wall was a burly looking man riding on top of a ...giant slab of meat? Below that was a picture of Hattie's face. Well, four pictures of Hattie all looking alike but with different color pastels. The entire square painting was divided into four smaller squares and each one had a Hattie of a different color tone. How strange. Then there was a giant portrait of a man with a mustache and beard. He wore a red suit that looked quite expensive. And next to that was two others, one was a black background with nothing but red thorny vines painted on it, and the other was a bit more stranges. It was divided into three background colors (red, green, and yellow) and had a bubble with different items in each. One was a heart, another a giant green diamond, and what looked to be a small king's crown.
"What do you think of work?," Snatcher asked proudly crossing his arms and looking pleased with himself.
Poppy leaned to the right wall and gently laid her hand on the frame of the red suited man in wide eyed wonder....before turning to him. "YOU painted all of these?" she asked gawking at him.
His smile widened more smug if that was possible. "Yep. And those." He pointed to the left wall wear there was five giant paintings behind the space cow mobile. He then pointed behind her. "And the ones right behind you."
Poppy looked behind her and took a few steps back from the doorway she had crawled in from to look at the six painting hanging above the doorway. Two were big. One was of two burly men who looked exactly alike and they looked to be farming folk like her parents were, the other one was of the famous Snatcher himself, with some king of background she didn't recognize. Maybe a bridge? He was in the middle holding his face in what looked like a very shocked expression. The others weren't grand scale but interesting anyways. Three of them were again Hattie but one looked more like a sketch that had her with double arms and legs. How bizarre. The one of Hattie next to it was her from her shoulders up but wearing a strange mask. It was green and red with black polka dots. The one of Hattie above those two was a much more normal one. It was of Hattie sitting down with her hands in her lap and behind her was a BEAUTIFUL background of mountains, a wide lake, and forest. The last one in the corner was another strange one. It was the man in the red suit again sitting on a throne, and a whole bunch of the burly men who looked a like bowing to him as if he was a king.
"These are...A-AMAZING!!"
She looked over to the last wall which had the biggest paintings on it. The strangest one was also the biggest. What looked like some desert landscape with a single dead tree and melting hour glasses all over it. Above that was another one of you guessed it, Hattie. In outerspace wearing an astronaut suit and connected to her spaceship. She looked so cartoony and adorable! A red boat sailing alone on a stormy sea, she could almost smell the sea air. One of the smaller large ones was just a beige background and just Hattie umbrella painted on it. And the the very last one was an abstract orange portrait of some man wearing sunglasses and a flower shirt. Snatcher however was looking VERY pleased at all the praise he was getting stroking his already huge ego as the smiling red read looked back to him with a wide smile.
"I can't believe you painted all of these!"
"Well you better, Red. Because I'm taking full credit for what you see." He 'polished' his claws against his neck fluff and examined them. "I don't usually do it, but sometimes if I'm bored and don't have a new supply of books to read I'll start on one and work on it a bit at a time. One of my lesser known talents." He then pointed at the room around him. "Couldn't really have these in the forest. Too many ways they could be damaged, so here was more ideal."
"I can see why." She turned her gaze around the room again before giggling and giving him an almost smug look. "Ya'll must really adore that little girl. There's six paintins' with her sweet lil face on 'em. But strangely I see none with the other one."
He paused for a moment looking at her...before coughing and looking away embarrased. "Well. Yes. I'm proud of them. In a way.....But we learnt the hard way the kiddo was allergic to paint and she wasn't too fond of the idea of her being painted."
Poppy guessed he was referring to Bow and hummed. "Poor thing. I can understand how that feels. But still." Her smile became all the more loving to him. "You have acceptional talent for this king of stuff. I reckon now I can say I was abducted by aliens and saw paintings by ghost. Hehe!"
He felt a warm feeling bubble up at the giggle but he cleared his throat and looked away again crossing his arms. "A-Alright! W-Well I think your legal fifthteen minute break is over, Red. Didn't you have something else to do today?"
"OH RIGHT!! The attic. I wonder if that girl has a hammer and nails?"
"Pretty sure she does since she literally has everything around her-......" He stopped midway through his rant and stared at her. Or more acturrately the bottom of her dress with all the rips and hole in it and pointed it out to her. "What the peck happened to you?"
She blinked and looked down to where he was pointing. "Oh. This? I think I got it all ripped up crashlandin' through those trees."
"You look like a homeless maid wearing that." He grunt and rolled his eyes. "Guess I'll have to fix that too."
Her red brow rose in surprise. "You sew too?"
"Of course I can! I made the kids all those clothes and my minions their highly durable bodies." His hand proudly pointed to himself. "I happen to be a powerful being with unlimited hidden talents." ..........Poppy's face suddenly turned into one of amuzement and she snorted again hand shooting to her mouth while the other went to her gut to try and hide the laughter. Which Snatcher flabbergasterdly got angry at. "WHAT'S WITH THAT LAUGHING!? WHAT?! YOU DON'T THINK MEN CAN SEW!? THAT'S LOW COMING FROM YOU!!" She snorted again sounding like a pig doubling over a bit and smiling wider behind her hand making Snatcher give a small growl. "HEY!! DON'T LAUGH AT ME YOU DOTTED FACE!! IM THE SNATCHER!! KING OF SUBCON AND TAKER OF SOULS!!"
She snorted again and in a strained voice said. "Oh yes. *Wheeze* T-The great and horrible monster ghost. Daddy of aliens, Painter of...HMHM! HAHA!! D-Daughters. And tailor of dresses."
Snatcher let out the biggest flustered peacock sqawk she'd ever heard and she lost it. Doubling over onto her knees, both hands gripping her sides as she leaned over and laughed hard, snorting a few times. Snatcher's cheeks lit up with a bright yellow flush and his fluff floofed out of embarrassment as he just kinda sputtered and stared at the laughing woman on the floor at a loss for words. Eventually forcing something out.
"OH YEAH!! W-WELL YOU LOOK LIKE A POOR MAID!! JUST-.....GO CHANGE OUTTA THAT RUINED DRESS BY THE TIME I LEAVE IF YOU WANT IT FIXED!! A-AND GO FIX THAT STUPID ATTIC AS PUNISHMENT!!"
He dissappeared back up into the ceiling leaving the wheezing and laughing woman hugging her sides through her laughing fit. Coughing when she couldn't get enough air. Oh boy. Was he gonna be sour for a while.
0 notes