#form a new bottle? can we also talk about the fact that your husband was making a fucking pot of custard as you had a go at me for having

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 9

I'm late! Ah! Don't worry, I'll do a Day 10 post later today so we can stay on track. Yesterday I spent a whole 3 hours catching up with one of my best friends, we'd meant to watch a movie together, but as certified yappers, we simply had a lovely time talking about all sorts of things. This friend and I often send each other podcast length voice notes that get responded to when the time and energy is available, so it was such a pleasure to interact with them in real time. I spent the rest of the day revving myself up to sit down and write, only to go to bed, literally knock out unconscious without awareness of it happening, around 9 PM lol. I'm not upset with myself about it, clearly I needed the rest. It's nice to have a schedule and life style where I can really listen to my body about things like that, I get up naturally quite early, and I occasionally stay up late, but I sleep when my body is ready to sleep, and that's a luxury I think most people don't necessarily have. Despite my conking out at 9, I do have an excerpt for you and I gotta say, I think a nano-style challenge is way more feasible when you spend October just writing to buffer your word count. Having a back log so you can take days to recuperate, to account for life's unknowable changeability, and of course, to ensure that guilt and shame about not being caught up doesn't demolish your motivation? It's excellent.

I'll be able to do this again next year with this in mind, because working in October to prepare for November is manageable for me. Hopefully by this time next year, I'll also be home, finally, with my husband and having him close by to create with and admire will also motivate me to keep on writing. He is a fantastic writer and I could talk to him for hours about our creative endeavours, so I always feel inspired by him even while we're apart. When we're together? Oh. The writing, the creation, the elevation of concepts? It's gonna be, for lack of a better term, bonkers wild crazy good lmao.

But! My excerpt for you! It's from Blood Sun Territory and you're getting to meet a new character! Chashwi is the local medicine woman for the town, yet to be named, that is the most populated part of the territory. She's been something of a spiritual and medical person from childhood, denoted by her family and local tribe as such because she was struck by lightning and survived it. She's a scrappy bad ass older lady, because we LOVE to see a scrappy bad ass older lady in stories, and as one of the most prominent community leaders, she's formed this town into a place where people care for each other and are accepting of the ways people are different.

When she was young, bigotry and judgement were part of what glued certain groups of people together, but as soon as she was able to make decisions and have influence, ironing out those mindsets in place of acceptance, love, and effort to understand had been a major goal of hers. She's accomplished it at her wisened age, and with all the hard work she's put in to make sure everyone feels at home? She does NOT tolerate people who pass through disrupting the peace. She and her fellow towns folk are in fact, so far left they got their guns back, so when a group of bikers roll in and decide they can loudly be hateful, they realize with a quickness that this ain't the town for that. CW for the F slur and transphobia

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Chashwi slams the bottom of her beer bottle against the table she’s at so hard it’s a wonder it doesn’t break, and she gets to her feet. 

“Yeeeahhhh…” It’s not a word that comes out of her, but more… a sound, a warning that begins at her usual, kindly register and sinks into a menacing growl. Malachi looks where she’s looking, and it’s at the road boys that have congregated at another table across the saloon, talking loudly about their encounter with a group of gay men at their last truck stop just beyond the reach of the territory. Malachi knows these kinds of men, fearlessly hateful, recognizing that the color of their skin and the commonality of their beliefs allows them a sense of freedom to be bigoted, he’d been taught, at least by the world, that it’s best to ignore them. He had been ignoring them, able to hear them jeering about a woman who’d confronted them, a man dressed as a woman, they’d said, but probably just a woman. He’d kept his back turned until Chashwi’s voice had broken through the racket of the bar and now all eyes are on the conflict about to unfold. Chashwi is glaring holes into them and they’ve gone quiet, sighting her briefly like frightened rabbits when a wolf is nearby before they harden up. 

“Whatchya upset for, grandma?” One of them says, and Chashwi slams her beer bottle on the table again. This time it breaks, leaving a jagged end. She adjusts her hold on it slowly, visibly, from the gentle grip one uses to drink, to a hold that might allow her to swing and stab the broken end of the bottle. Malachi flinches when the glass actually smashes, and realizes that he can tell who is passing through town and who has known this place all along by who jolts and looks around in a frightened attempt to understand what’s going on. The difference is palpable, and when he looks at Dolcezza, his localness is on display too along with many others in the room, eyes dark, expressions set. 

“We don’t talk about folks like that here, boys. I am not your grandma, but I will teach you a lesson all the same if you keep yapping loud as you can. You hear? You hear me?” Chashwi says, brandishing the end of the bottle. She’s not close enough to any of the men to swing on them yet, but some of them do rear back, others leaning forward with interest in the fight she’s offering. 

“See boys, the beasts out there? The land? The sky? All that don’t care none, what you like, who you kiss, what ya say you are. But we do. We care and take care of our own. If you wanna be here in our midsts, you care, or you can get on out and see if our land treats ya different because you’re white and men and like touchin’ women. You understand?” The road boys laugh at her after a few moments, some nervously, others with brazen abandon. There’s at least a few of them smart enough to recognize that they’ve made the danger they’re in in this bar and the danger they might face outside equivalent. The locals are queer and black and brown and trans, the locals aren’t afraid to use their guns, and the locals know people disappear out here all the time, never to be seen again, bodies never found. Malachi can see it on all of their faces, in that set, sharp hardness. These men have made a mistake that a couple of them are too stupid to recognize yet.

“Listen, bitch,” Malachi almost flinches again– Chawshi is an older woman, the town’s medicine woman; she is kind and wise and strong, he can barely stand the idea that anyone might call her a bitch, but by the way she reacts he suspects she’s been called that and all sorts of other names all her life by passers through like this, “This is a free country, if I wanna drink my beer and laugh at the faggots with their dress up bullshit, then I’m free to do that.” 

“Sure ya are. And I’m free to pluck your eye right out your head with the end of this bottle, ain’t I? We’re especially free here, son. Free as birds, free as the wind and all like. I’m free to do as I like with you out here. Ain’t never felt that before, huh? That someone might be free to do you harm just cuz they feel like it? Bet you’ve been on the other side of that coin a long time. Let me introduce ya to the alternative. You’re free, yes you are, god bless America. But we’re free too.” Suddenly, all variety of weapons have become visible across the bar. The bartender, Ruby, has produced a shotgun from under her bar top, knives of all sizes and styles are glinting in the lantern lights. Dolcezza has a knife too, one he’s had holstered for most of the days Malachi has known him and that he’s only used to cut plants or rope or to gingerly touch something unknown and not quite dead on the road. He sets the hilt and his fist against his thigh and shifts forward on the bar stool. Now these men are rabbits, surrounded by wolves. Even the more brazen of the bunch are starting to see their mistake. 

“So what, you gonna send us out there to get eaten?” One of them asks anxiously. 

“I would like that very much,” Ruby says, glaring. Chashwi holds up her free hand in an offering of peace. 

“We don’t gotta do that, no. You just say you’re sorry, quiet it down, and come morning you can take yourselves and your beliefs the hell out of our town. Sound alright?” There’s a held breath, and the men turn towards each other, crowd together for safety and to whisper out a debate that the locals are quietly enduring. It’s obvious they should back down, allow themselves to be cowed, but if men such as these had had good sense, they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. A few of them are scanning the focused stares, eyeing knives and hand guns, but no one moves and there is an eerie patience to it, a mercy born of certainty that if the bikers decide they want a fight, it’s a fight they’ll lose.

[withcolebrock]

Lovely

Corpse Husband x fem reader

Summary: Y/N surprises Corpse on his birthday

Warnings: a few swear words

Word count: 1,818

Author’s Note: happy early birthday Corpsey!! I thought about writing a birthday fic and this is what I cam up with, I hope you guys enjoy it. Also please tell me I’m not the only person that remembers Mario Super Sluggers, one of the best Mario games and I stand by that, that’s all. 

~~~

Corpse was never big on birthdays. He hated the attention it brought on him, he hated the idea of celebrating himself like that. He stopped recognizing his birthday when he was fifteen. Never acknowledge the day as something special. Until he met Y/N. Three years ago he met Y/N through social media and she was the first person he felt comfortable enough to show his face to.

The two were never romantically involved, per say, but they definitely had romantic feelings for each other. Their friends were big on teasing them about their feelings for each other, Felix and Sean always had a field day with this. Their friend group thought it was peak comedy. Even Corpse would admit that it was hilarious listening to Sean try to impersonate his voice.

Y/N and Corpse first met on his birthday, he invited her to come over and hang out. She happily accepted the offer. Ever since then Corpse has started to look forward to his birthday because he knew they would spend all day together. He knew he would be happy and smiling the whole day because of her.

He was laying in bed watching one of Dream’s Manhunts. He lifted his phone from his side table to begin to scroll through Twitter. It was the same old tweets and not a lot of tweets from his friends, quite boring. He reached to place it down when he saw a phone call from Y/N. His pinked lips curled up softly as he spent a few seconds admiring the photo of her in his merch hoodie that he took.

“Y/N, Hey,” he said while putting the phone on speaker. He cleared his throat while he rested the phone on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Corpse,” she whispered, a small whimper left her lips. Corpse furrowed his eyebrows as he adjusted the pillow under his head.

“What’s wrong, Hun?” he asked.

“I can’t make it tomorrow, my car won’t start and my brother came to look at it and it looks like I need a new battery and possibly an alternator, I’m so sorry Corpse, I really wanted to see you,”

Corpse let her finish talking while he felt his heart sink at her words. She was all he was looking forward to seeing for weeks. He spent a few days cleaning his apartment, making it spotless. He went out to the store to buy her favorite alcohol and other snacks. “It’s fi-Don’t worry about it, it’s okay,” he whispered. He tapped his finger against his laptop while clenching his jaw.

“We will still celebrate your birthday, I promise, we will still have a good day, okay?” she offered.

“Yeah, of course, it’ll still be good. Yeah, we can-yeah we can do something over discord,” he explained while he tossed his computer to the other side of his bed as he slowly pushed himself off the bed.

“Are you mad?” she asked, her voice was barely audible.

“No of course not, it’s something out of your control, it’s okay I promise,” he responded while he left his bedroom. His gaze looked all over his freshly cleaned apartment, that never looks this nice and put together, “I was just excited to see you is all,” the words fell from his lips without realizing. His eyes widened as she was silent on her end of the phone.

“I was excited too,” she whispered. After a few more minutes they ended their phone call with a quick shared goodbye. He rested his phone down on the counter as he continued to frustratingly clench his jaw. His gaze shifted towards the bottle of Vodka in the corner of his kitchen. He sighed while he reached for it and quickly untwisted it. He brought it to his lips and took a quick sip of it. He cringed as he set the bottle down on the counter while twisting the lid back on.

“How does she like this shit,” he muttered as he shook his head again at the after taste. He walked towards his bathroom, while dropping his head slightly.  He rested his phone and his watch down onto the bathroom counter. He looked into the mirror briefly before shifting his gaze back towards his feet. He started to take off his clothes to get into the shower and to try and rush the end of the day. He wanted to try and sleep to get Y/N off of his mind.

~~~

He was surprised when he woke up when he realized he did in fact fall asleep for a while. It was late past nine o’clock when he reached for his phone on his side table. He opened Twitter to see hundreds of thousands of birthday tweets from fans. His face softens as his lips curled up into a smile.

Over the years his fans would tell him happy birthday, over social media but this year felt different. The constant messages rolling through slowly started forming tears into his eyes. The amount of endless love he always received from his fans always made him feel better and slightly more secure than last time. His eyes filled with more tears as he saw his friends tweet sweet little birthday messages. A few tears slipped his eyes as he began to reply to their tweets and private messages.

He raised his hand as he wiped his eyes. He shook his head as she slowly stood up from his bed while he kept his phone in his hand. The birthday messages and wishes were a quick and short distraction from the one person he wanted to see. The one person who made him excited for his birthday again. He sighed as he opened his fridge, taking a bottle of water.

The silence in his apartment was heartbreaking, despite the love and appreciation he felt from his fans and his friends, he was still alone. He never wanted to remember the feeling of being alone on his birthday again. He loved the joy and love he felt from Y/N when she would spent the day with him. He wiped his eye as he rested his phone beside his bottle of water when it started to ring. He quickly cleared his throat as he answered the phone.

“Open the door,” she spoke. Corpse’s eyebrows furrowed as he stood silently while he waited for her to elaborate, “Open the door, please,” she continued. He chuckled nervously as he kept the phone to his ear as he wandered towards the door. He looked through the peep hole to see Y/N standing holding a small cake. He chuckled as he pulled the door open. She smiled widely when she saw him. His smile was as wide as it could go as he was at a loss for words. His body was tense as he looked deeply into her eyes. “Happy birthday,” she whispered as she stared towards him. Corpse slowly brought his phone down into his hoodie pocket as he reached out for the cake.

“I thought you couldn’t come,” he said as he walked towards the kitchen. She placed her phone into her jean pocket as she kept her gaze on Corpse.

“Suprise?” she let out while she ran her fingers through her hair. He chuckled as he turned to face her. He leaned his body against the counter while he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Come here,” he said, barely audible. She rushed towards him delicately wrapping her arms around him as he slowly did the same. He took a long deep breath as he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. His eyes shut as he fought off the tears of joy filling his eyes. He sniffed, as she pulled away from him.

‘Are you okay?” she asked as she stood in front of him, anxiously playing with her sleeves. He nodded as he chewed at his bottom lip.

“I’m just happy you’re here is all,”

~~~

They sat together with a half eaten chocolate cake with a half a bottle of wine, with Mario Super Sluggers on the TV screen. She leane her head back laughing as she watched Corpse try and get Bowser to get to first base. “Come on, come on, come on, Oh fuck that!” he yelled through a few chuckles. Y/N gets Diddy Kong to get Bowser out. “Oh come on Bowser you’re supposed to be all strong and shit what is this bullshit,” he complained while he sat back down on the couch. She leaned her head back as she began laughing hysterically.

“I think it’s just you, Hun, this aint got nothing to do with Bowser,” she explained. He shook his head while laughing.

“I am so good at this game, it’s definitely Bowser for sure,” he continued. They played the game for a few more rounds, there was tons of trash talk and laughter shared. A full bottle of wine and a few vodka sodas later they were both drunk and still making their way through the cake sitting on the coffee table.

“I’m so glad you came, honestly would’ve been a shit day without you,” Corpse said as he took another fork full of cake and he slowly brought it to his lips.

“It’s been a great day, it’s always a great day with you, Lovely,” she turned her head towards him. He tilted his head to meet her gaze. A small chuckle leaves his lips as he stares into her eyes, admiring the color. “Why are you laughing?” she chuckled as she spoke quietly. He shook his head as he pressed his lips together.

“That’s a new nickname,” he whispered. She furrowed her eyebrows as she tilted her head back slightly, “Lovely,” he hummed before leaning slightly closer to her, “I like that one.”

“I’ll start using it more then,” she said while she turned her head away from him briefly, “Lovely.” He smiled widely as he rolled his eyes playfully. He lifted his hand and wiped his hair away from his eyes as he reached into his pocket for his phone. He opened his camera. “What are you doing?”

“Smile,” he said while he held the camera facing her. She furrowed her eyebrows and laughed nervously. She smiled towards Coprse. He took a few of the photos and held his phone up as he looked towards her through the phone. He admired her smile, the way her nose scrunched up slightly when she did. He slowly lowered his phone as he kept his gaze towards her.

“What,” she let out nervously, her lips still curled upwards. He shook  his head as he reluctantly shifted his gaze back to his phone. He went to Twitter and picked his favorite one. He captioned the photo, Great Birthday with my Lovely :).

He drunkenly posted without thinking about the repercussions that would’ve occurred.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

A Tight Squeeze

A/N: You all can blame @contesa-lui-alucard for this monstrosity... I literally am in love with this character now and I will never stop... I slept on him SO hard and I REGRET IT! Thank you for the inspiration and this fic is so self indulgent I wish Pat was my true baby daddy... Enjoy loves!����

Warnings: tw: pregnancy, tw: pregnancy kink, obscene amounts of marital fluff and love, tw: breeding kink, tw: unprotected sex, tw: doggystyle, tw: very slight edging, tw: body image, tw: slight depression (regarding body image and self esteem), lots of fluff (because Pat is fluffy), tw: daddy kink, tw: hair pulling, creampies (I mean when am I NOT doing a creampie?) a smidgen of Dom!Pat because I CANNOT control myself

(PLZfor the love of Satan lmk if I miss a tag or TW... I am only human and I make errors all the time)

“Goddammit!” you practically cried, seeing the thousandth piece of clothing you owned barely fitting around your new curves. The look of defeat and sorrow running across your pretty face from the mirror as you twisted and turned to somehow wish the new poundage away.

“Honey?” a sheepish voice called from the kitchen in your quaint home, his heavy footfalls coming steadily as he padded back to your bathroom.

His precious features gracing the floor-length mirror as he crowded the edge of the molding on the frame of the closet.

He gasped slightly, surveying the scene before him. His cock stirred in his jeans as he appraised your body, the new planes from the growing baby inside you making you glow with an effervescence he had never seen before.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he caught his breath, your tits plunging out of the small tank top, bouncing as you frustratingly tried to pull it over your growing bump, to no avail as the bottom half and your belly button poked from under the hemline.

The leggings barely fitting on your thighs as they clutched onto your globe of an ass. He wished on all the stars that you couldn’t fit into your underwear and had forgone them all together so he could rip the seam and go to town on your backside.

“Pat,” you whined his name, running your hands over your belly, clearly upset you had a dwindling wardrobe as the days progressed.

“I need to get some new stuff honey,” your pretty lips going into a full pout as the tears rolled down your cheeks. You never had any reason to feel as unattractive as you had just now. He had never given you any indication he didn’t think you were the most beautiful creature on this planet. In fact, when he and you had found out about the baby, he was completely overjoyed and more touchy than he had ever been in the years he’d been married to you.

His feral instincts had kicked into hyperdrive when he became a father-to-be. Making sure you were well taken care of in all aspects including but not limited to cleaning, cooking, foot rubs, nightly baths, and of course reading poetry to you and your unborn son as he grew bigger and bigger.

He loved every detail of it. The gross and good parts, and ebbed and flowed with every single mood swing and nauseous feeling you had. He was the perfect husband, and here he was, looking at you as if you were the most gorgeous goddess he had ever seen. In fact, you were to him, no matter how many times he had been in utter disbelieve that you gave him the time of day let alone let him fuck you three or more times a day.

“Okay baby,” he cooed, coming over to wrap you in the biggest hug he could, rubbing your back as you sobbed over this minor detail in your pregnancy.

He hushed and rocked you, petting your hair, while you inhaled his fresh scent, rubbing your face in his cotton t-shirt as he whispered the sweetest nothings into your ear.

“It’s gonna be okay honey,” he murmured, “you still look absolutely perfect to me my sweet love,” the words making you tear up even more as he kept with his praises.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” his chorus kept going, the baby suddenly joining in the party as he kept talking, “we both think you are, mama,” the sobs catching in your throat as your son kicked a series in your stomach, his low baritone only encouraging the movements as he kept on.

“In fact, I think mama could use a nice bath and something sweet to eat… What do you think?” he arched back to see your head pop up from its place, his precious smirk making you smile with glassy eyes while you nodded.

“That’s exactly what I think too,” kissing your forehead with the lightest effort, “okay, go get out of these, and I’ll get it going for you, deal?” his eyebrows raised as he ran a hand over the expanse of your bump, cradling underneath while you wiped your cheeks off with your hands.

He kissed over your face before heading to the bathroom to run the tub, the lavender scent emanating as the water filled the basin.

You struggled out of your clothing, cursing the companies who made your clothes as you did so. You felt like burning them in a fire or ripping them to shreds but settled on maturity rather than violence as the clothes weren’t the issue.

Your body ached from the weight of everything. The baby of course wasn’t your average-sized fetus, being that his father was a whopper when he was born. You never assumed, however, that he could be as heavy as he felt the more he grew inside you. And you also didn’t take into account the toll his size would take on yourself as the months dragged on. But willful ignorance is what you went with, and with that came karma in its truest form.

No matter how much you hurt and complained, you loved your boys, size and all, and you knew you wouldn’t do this for any man except for your precious Pat.

He was truly just the best partner in every sense of the word. And this simple gesture of making sure you practiced some self-care was his way, amongst many, of showing you how much he appreciated the sacrifices you were making for him and your growing family.

You waded into the steaming water, the enveloping hug of warmth shrouding your emotional state into numbness as the floral notes caressed your senses. This was heavenly, you thought, submerging your body as far as possible into the water, the top of your belly poking out like a small island in the ocean as you relaxed.

You closed your eyes, trying to take in the serenity, rubbing slow circles on the sides of your taut stomach as the baby relaxed within you.

Your meditation was so deep after a few minutes, you never heard Pat come in to check on you.

His hand found the exposed skin, calloused fingers enveloping it in a heated touch as he whispered to you, “how are we doing now mama?” he cooed, his soft smile in the warm light bringing you to tears again.

He was the sweetest thing on this planet. You hoped to any entity that was listening that your son had his perfect features. Those golden eyes, his soft lips, the freckles that speckled his body, his calm demeanor.

“Better,” you whispered back, unconsciously pushing your body into his touch, “thank you, daddy,” smiling at his sweet face.

“Good,” holding his gaze for a moment to peer at your perfection for just a second longer, his smile widening as yours did too.

“When you’re ready to get out I’ll help you get all lotioned and dressed… I’ve got one of my shirts and sweats out for you babe,” his lips pressing against your forehead again as you exhaled a relieved sigh.

“We’ll go get you some new stuff in the morning,” rubbing the top of your bump as you smiled brighter and brighter, “that okay?”

You nodded, peacefully, not wanting him to leave this spot until you were finished.

___________________

You spent about twenty more minutes in there until the water became too cold, his cue to get you and little man from the tub.

He helped you get dried off, making sure to gingerly rub your skin before grabbing the lotion from the cabinet. He knew you liked the lavender scent, so he had picked up a bottle when he was at the store earlier in the month. The fact that it was just about gone being an indication of a good purchase on his part.

He rubbed your relaxed muscles, making sure to massage the cream into every crack and crevice he could reach for you, the primal instincts rising within as he ran his hands over the curves and dimples on your skin.

He tried to shake the thoughts, thinking of the task at hand, but being hopelessly derailed after you let out the fifth or sixth moan in pure bliss.

He snapped then, the ambient lighting in the room looking so good on your naked body as you laid out perched in the best way for him.

“Pat?” his sudden stop causing you to look up from your spot, the pillows you had stacked so you were comfortable during his massage able to push you to see his looming body over your belly.

“What’s wrong honey?” gazing at him in the warm light, his hair tousled from the work he had been doing, his lips quivering as he gulped a dry swallow upon seeing your eyes meet his.

“I need you to get on your hands and knees and arch that perfect back of yours before I paint my jeans,” his tone deep enough to cause a stir in your nether regions.

Your eyes dilating immediately upon his sudden domineering behavior, “like this baby?” you made a show out of it all, wiggling your ass as you crawled up the bed, gripping the sheets in both hands as your back arched just the way he liked it.

“Such a good fucking mama,” he cooed, the sounds of his pants unzipping and the clang of them on the floor, coupled by the bed creaking slightly from his weight on the edge, “back up to me honey,” his hands gripping the sides of your hips as he helped you ease your body to meet his.

His tip barely touching your ass, causing a hiss to leave his chest, and a moan to leave yours upon feeling his pubic hair graze your mound.

“I’m gonna destroy this pussy of mine,” he growled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as he grabbed and rubbed his tip in your wet folds, “fuck this wet little pussy until you can’t take it anymore,” gritting as your hole sucked the head in, your warmth coating it so perfectly.

“Fuck Pat,” you whined, his hold on your hips bruising as he stilled his tip for a moment or two before sheathing it to its base, “y-you’re s-so f-fucking b-bi,” not able to even finish as he plunged even further, pushing your hips so you both let out a chorus of groans.

“Y-you t-take t-this b-big c-cock of m-mine s-so w-well m-mama,” he gasped out, picking up his pace as he fucked further and further into you, his hand pressing into your lower back as you arched more and more.

“I-I’m s-such a g-good g-girl,” you mused back, “I-I l-love p-pleasing m-my b-baby,” feeling his dick harden even more in your squelching cunt as he plummeted further into your hole.

“S-such a g-good g-girl,” he recanted, “k-keeping m-my c-cum s-so g-good,” speeding up even further, your moans picking up as he found your G-spot.

“Y-you l-love b-being all f-full of m-me,” the slaps of sweaty skin and balls hammering the room as the moans turned into feral screams.

“I-I l-love c-carrying y-your b-baby P-Pat,” the tears streaming as you felt the shroud of warmth begin to expand from your cunt to the rest of your body.

“T-that’s f-fucking r-right y-you d-do,” he growled, his teeth snarling as the sweat dripped in a waterfall from his short locks, the songs of your cries opening his senses to overdrive as he watched you writhe under him.

“Y-you c-cum on t-this m-monster c-cock of y-yours,” he grunted, feeling your walls vibrate around him and your screams emanate. As a last-ditch effort, he moved his hand on your back to grab your messy bun, pulling the hair to cement your rapture.

“F-fuck P-Pat!” you came, and you came hard. The damn breaking to coat his dick in your sweet sticky release wave upon wave, the wet sounds sending him over the edge as he pummeled the last of his efforts into your spent pussy.

He grit his teeth again, pushing in two more times before emptying his large load into your occupied cunt, the overload spilling out in a thick mixture while he pumped lazily in and out, musing at the sight.

He pulled out slowly, holding your hips so you could relax a little bit before guiding you to the side and surrounding your body with an abundance of pillows once more.

“So much for a bath,” you sighed and laughed, fanning yourself in a sweaty haze.

“I’m sorry honey,” he chuckled too, grabbing a towel to wipe you and then himself off, “I wasn’t even thinking about it… I just got too riled up from the clothes you were wearing earlier, and I…” he trailed off, watching a smile creep over your face as he talked.

“Really?” your curiosity getting the better of you, “you liked me in those clothes?”

“Ummm,” he sheepishly blushed, “y-yes?” itching the back of his head trying to avoid any eye contact with you.

“Well....” you adjusted as the baby began to make himself known for the night, “I guess I know what I need to do in the future,” winking as he found the other side of the bed, curling up to run his hand over your belly.

“Honey,” he whispered, “you don’t have to be doing anything for me to get turned on by you�� I’m just in love with you either way,” his admission making you misty-eyed while you felt his light touches on your skin.

“But I have to admit… I really like this kind of look on you,” gesturing to all of your figure from head to toe.

“Well, you made me this way,” inching in to kiss his plush lips, him returning as you both pecked each other for a few seconds.

“I’ll keep you this way if you want me to,” his voice barely loud enough for you to hear, “keep you all knocked up and gorgeous for as long as you let me,” his words going straight to your cunt again as he kissed you again and again.

“As many times as you wish… Daddy,” winking and kissing him deeply, a smile inching over his lips as yours met.

“I love you,” his faint words cutting into your soul as if he was saying it for the first time.

“I love you,” returning it with a smile and a nuzzle into his neck as you began to drift off together in sticky paradise.

___________

Well... What did we all learn today? That I have a total fucking issue with not being his baby mama and that I have staples that I stick to and will not waiver from in my deepest darkest fantasies... Goodnight everyone I love you and I'll be crawling back into my festering hole to think about what I have done.

Oneshot Taglist: @maybe-your-left, @safarigirlsp, @clydesfavoritegirl, @thepalaceofmelanie, @hopeamarsu, @caillea, @historyandfandoms50, @mariesackler, @millenialcatlady, @thepriceofstars, @roanniom, @kathorax, @driversmutbucket, @clydes-hole, @xxcatrenxx, @paper-n-ashes

(Plz lmk if you would love to be added/removed from the taglist... Thank you all for the love and the support for this absolute garbage)

[museit]

@theanimangagirl My dear, may I piggyback off your post, I saw your comment in the comment section and this dawned on me.

It wouldn't be surprising either to considering Persephone now has the power to do her mother's job and hers. She literally has free range to let all her powers out that have been bottling up inside her since her mom has held her back.

I mean think about it, she will finally embrace her powers and wrath as intended. Being able to express herself while growing a back bone and punching Apollo in the balls, (metaphorically although I wish it was literally) by growing stronger.

This could also mean that if she were to have outside help, maybe some Psyche to give her intel on what's been going on since (Thunder Dong) has made shit worse for all gods and goddesses working. It could be the challenge that Aphrodite can appoint her to without raising suspension and a test for Psyche to prove her love for Eros once more by helping Perse.

Blending both myths together seamlessly. My guess is that LO may come back around the winter time...Septemberish- October at best.

(Don't worry I am fully aware now that I am wrong on dates its gonna come back again)

Now for the extra characters that we need to discuss 👀

Lord...what is (Thunder Dong) gonna do now that he's fucking ruined everything with his last minute decision?

Have the moment biggest ass backlash I have ever seen in a person since he started shit. (His "mini me" will get it more so) he will finally and regrettably realize that Persephone is in fact a fertility goddess and that Ares was correct on his feeling of his brother over powering him if Hades got married with Perse.

Not only that but both Hades and Hera most of all are gonna be on his purple ass for making this decision.

Hera - I hope she becomes super wrathful with the notion that her "faithful" husband has not only undermined her of everything he's done with her. (Not hearing her words on Apollo, the cheating with Leto, this damn trial) Finally getting to see her truly angry would be magical.

Testing her patience until she breaks when finding out about Thetis. Can't wait to see her kicked out of Olympus. Showing him that he fucked up, and hopefully gets a divorce. (Our girl deserves better)

Hades - We all know this man is never ever going to forget and forgive him for doing this to him. The case was literally for Hades to decide since it was technically under his ruling and territory. Now with his future wife gone and the balance with everything misplaced this will be the exact time he will make to kidnap Persephone back to Underworld like in the myths. BUT! he would need some assistance with it so I feel he would possibly ask Psyche and Aphrodite for assistance. He's going to give (Thunder Dong) hell for what's he's done.

Psyche - She is a mortal covered up to be a mortal world nymph. Bring back the glamor of her "nymph form" to help Persephone. And help with things as Goddess of Spring and Agriculture. Giving the word on what's going on, Maybe even talk about personal issues together to help Perse overcome trauma.

Being a helpful ally to her and completing her tasks to once again prove herself to her love for Eros and becoming the Goddess of the Mind after. Staying in Olympus as a new Olympian. She is literally the greatest loophole to (Thunder Dong's) punishment, going under the table while also find Demeter.

*Apollo* - (the man doesn't deserve his name colored ) Now we already knew that the paternity test, now he is the father to this dumbass and Artemis. He will be all over, he as to worry about him usurping the throne as Leto wants him. This would bring his reputation down even more since we all know even the other characters mentioned somewhat that this foul has hurt Persephone. Its gonna be used against him and his "Hellspawn™️."

That not only he didn't bother to listen to Hera and Hades. That both were correct, and he let one of his Olympian become a disgrace. Let's hope to Gaia that he gets hurt by Persephone or Hades. (I know in the mythos he does die at some point but idk with this one 👀🙏🏽)

Last but definitely not least...

Father of time and whom everyone fears the most to come back!

Kronos...🕑

He is now our biggest threat in the series, we don't know what he's gonna do now but we do know that he smells a certain fertility goddess. (Thunder Dong) and overall everyone are going to have a massive problem with him trying to break free from Tartarus to get to our beautiful queen. Regain his powers and take back Olympus, bring in a World War 2 in his wake.

A being that can control time itself is no laughing matter and (TD) is gonna have issues trying to stop him now that he recked everything. In order to now break the cycle he will grudgingly have to ask for Hades and Co's help.

What to see in the future

• Hopefully we get to see that Artemis finally realized and pieces together why Perse won't tell her about her brother. And step up to that plate as the true leader and protector of TGOEM. Giving her a sense of purpose and redemption she needs for herself being the Goddess of Hunt. Maybe she can do some justice hunting on her own brother.

• Demeter with her helicopter parent self can calm the fuck down, and realize that Persephone is a grown woman. And can handle herself being a fertility goddess and Queen of the Underworld. That eventually she will have to get used to seeing Hades more often. And maybe kick Apollo's ass for hurting her daughter the most of all. Finally seeing her daughter for who she is and letting her be free.

• Psyche becoming the next Olympian and Goddess of the Mind. Having her and Eros together at last.

• Daphne coming back from hibernation now that Persephone is Spring and Agriculture. Being with Thanatos. (Hopefully not reincarnated 👀)

• Hera kicking off both Zeus and Thetis out and ruling Olympus herself. Finding love with a certain blue nymph as Ares puts it. Living her best life.

• Apollo's punishment and exile of Olympus, as well as his ability to love die.

• Hades finally getting back the person who has seen him for him in his lif. And even more happy to marry. Be ruling partner along side him forever with Persephone.

• Zeus get absolutely fucking nothing and no one. 😊

[hearteyes-candyskies]

mint

yandere enji x reader

summary; every gardner knows that if you leave mint unchecked it'll take over the whole garden. enji hasn't checked up on you in a while

a/n; a continuation of houseplant and commish for @neroesecuzioni

tw; pregnancy, implied abortion, threat of physical abuse, a baby walks into enji’s fiery body and disappears in like the first couple paragraphs

word count; 4.1k

🌱

It’s the same dream again. You hold your son in your arms, his hazel eyes round and wide, gazing at you with a look so pure and curious and knowing that you can’t fathom any other option except to love him. His small hands grab at your face as you rock him in your arms, humming a simple melody as his eyelids slowly close. 

The sight of his perfectly content face as he sleeps brings a flood of joy through your heart like you’ve never known before, and you set him down gently in his crib before turning to do something else. It’s always something different every time; you go to warm up a bottle, you leave to get his stuffed animal from the wash, or maybe you go to get a cool washcloth for his slightly too-warm face. The result is always the same.

You return, object in hand, to find an empty crib. You turn around, frantically searching for your son, only to look out the window and see Enji’s burning form in the backyard. As you rush down the stairs and out the back door you finally see him- your son, the joy and love of your life, crawling towards your husband who looks at him with little more than cool indifference on his face. 

On good nights, you wake up then, sweat coating your body and chest heaving as you calm your racing pulse and convince yourself that it’s just a dream. Most of the time, though, you watch, rooted to the spot and horrified as your perfect, sweet, helpless little baby crawls straight into your husband’s fire. It doesn’t help that he vanishes almost as soon as the flames hit him. If anything, the uncertainty of his fate hurts worse. 

On these nights, the sight of Enji’s callous blue eyes are the last thing you see before you wake, cold enough to burn. You always wake with tears on your cheeks, sheets tangled from your thrashing. Enji used to wake with you, trying to soothe you in the best attempt that he could manage, but after one too many panicked blows to the face he’s given up, merely moving to the downstairs couch whenever it happens. 

You can’t tell if you’re disappointed by that or not. In the past month your dreams have been getting more and more frequent, almost always ending with the image of Enji’s cold blue eyes seared into your brain, and you can’t tell what that means. 

You don’t want to know what that means. 

🌱

Lately, the garden has become a place of refuge for you. What started as a meager little plastic pot holding a pathetically wilted tomato plant has now become two full garden beds and a hearty-looking peach sapling. The mint plant has its own cute little terracotta pot, lest it terrorize and take over the rest of your carefully-tended plants. 

As the frequency of your dreams increase, so does your time spent gardening. The raised beds are bursting with plants and produce, and you’re starting to eye the yard surrounding your little garden as free real estate. 

You’ve been saving newspapers for a while now, with Enji buying you one every time he leaves the house, and now all you need is a bag or two of mulch and some straw. And maybe also some wooden stakes and chicken wire. And more wood for more garden beds. And seeds for the new beds. 

Okay. Maybe you need a little more than you thought. At this point it would just be easier for you to go and pick it up yourself; you know exactly what you need and if you think of something else you want you don’t have to frantically text Enji and pray that he reads it in time.

You haven’t been outside for such a long time. Well, you’re outside right now, but like, outside in society? When was the last time you stepped foot in a supermarket? As a matter of fact, when was the last time you set foot off the property? Your inability to answer those questions leaves you restless and desperate to prove your independence. 

Maybe…no... Enji’s made it clear on numerous occasions that you’re not leaving the house. Except, he can’t really be thinking about keeping you here forever, right? He’ll reintroduce you to society, he has to, even if it’s not for another month or so. You assume that it’s been about six months since you were first brought here. 

The hunger for a taste of the outside world plagues you for the rest of the morning, and you find yourself unable to concentrate on anything. It’s after lunch that you grow bold and restless enough to finally broach the topic with Enji, satiated by a light meal that just happened to use some of the vegetables from your garden. The fact that you’re drinking lemonade made with mint from the garden is also a coincidence. 

“So, I was thinking about expanding the garden this morning. I’ve got enough newspaper to cover the amount of land that I want to turn into beds and I just need a couple things from the store?” Enji grunts in acknowledgement, looking up briefly from his reports.

“Write them down and I’ll get them from the store tomorrow.” Your fingers twist nervously and you take a deep breath.

“I was actually thinking that I could go with you?” It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, and you curse yourself for it. Not that it matters, apparently, because Enji doesn’t even look up again. You wait a second before repeating yourself. Maybe he just didn’t hear you correctly?

“I was thinking that I could go with you to pick the supplies up. It’s a lot to get and that way if I forget to write something down on the list I’m already there and don’t have to text you to make a double trip.” At your calm, firm tone Enji finally raises his head, putting the tablet down. 

“That’s nice, y/n.” You lean forward expectantly, waiting to hear his approval. He reaches for the tablet again, and you feel a spike of irritation lance through you.

“Can I go?” It takes a lot of effort for you to ask civilly, though it’s rewarded by Enji’s mildly surprised reaction.

“You were serious?” You stare in shock? Were you serious? Were you serious? Is he fucking serious?

“Yes, Enji, I’m serious! It’s been-” You stand, pausing to scroll through the calendar on your phone, looking for the little marker you placed on the day that you first woke up here. You scroll for a very long time.

“It’s been a little less than a yea-” You choke. “It’s been a little less than a year since I’ve first got here.” He says nothing, face dangerously neutral, and you slowly step forward, holding one of his massive hands in both of yours. 

“Please. I want to be able to go outside again.” There’s a subtle tick in his jaw.

“You can go outside. We have a yard. You have your garden.” You give his hand a little shake. 

“Enji, please. You know what I mean. I want to be able to get in a car and drive myself to get groceries or seeds or whatever else I need.” Again, that tightening of his jaw.

“I already get you what you need.” You feel tears of frustration sting the back of your eyes, and force yourself to take a deep breath.

“You know I won’t try to run. Please, I would never leave you like that. Haven’t I done everything that you wanted since I came here? Enji, I just want to have some control over my life back. I was a pro, I used to disappear for missions for weeks at a time but I always came back. Why can’t you trust me to come back to you after a trip to the grocery store?” Tears are beginning to blur your vision, but you can still make out the softening of Enji’s face as he listens to you. You feel hope start to soar in your chest and-

“You’re so cute when you’re passionate. We can talk about this later.” The hope thuds down to your stomach, quickly dissolved in a pool of irritation and anger. You resist the urge to squeeze his hand as hard as you can and instead stroke your thumb across it as soothingly as you can.

“Enji, you’re eventually going to let me go about a semi-normal life, right? We can start now, with you watching me.” Your voice is light and encouraging, and Enji raises an eyebrow, somewhat placated.

“When did I say that?” Involuntarily your grip on his hand tightens. 

“What?” He looks you straight in the eyes, gaze mildly patronizing.

“When did I say that?” You sputter.

“I just- You- You can’t be planning on keeping me locked away forever! I’ve been so good for you and I’ve done everything you wanted and eventually you’ll let me out of the house, right?” Enji just stares at you, unmoved.

“I’ve already let you out of the house. Where do you think the garden is?” Something deep seated and ugly within you snaps, and you throw his hand down and away, flinging your own out.

“ENJI! I’ve stayed here and done everything you’ve asked of me, I’ve fucking gotten down on my knees to clean up and suck your dick, I’ve fucked you without complaint and you won’t let me go to the store? I had a perfect mission completion rate before you took me, you know.” You sneer.

“Except you wouldn’t because you didn’t bother to learn anything about me before you took me. Do you know how many men I could’ve killed in the dead of night, how many men’s throats I could’ve slit as they lay beside me? Consider yourself lucky that I haven’t decided to do the same to you.” 

The shock on his face quickly gives way to anger, and you scoff at the way flames dance along his hands. 

“Go ahead. Burn me. Mark me like your property, cripple me like you crippled your fucking wife and like how your wife marked your son. Maybe after you brand me I’ll start to love you more.” Flames burst out along his whole body and face, until you’re no longer looking at Enji, only Endeavor.

“You ungrateful little bitch!” He swings his arm down, hellfire in his grasp, and it takes everything in you not to flinch. If he wants to hurt you he can hurt you. You both know there’s nothing you can do to stop him.

His hand stops millimeters away from burning off your face, flames vanishing abruptly in what you know is a massive show of power. His fist trembles before falling, and when you look him in the eyes again his face is confused and awe-struck. 

“You would have let me hit you.” The words come out whispered and reverent. Your tears fall in a silent stream down your cheeks.

“When have I ever been able to stop you?” There’s nothing Enji can say to that, and nothing more that you have to say to him, and slowly, laboriously, you climb the stairs and make your way back to your old bedroom. 

🌱

When you open the door you’re met with the same sight you saw after first waking here, and the memory alone is almost enough to break you. Apparently Enji’s love for you alone isn’t enough to grant you even a sliver of control. Apparently, Enji’s never truly loved you.

The world outside is dark by the time you decide to stop sulking. Enji barricaded himself in your, no, his room shortly after you slammed the door on your own and left once to fix himself dinner. You’re pretty sure that he’s been done for a while, but just to make sure you peek your head out the door, listening intently for any sounds of movement.

Upon hearing none, you creep your way down the stairs, finding the kitchen lights on but the room empty, to your relief. Your stomach growls, and you hurry to make a simple dinner of rice and miso soup with pan-fried fish cakes on the side. Your eyes go soft as you remember how your mother used to make this for you on nights that she didn’t feel like cooking. 

The meal comes together in minutes, and your mouth waters as you sit down at the dinner table to take your first bites. You don’t even taste what you're shoveling in your mouth for the first few bites until you do, and suddenly you’re making a mad dash for the bathroom. 

Nothing comes up, thankfully, but you spend a good minute or two gagging and producing spit. Okay, maybe you ate too fast. It’s when you catch sight of the pregnancy test in the trash that you pause. Enji doesn’t give you birth control and he sure as hell doesn’t wear a condom, so to soothe your anxieties you ordered a bulk box or pregnancy tests online and take a test every week. You’ve been lucky so far, but…

The hastiness with which you open the box makes you fumble it, and you take a minute to calm yourself. As you set the test aside after peeing on it, you think about how you would go about telling Enji that you’re pregnant. Would you tell him? There have to be home-brew remedies to an unwanted pregnancy. 

Before long, the ten minutes are up. With shaking hands, you pick the box back up. For a second, you hesitate. Is this really something you want to know? What do you even want to see? You can’t answer either of those questions, so instead you just open the box, eyes closed as you grab at the little stick of plastic. 

You feel the front, orienting the test so that you’ll be able to read it, and open your eyes. The world drops out around you and you feel all the air on your body leave in a single, shaky breath. God. Maybe you should tell Enji.

🌱

You get up early the next morning, needing the extra time to prepare a traditional breakfast before Enji wakes. You hope that the familiar food will make him more amiable to what you’re about to say to him.

You’re just about done pan-frying the fish when the telltale sound of Enji’s footsteps hurrying down the stairs reaches your ears. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the kitchen, and you turn to see him looking at the already set table with a look of mild shock on his face. 

He just stands in the doorway, watching as you turn off the stove and carry the pan over to the table to serve up the fish. You place the now-empty pan back on the stove before untying your apron and getting a mug from the cabinets.

“Coffee?” His shoulders tense at the sound of your voice, and something close to guilt and apprehension crosses his face.

“Yes please.” You hum in acknowledgement, filling the mug almost all the way before pouring in a little bit of whole milk, just the way Enji likes it. You set it down on the table before going to get yourself a glass. 

Enji gingerly slides into his seat, like a child who’s not quite sure whether it’s okay for them to sneak into their parent’s bed at night. You smile at the comparison, and the relief that breaks on his face is obvious. 

You fill the glass with water, emptying the coffee grounds in the trash before taking a seat at the table. Enji stares expectantly at your glass of water, and then to the coffee pot. You raise an eyebrow.

“Yes?” He blinks.

“Are you going to pour yourself a cup of coffee?” Enji’s voice is mild and hesitant, like he’s afraid that the smallest change in tone will set you off. You slide into your seat at the breakfast table, setting your glass of water down.

“Oh, honey, too much caffeine isn’t good for the baby.” The effect of your words is instantaneous. There’s a look of guarded wistfulness in his eyes, mouth slack with surprise and his formerly clenched hand soft as he reaches for yours. You let him take it.

“The baby?” He glances down at your stomach, as if it’ll confirm what he’s hearing. “You’re...pregnant?” You give him a sweet, affirming smile.

“Judging by when my last period was I’m two weeks in.” Enji rises from his seat, walking around the table to kneel between your legs, a large hand splayed reverently across your abdomen. 

“I’m going to be a father again.” This is both the happiest and weakest you’ve ever seen Enji in your life. This is probably the happiest and weakest he’s ever been in his life. Then, like a bucket of ice-water being dumped on him, his mood switches.

“You don’t want a baby.” There it is. The realization you were waiting for. You smile with far too many teeth, eyes cruel and sharp.

“But you do.” The words hit him like a slap across the face, and sadistically, you revel in the pain his inner conflict causes him.

“You don’t want a baby.” Enji repeats his words dumbly, as if saying them again will make them make sense. Your smile grows wider.

“But you do.” You take his hands in yours, squeezing gently. “Everything that I do is for you, isn't it? My life revolves around you.” He yanks his hands back as if he’s been burned. 

“Stop. Stop this.” You lean forward, until your noses are almost touching.

“Stop what, Enji? Stop trying to please you? Stop trying to mold myself into the perfect image of your wife? Stop fulfilling every foolish wish you made in bringing me here? Stop what?” He swallows hard, blue eyes wary.

“Y/n, stop this.” There’s a slight growl to his voice. You press on.

“You could stop this. Force me to swallow plan B. Take me to a clinic. Push me down a flight of stairs. Take a coat hanger and-”

“STOP!” His voice rings out, desperate and pained, and finally, you acquiesce, face grave and serious.

“I always wanted kids, you know. If you had just dated and married me properly I would have given them to you, happily.” Your eyes go fuzzy around the edges, gaze faraway and wistful. 

“I wanted a girl, first. A sweet daughter to spoil and coddle. And then another, so that they would always have a friend. I always switched back and forth on whether I wanted a third child. I think that if I were to have one, I would want a son.” Your eyes refocus, spearing Enji with a look far too knowing and cognizant. 

“You know, the youngest child always learns faster. They have their siblings to model after. How does that sound, Enji? A strong, talented, prodigy of a son. Finally a child worth neglecting the others for.” 

His face is tight with pain, and you tread carefully. Not because you’re afraid of what will happen should he shatter, but because you haven’t decided whether he would be more useful broken. You lay a delicate hand on your stomach, rubbing gently as if you can feel the baby kicking.

“Do you think that the daughters would come back and visit a father who was never there for them? Do you think that they would still see the man who cast them aside for their younger brother as a father? Would they call you daddy as they reach for your credit card? Or maybe they would call you father, in the same way you call a teacher sir. Maybe even Enji, if they’re feeling bold enough. Bastard when they’re talking about you to their friends.” 

Enji’s hands clench spasmodically, opening and closing like the fluttering wings of a dying bird. 

“Or maybe they don’t talk about you at all. Why spare any thought for a man who obviously never thought of them?” You lean back, satisfied at the complete and utter destruction written across his face. Enji may have taken you from your life to his own, but in doing so he gave you the keys to his emotional annihilation. You don’t think that he even knew that, not until this very moment.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want?” His words are broken and strangled, his head bowed. You regard him with a cool sort of disdain. 

“Where was this concern for my desires when you decided that I was going to be your wife?” He hands his head, unable to look you in the eyes. 

“Is this what this is? You’re getting back at me for bringing you home?” Though his words are muffled, there’s a slight edge to them. You bristle. 

“I may have some sort of feeling close to love for you, Enji, but know that it’s not by my own choice. It’s my brain literally trying to keep me alive.” He lifts his head, blue eyes blazing.

“I know you love me. You’ve said so yourself.” You scoff incredulously, almost choking on your own spit.

“You think saying something makes it true? Oh my god, I pity you, Enji Todoroki.” His fists clench once more, anger and humiliation boiling just under the calm facade that he forces onto his face. He says nothing, not that there’s anything to say. 

You let him stew in his own fury and shame for a minute or two before sighing and shifting in your chair, watching as his ire is slowly replaced with a look of deep, intense apathetic sadness. 

“I’m not actually pregnant.” The emotions that play across his face at that are instantaneous; first relief, then grief, then yearning, then resignation. 

“That’s probably for the best.” Enji sounds so, so tired. You’re sure you look just as much so. The food on your plate no longer looks appealing, and you push it away, going to pour yourself a cup of coffee. 

For a couple minutes there’s nothing but the sound of you sipping at your coffee and Enji finishing off his breakfast. It’s when he sets his chopsticks down that you finally break the silence. 

“Do you really think you love me? Like, when you say ‘I love you’ do you actually mean it?” Enji looks at a loss for words, and you tilt your head slightly to the side. “Do you even know what it means?” In what might be the most humbling act of his life, Enji slowly shakes his head. You sigh. 

The look of shock and mistrust on his face as you cross the table to straddle his lap and place your hands on his shoulders is almost amusing, but you force yourself to stay focused. 

“Enji, with the way our relationship is now, I can never love you. I may feel sexually attracted to and affection for you but love requires some level of respect and I don’t respect you because of what you’ve done to me and how you’ve handled it.” He opens his mouth, probably to protest, and you squeeze his shoulder to get him to shut it.

“Maybe you don’t need me to love you, and I get that. Companionship and sex aren’t poor substitutes for that. But when you have your kids and they ask why mommy never leaves the house and why you and mommy fight every night when you think they’re asleep, well, I expect that companionship and sex won’t fix that.” You slide off his lap, going to get yourself a mug of coffee.

“I’ll love my kids. But will they love you once they know what you’ve done? Because half of them will be from me and I know that I will never love you if you refuse to change this relationship you have with me.” 

Cream, a little bit of sugar, you stir your coffee before taking a sip and watching his face. The breakfast table isn’t really the ideal place to be having moral crises at, you know, but you don’t think that Enji’ll complain about it. You sit back down, not touching a bit of your food as you watch what could be spiteful silence or genuine consideration play across his face. 

It’s after the five minute mark that you consider speaking up, reminding him that though you’ve had plenty of chances to run recently you haven’t. Knowing Enji though, you think it’ll do more harm than good. It’s when your tense silence hits the ten minute mark that Enji looks up, jaw set mutinously. 

“We can go to the hardware store today.” He spits the words out like poison, but you smile anyways, a bright cheery thing that has Enji’s rock-like expression melting slightly. You swoop in for a short kiss before picking up your plate to put away for later, smile growing wider as you hear Enji huff and begin eating again. 

You know this isn’t a guaranteed road to freedom yet, but you like to think that you’re pretty similar to the innocuous looking mint plant in your garden. Enji’s just buried you in open ground. 

🌱

commission a fic here

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Sigh. It’s quiet today, so I guess it’s about time to talk about 12x06: Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox.  

This is an episode without Cas, so clearly it revolves entirely around Cas (I'm kidding, but only a little bit).  It’s also a bottle episode and a meta writer’s wet dream, so excuse me while I nerd out - this is a long one to unpack, and I have spent too much time doing it for you.  That’s ok because, as Sam says:

DIVE IN AFTER THE CUT BUDDIES!

The Asa montage is where we start.

Asa is a Dean mirror. The parallels are pretty clear - he’s a scruffy rough around the edges hunter, Mary is the reason he got into hunting, he wears a ton of flannel, etc.  If you remain unsure, the writers throw this in at the very beginning in the montage of Asa’s life as a hunter So That You Know:

Bucky: Hey, you know they make new cars, right? Asa: I don’t want a new car. This is my lucky car. 

***Canadian!Dean confirmed.

Shaine Jones may also be the Canadian Jensen Ackles.

I don’t make the rules ok?

Back in the US, the boys surprise Jody with a visit. 

In case you forgot the episode prior to this one:

Side note: domestic Jody gives me life. 

We’re clearly supposed to see how Jody is a mom figure for the boys, and it feels nice for them to have that, especially since Mary is Taking Some Space.  Their entire dynamic warms even my cold black soul.

[romantic scene of a couple silhouetted against a sunset while sweeping music plays on Jody’s TV. The couple kisses.] 

DEAN

[his mouth full of pizza] Jody, you watching some kind of chick flick here?

JODY

Well, Dean. I’m a chick. 

Kim Rhodes YOU ARE A DELIGHT.  A side note - I know this exchange is supposed to be funny, but I feel sad for Dean (who clearly is a rom com chick).  This is a perfect example of Dean struggling to present some fabricated image of heteronormative masculinity that’s not the heart of who he actually is.  His surprise that a “badass sheriff chick” can also enjoy rom coms makes me fucking upset.  

ALSO:

Anyway, Asa has passed on and the boys tag along with Jody to the wake in support.  

SAM

Yeah, no, Jody. We… we know you’ll be fine, but… you know, we never go to hunter gatherings, outside of bars. Dad always said they were trouble, so…

DEAN

Yes, you’d be doing us a favor if you let us tag along.

***more receipts that John Winchester was an isolating abuser.  They could have at least had a normal HUNTER life and friends who hunted.

SAM  

That is a big house. [Music continues playing, coming from inside the house now]

***We now establish one “theme” of the episode.

JODY

Family home. Asa was just a guy. 

AKA pretty brutal implication that Asa didn’t have a family of his own.

Speaking of implications:

[Jody removes her coat and the three of them begin mingling. Dean finds his way to the kitchen and a cooler full of beer] DEAN

No label. Well, that’s a red flag. 

****LOL WHAT THE FUCK IS THE REASON****

....

....

....

GIRL SEND HELP

Enter Bucky, who is actually (SPOILER!) the villain of the episode.

Do all hunters just walk around with this manly flannel/weird symbolic necklace combo?  Looking at you Bucky and Dean.  

Dean is surprised to find that people know who he is:

But doesn’t seem to have an issue with it until -

***Someone who just bragged the entire five hour car ride about killing Hitler shouldn’t be this concerned about what people are saying about him right? 

Or is he thinking it may involve something he isn’t comfortable sharing - since apparently there are things Dean doesn’t feel comfortable sharing as established by the prior couch conversation with Jody?  Hmmmmmm...

***Compare the expressions.  The “you’ve died four times” response is the same as the smug/proud “I killed Hitler” face.  The reaction to the “stories” is the “hey this is my personal business” reaction Dean had to Sam’s Japanese erotica art form comment. He is thinking specifically about something personal.

I wonder what it could be.

I don’t think any one had to teach Max Banes the art of seduction, but also thank you.

Also, manifesting Dean being raised by Max and Alicia’s Cool Witch Mom instead of John Trash Winchester.  Because that’s what we’re supposed to think here, correct?  Two sibling hunters usually present a brother mirror.

Worth noting Sam’s surprise that witches can also be hunters.  The John Winchester Bigotry Brain Rot runs deep.  (GOD the Sam-witch thing would have driven him crazy I LIVE FOR THAT).

Dean escapes to Asa’s office/room and proceeds to go through his things.

[Dean is in Asa’s office and finds an angel blade mounted on blue velvet inside an ornate glass-lidded box. He opens it, reaches in and pulls out the angel blade, comfortably spinning it in his hand when Sam walks in.]

SAM

Hey.

DEAN

Oh, hi. This is a real Angel Blade. I mean, this guy was legit. 

***that’s weird, why does Canadian!Dean have an angel blade?  We haven’t heard anything about angels yet, and it wasn’t in the opening montage.  Hmmmmmm, I say. Hmmmmmmm...

***Sam is also concerned about The Stories They Tell 

This one particularly:

Honestly I don’t know why he’s THAT surprised that people know he was possessed by Lucifer?  Didn’t he start like multiple apocalypses?  That’s something people tend to be in the know about. Anyhoo.

DEAN

Yeah. Apparently we’re a little bit legendary. 

SAM 

Yeah, but, I mean, so was Asa. Then a hunt went bad, and he ended up hanging from a tree, alone in the woods.

DEAN

He died on the job. No better way to go. 

SAM

You really believe that? 

DEAN

Yeah. What, you don’t? I mean, come on, Sam, it's not like we're in the “live till you're 90, die in your sleep” business. This? [Dean points at Asa’s hunting wall] This only ends one way. 

***Insert deep internal screaming about 15x20 here***

It’s Jody’s turn to be uncomfortable as we find out she and Asa were more than just friends and everyone knew it and Said Things About It and Told Stories About It.

HMMMMMMM...

Dean is surprised that Jody not only enjoys rom coms, but ruggedly hot men. Another thing they have in common.

As Dean comes to terms with the idea that Jody can be a mother figure and also a human person with a life and her own feelings and needs and thoughts, enter the person whom said lesson is actually about:

This is a Kim Rhodes Facial Expression stan account now.

So cute how Jody knows immediately that Dean is not okay.  Time to reach:

JODY

Huh. Is that why you spent the entire ride up here telling me in extreme, excruciating detail how you killed Hitler, but, uh, you neglected to mention the fact that your mom is back from the dead? 

***look, it’s another Dean doesn’t like others knowing personal information parallel!***

DEAN 

Yeah, no big deal. 

JODY

That’s a lie.

DEAN

JODY …

JODY

Look, maybe this isn't my place, and this is epic stuff, but

JODY

Yeah. Because what if I’ve changed. What if they changed? What if it just didn’t work out the way I wanted?  If you wanna talk about anything

***Killing Hitler used yet again to show Dean doesn’t care about oversharing hunting stories, but he doesn’t like for people to know personal ones.  Also, Jody mentions her son and her husband.  Her family and her romantic partner.  

Dean wasn’t just reunited with Mary this season. He was also reunited with Cas, after saying goodbye to him at the end of Season 11 when he headed to what he thought was going to be his death as the Amara-bomb.

So, this conversation isn't just about Mary (the “anything”).  It’s also about Cas (the”...absolutely anything”).

Mary chats with Mama Fox and more Points Are Made about hunters not getting to have a “normal life” or family:

MARY

I saved his life. 

LORRAINE

[scoffing] What am I supposed to say to that? After you, Asa got so… Hunting was his whole life. He never married. Never had a family, kids. And now… enjoy the wake. 

***sending Mary on a guilt spiral about Asa (mirroring her other guilt spiral about hunting as a life for her own sons)

Speaking of mirrors:

BUCKY

And Asa loved that Jeep. Fuses were shorted, fuel line was busted. Ah, he didn’t care. He’d just roll up his sleeves, he’d get right to work. 

Time to learn about today’s Big Bad.

BUCKY

Jael. He’s a crossroads demon. And he hangs people. It’s his thing. Snaps their neck, slits their throat. He’s a real piece of work. 

***Wait a second.  Jael is a demon?  Don’t...angel’s names usually end in “el” in SPNverse?

Samandriel.

Uriel.

Gabriel.

Raphael.

Gadreel.

Castiel.

HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.

Anyways the demon [questionable] killed Asa and now everyone  is trapped and also In Grave Danger.  

BUCKY

Exactly. Right, so five years later, Jael– he came back, and he came for Asa. 

JODY

How so? 

BUCKY

Asa was seeing this woman, right? She had a kid. 

LORRAINE

Marlene. 

BUCKY

Yeah, Marlene. Jael got into her. It didn’t matter that he was killing people, he wanted Asa to know it was personal. He gets off on it. 

***that’s so weird, didn’t someone else in the show start seeing a woman with a kid - 

what a sexy little coincidence.

oh and didnt  a supernatural being come back right around that time too - 

HMMMMMMMM.  No killing though.  That’s the difference between angels and demons, I guess.

(meanwhile Dean has been drinking alone outside - as he does, and is realizing he can’t get back in)

HI QUEEN

Also, this immediately took me to 

this show isn’t fair.

****sob break****

Jael Posession 1:

So curious how there are two siblings and then one gets possessed by something Satanic and the other one is good at seducing men.

SO FUCKING CURIOUS.

Jael Possession 2:

Elvis. Random.  Though he was the guy who brought up the Stories Sam Was Surprised Were Circulating -

He was also oddly interested in it.  Methinks Elvis thoroughly enjoyed the Jael possession.

Bilie gets Dean back in the house.  The words “one-time deal” are said a lot of times.

BONUS: Jensen why are you so pretty:

The hunters get to work, and I live for Max Bane’s pentagram aesthetic.

MAX

I like a Fifth Pentacle of Mars. It’s got more character. 

***TBH, same.

Jael possession 3:

****Kim Rhodes is even better when she is playing evil.

JODY/JAEL:

I had so hoped you’d kill your mom. Wouldn’t that be a riot? 

[Mary draws the angel blade and charges at Jody. She cuts Jody’s arm before Sam wrestles her away.] 

SAM

No! Mom!

MARY

What are you doing?! She’s a demon. We kill demons. 

******WOOF MARY - I REPEAT TO YOU THAT THE JOHN TRASH WINCHESTER BRAIN ROT RUNS DEEP.

Also did you immediately flash back to this with me?

Gets me thinking that Dean’s feelings for Cas are made twice as complicated by the fact that he is also a supernatural creature.  Another Reason Why John Winchester Would Disapprove.

****Just as he would Disapprove of Sam Being Possessed By the Devil and all that (never forget he told Dean to kill him because of the whole made unclean by demon blood thing). 

Right on cue:

JODY/JAEL

Oh, I have heard so many stories about you Winchesters. And I desperately want the Lucifer thing to be true.  

***Stories again. Jael proceeds to go into Stories That Are Dark Personal Shameful Secrets:

JAEL

As for the rest of you, I have been inside your heads. I know all about you. For example, the twins. Too frightened to tell anyone that they actually came to say goodbye to their daddy. Or the grieving mother who hated the fact that her son was a hunter so much she’d hide his gear, she’d sabotage his Jeep, anything to keep him from hunting. Not that it worked. Could’ve tried harder, huh? 

[She gestures at her own face] And this meatsuit you all seem to care so much about. She actually fantasized about a life with Asa. Can you believe that? Like that worthless man– 

***HMMMMMMMMM

[Bucky gets off the floor and sneaks up behind Jody/Jael] 

BUCKY 

Shut your filthy mouth. 

[Jody/Jael grabs Bucky by the neck and forces him to his knees] 

JODY/JAEL

And you. Bucky. Brave, brave Bucky. I was there that night. Tell these nice, stupid people what you did. Tell them what you took from me. Asa was mine. 

***Excuse me? THIS IS GETTING VERY...subtextual.  A dark timeline supernatural being/hunter relationship [ending badly because demons only know how to take, consume and possess]? ...Asael?  CURIOUS. 

They chant the exorcism, a different hunter doing each iteration (beautifully done) 

and send Jael back to hell, but not before Bucky shares his Shameful Story - he’s the one who killed Asa.

Elaboration:

BUCKY

Asa, he was just all– he was just always so stubborn. Look, we were in the woods. [We see the scene play out as Bucky describes it] Jael, he… he was taunting him. Asa wanted to chase him, but he didn’t have the angel blade. I said, “Let’s go back.” He called me a coward, and he shoved me, so I shoved him back, and he fell. He hit his head. Asa? I didn’t mean to do it. But it was a mistake. Asa. Asa? An accident. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. Asa hated that damn demon so much that I just…

DEAN

Oh, you thought people would buy that Jael killed him? So you hung your best friend to cover your own ass. 

BUCKY

What are you gonna do to me? 

ALICIA:

Tell everyone, every hunter we meet. They’re gonna know your name, Bucky. Know what you did. 

MAX

You like stories. This is the story everyone’s gonna tell about you. Forever. 

***Shameful Stories that Define You, what a theme.  Also, definitely a supernatural being potentially having some subtextual feelings for Canadian!Dean.  Hmmm.

***Funeral pyre and side discussion about how Asa did have a family, and children, and a potential supernatural sidepiece.

In conclusion, Supernatural is a love story.  Thank you for watching this dark timeline/Canadian dub.  You’re dismissed for the day.  Go eat bacon.

[omgrachwrites]

Still in Love with You - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Request:  ‘Heyya could I request a slytherin reader x sirius black where they get married after hogwarts but then the potters die and he goes away to azkaban and angst but then they reunite in an order meeting and fluff in the end? Sorry if this is to much lol. 💚’ @slytherpuffbitch​

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of death

Words: 1419

A/N: Thanks for the request love, I hope this is okay and I hope that everyone enjoys it! And I know that the order wasn’t formed again this soon but for the purpose of this story I’ve changed it up a bit! Hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think, also please let me know if you want to be added to my Marauders taglist, I love you all! xxx

The very best day of your life and the very worst day of your life occurred within a mere six months of each other. The best day of your life was when you and your soulmate were wed in that beautiful springtime garden, – neither of you wanted a church wedding – beneath the cherry blossom tree. Sirius had looked even more beautiful that day with sparkling grey eyes and the pink blossom petals that had fallen into his long ebony hair.

When his warm hand cupped your jaw and his lips met yours, you knew that this was it; you and Sirius would be together forever. Nothing and no one would ever come between you. If someone had told you when you first started at school that one day you would be married to Sirius Black and you were going to be friends with a load of Gryffindors you would have hexed them for merely mentioning it. But, here you were in front of all your friends, promising to love Sirius for the rest of your life and you couldn’t be happier. The wedding party was held beneath a marquee in a meadow full of flowers and it really was beautiful to be there with all your family, your friends and your godson Harry.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered in your ear that night as he held you beneath the velvet night sky that had been sprinkled with stars.

You smiled as you gazed up at him adoringly and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, “I love you too Sirius, did you ever think we’d be here?”

Sirius grinned as he rested his forehead against yours, “of course I did, from the minute I fell in love with you, I told James that you were the girl that I was going to marry. At first he wasn’t so keen because you were a Slytherin,” he joked, “but they love you, James and Lily, they really do and so do I.”

Six mere months later, the worst day of your life started with a blazing argument between you and your husband, and it finished with your best friends being murdered and the love of your life had been arrested for the crimes of mass murder and betrayal. Though the evidence was damning you refused to believe that Sirius murdered so many people and betrayed James and Lily. Something inside of you told you that he was innocent.

For the next couple of years you stayed in your job with the British Ministry of Magic but eventually you transferred to America. You had to get away from England and make a brand new start. Years passed by, years when you thought of nothing but Sirius and then that fateful day arrived when Sirius escaped from Azkaban. Hope and happiness bubbled in your chest; all you wanted to do was run home to your husband to show him that you still loved him. But you couldn’t go home, you were too scared, thirteen long years would have taken their toll and there was no way that Sirius was still the same person. You missed Remus but he came to visit you often.

Months later you received an owl from Remus, ‘Dear Y/N, Sirius is innocent – I’m sure you always believed that – it was Peter, Peter all along. He faked his death and betrayed James and Lily, and pinned it on Sirius. Join the Order and come home, we all miss you. Love, Remus.’

At first you were furious at Peter for ruining your marriage and a future with a man you loved more than anything. Then, the relief set in, here was confirmation that you had been right, Sirius was innocent. Tears pricked at your eyes as you clutched the letter to your heart and you hurried to reply to Remus.

‘Dear Remus, you’re right, I did know that he was innocent but it’s nice to have the confirmation. I’ll join the order, of course I will but I can’t come home, Remus you know I can’t. Love from Y/N.’

For a while you could serve the Order quite easily back in America, until today. Today you were going to be attending an Order meeting at Grimmauld Place and to say that you were nervous was an understatement. You smiled as you stepped out of the fireplace and into the kitchen, dusting yourself off.

“Good eve-“you trailed off when you locked eyes with Sirius and the breath was stolen from your throat and your heart began to ache.

He was still so handsome, how was that possible after all those years in Azkaban? His hair was a little longer and his cheekbones were more prominent. Those grey eyes that you loved so much were still so beautiful but they had a haunted look to them now and it broke your heart. His eyes should be so full of happiness. A look of surprise dawned on his face and you forced yourself to say something.

“Sirius,” you breathed.

He didn’t answer you; he just lifted a bottle to his lips as he looked away from you with a pained expression.

“Let’s get started shall we?” Remus spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

During the meeting, you hardly heard what Remus or McGonagall was saying, all your focus was on the beautiful man sitting opposite you, the man you still loved, you had to explain yourself. As soon as the meeting was over, Sirius left the room and your heart jumped into your throat as you ran after Sirius and into the hall.

“Sirius, please wait!”

He must have heard the desperation in your voice because he turned to look at you with a sigh and he gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Y/N, it’s good to see you.”

He was speaking to you so formally that it broke your heart, “I’m sorry that I didn’t come home before now, I just couldn’t,” you finished lamely as you fiddled with your wedding ring that you swore around your neck.

Sirius let out a humourless bark of laughter as his pained eyes looked at you, “why did you stay away? Did you think I was guilty?”

Tears sprang to your eyes as you heard the hurt in his voice, “no of course not,” you sniffled as your eyes found the floor. You felt gentle fingers against your jaw and Sirius tilted your face up so you could look at him, grey eyes sweeping over you in concern, “I was scared,” you whispered, finally admitting your truth, “I was terrified that you wouldn’t love me anymore.”

Sirius’ eyes softened, “oh sweetheart. I have loved you since 5th year, since the moment you told me off for interrupting your study session,” he chuckled, “I love you now like I loved you then, and in fact I love you more. The thought of you kept me going in Azkaban,” he shuddered, “I still love you. How could you think that I didn’t love you anymore?”

Your eyes widened at his confession, he still loved you? “The last conversation we had was an argument and then I lost you, I lost you without telling you that I loved you. I was scared that you’d be holding it against me.”

Sirius gave you a genuine smile as he cupped your cheek, “I can hardly remember what that argument was about. All that I know is that I still love you.”

You smiled as your thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, he looked older but in his eyes you could see the old Sirius begin to emerge, “I’m so sorry Sirius, for everything, for not believing in us, for James and Lily and for the fact that you were in that dreadful place for so long.”

Sirius grinned as he shook his head and he rested his forehead against yours, “we can talk about all that later,” he promised, “Y/N, do you still love me?” he asked almost shyly.

You gripped the front of his shirt, feeling the soft material between your fingers, you captured his lips with yours, his lips were different now, they were slightly chapped but they were still warm. Sirius smiled against your lips as he kissed you back, cupping your cheeks. After a few minutes you pulled away from each other slightly breathless.

“Yes, I still love you.”

Sirius beamed at you so beautifully that you could have cried, “we’ll be a family again Y/N, I promise. I love you so much.”

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

Marauders taglist: @slytherpuffbitch​ @kashishwrites​ @siriusblackspam​ @smiithys​

[randomideasmybrainhas]

Flying rocks and kisses

Trying to gain inspiration through power outages, and got prompted for a Suyin request, which I’m actually pretty excited about, gives me a bit of a challenge now. Since they didn’t choose which prompt, I’ll start with 3, and I’ll just play around with a few different people. While, I’m a le $ bean, I’m open to also writing for my boys- so you can request anyone, not just the lovely ladies of ALTA and LOK (but lets be real, they’re the important ones and deserve more love). Here goes nothing, let me know what you think, and hope you enjoy!!

Prompt #3: “Shit, watch out!” She screamed as a large boulder was flying at her crush at an extremely fast pace, fast enough all she could do was jump in front of it, and prepare for the sudden pain.

Word count: 2,973

Requestor: @Helplesslesbean

—-

Having grown up in the lovely city of Zafou for all my life, and following the guards around the city has made me grown accustomed to all the ins and outs of the city and especially the large mansion which resides my personal favorite human, Suyin Beifong. Granted yes, she is the same age as my parents, and I should definitely not be major crushing on her, but I mean… How can you not? Look at her, she’s the fiercest woman I know and would do anything for her family and she made this entire city from nothing, and she’s a Beifong! Her mother literally invented metal bending, which is our entire city. She also started a dance troupe and has worked countless of tiresome hours to perfect her dancers for their plays. I go to every performance and practice.

Speaking of the lovely, perfectionist of a woman, I sat outside helping Kuvira, Suyin’s adoptive daughter practice her dance routine since I’m always at the practices, Kuvira has me help her practice, because like mother, like daughter, she’s also a perfectionist. Something about being abandoned as a child… As we were going over how to jump from the bottom to the top to interlock her ankle with Lucy’s, Su walked up and instantly I started getting nervous, and Kuvira knows my little secret, but finds it weird and childish. Which is probably is, but I ignore her, and keep my little crush on the matriarch to myself. 

“Aww, wonderfully done Kuvira and (y/n)!! That was performed beautifully! I should create a routine without metal bending, so you can participate (y/n)! You’d be such a lovely dancer, might even steal the show!” Su exclaimed in joy while walking up to the two of us, with my pale complexion becoming as red at the Fire Nation. 

“It could’ve been better. Again.” Kuvira said while getting back to the starting position. I just sighed, we’ve been going at this all morning. Usually Su would come by earlier on to watch the practice, but with the Avatar being in town, she’s been preoccupied , which works out for you, since every time she watches you, you get nervous and mess up, and especially when Kuvira trains with you, that usually has you ending on your ass, with a lot of bruises. Kuvira isn’t easy-going, and will use your crush on Su to her full advantage. 

“Oh, Kuvira, you need to learn to take a break, it looks like (y/n) could use one, here have some water.” Su said while pushing Kuvira back down with a water bottle that she brought up. She then handed me one, and I quickly grabbed it, trying to ignore the slight spark of electricity that went off between our fingers when the brushed each other, and quickly downed half the bottle in one go. 

“Wow, you must be thirsty (y/n), I can get you another if you’d like.” Su said, which made you choke on the second half of the bottle, and had you sputtering out that you were okay. Kuvira just scoffed and pushed Su out of the way to go over the form again, she didn’t think it was strong enough. You got back up and started to practice again, ignoring Su’s lingering eyes on you. You kept up with the routine, and eventually Su had to attend to some other things around the city. 

—-

After you finished up, you got cleaned up and ready for bed.You were brushing your teeth when you heard a knock on the door. Confused because Kuvira has a strict sleep schedule that is not to be interupted, and that even means as soon as it’s after dinner, you never hear from her. You finished wiping your mouth and opened your door. Standing there was Su in her long, luxurious emerald green gown with her metal plates and you could smell her fresh perfume she always wore to bed and light green slippers. 

“Su? How can I help you?” You ask, while trying to keep your blush down, or at least not blistering red. You were also trying to ignore the fact that while normal people who don’t crush on others twice their age, they also don’t wear just a large t shirt to bed, with NOTHING underneath. 

“(Y/N), I just wanted to check in with you about a few things, do you mind if I come in?” Su asks. You let her in, but try to ignore that her perfume has you leaning in closer and wishing you could just curl up in bed with her forever. 

As Su walks in, she slightly brushes you with your arm, and the hair on your arm stands up as you clear your throat and close the door behind her. You follow Su into the room as she sits on your bed and you awkwardly stand there. You just look down at the floor, and wait for her to speak. She just sits there and stares at you, and you’re quite confused what she’s looking at, and why she isn’t talking yet. 

“Are you not going to sit?” Su asks. You shuffle and sit next to her, but trying to keep some space between you, for your benefit so you won’t do anything too stupid. This crossed Su’s mind, and she completely ignored it and scooted closer to you and rested her hands on your forearm and knee, which prompted you to swallow loudly, as you tried to ignore your pounding heart. 

“I’ve talked with Kuvira before, and she always says how great you are at talking things through, and I have some concerns.” She starts with, causing you to die a little inside, thinking she knows your little secret. “With my sister being here, and being so resentful against me and my family, I don’t know what to do or say, and my husband is well… we’re not how we used to be, and I feel like you’d have good insight.”

“Uhhh yeah. Um. You’re not?” I squeaked out, not really sure to answer that. She’s not how she used to be with her husband? But they always seemed to be the perfect duo. How is she not doing well with him? Are they splitting up? What happened? Okay (y/n), focus. She’s starting at you. I need to concentrate on what she’s saying. I hear her speaking, but nothing is coming to my ears, I’m just staring at her perfect lips, and wow. They’re so kissable. I wish I could, just…

“(Y/N) are you okay? You seem out of it. I knew this would be too much, just forget I said anything, and have yourself a goodnight.” Su rushed out as she got up to leave. I didn’t know what to do, because now she thinks it’s her fault. I did the only logical thing to do. I grabbed her retreating hand and yanked her back down to me and before she could question anything, I grabbed her face pulled it closer and slammed my lips on her lips. I instantly wrapped my hands into her hair pulling her closer and enjoying this moment. 

She was completely frozen. That’s when the panic started, and I soon realized this was not where she was going with this, and I’m an idiot. Just when I started to pull back, there was a loud bang that shook the mansion, cause me to fall to the floor and Su to stand up immediately. Horrible timing, but I could always just stare at her from this angle. Any angle to be honest. Thats when another loud bang shook the walls, and before I could get up, Su grabbed my hands to lift me up, surprisingly quickly and strong. 

“I need to investigate, stay here (y/n).” Su said eyes piercing through mine. 

“But I-“

“I mean it, don’t leave your room in any circumstance until I come get you.” Su said, then looked at my lips, gave me a quick peck on the cheek instead, and ran out of the room, metal bending the door behind her so I couldn’t get out. Damn metal benders. Though, joke is on her, because Kuvira used to lock me in my room all the time for dinner as a joke. I carved out some hollowed areas to crawl through that gives me outdoor access through the vents. Granted this was 10 years ago, when I was much smaller, but will have to do in a pinch. I wiggled through and I don’t know if its all the training I’ve done with Kuvira to stay toned and made this a piece of cake, or all the sweat I’ve gathered from thinking about the kiss I just shared with Su. Of course she didn’t want to kiss me, I’m her adoptive daughter’s friend, why would she me as anything else? Welp, time to move out I suppose. You know, Fire nation looks lovely this time of year. Another loud bang followed by shouting was heard, and I got back to focus and busted the vent and crawled out. 

When I got up, I see about 20 guards, Su and her twins, team avatar, and Lin. I can’t specifically spot out Kuvira, but I’m sure she’s somewhere amongst the guards. Who I can’t find oddly is the avatar. Isn’t this her thing? Investigation loud bangs? Then I spotted it. The giant metal plates in the center of.. lava? Well that’s new. Some buff, bald man had the knocked out avatar over his shoulder, and everyone was firing metal at him. But some of the guards were fighting a woman with water arms, and a guy who was lavabending?! Who are these people?! My training with Kuvira kicked in, and while I don’t have some super fancy bending like these people, or really any bending, I know how to throw a punch and dodge cheap shots that Kuvira loves to throw at me. 

I run into the action and I spot Kuvira bending her plates at the lady with water arms, but miserably failing. I run up to her and push her behind a pillar. 

“(Y/N)! You can’t be out here, these aren’t normal people. Go call back up!” Kuvira shouted while protecting you from an explosion near by. 

“Idiot, I’ve trained with you, I can help. But you’re such and earth bender. You’re only thinking within the box of fighting. These obviously aren’t normal people. You need to outsmart them, not out bend them.” You shout over all the commotion and duck your head into Kuvira’s arms while splinters of metal go flying a little too close to your face. Kuvira puts up a shield next to you to protect you, and you continue on you theory. “If you can distract the water bending with set up 12-4, then I jump off your back and go and electrocute her. Water hates electricity.” You shout over the loud bangs.

“That could work, but if you get injured, Su will kill me.” Kuvira shouts, while contemplating. 

“That’s okay, I think she already wants to kill me now. I kissed her earlier.” You shout/whisper to Kuvira. She just stares at you with large eyes, and punches your arm. You just shake your head and nod to her. Kuvira get the guards to line up in 12-4, a common move they do to surprise an attacker, with surrounding forces, and my added presence should hopefully hit it home. I waited for the right moment and then when I saw Kuvira was ready and water lady spun around I ran and jumped on Kuvira’s back and she launched me into the air, and thankful for all her dance routines, I flipped next to water arms lady and with the baton fully charged with electricity, I went to electrocute her to take her out, and it was going perfect, except we didn’t account for mr. lavabender to have heart eyes for her, and jump in, and shoot the ground from underneath me, and shoot me into the air, and given it was unpredicted, I was flying far, and crashed into Lin. And man, if I thought Su was strong, her older sister is earth itself, and pure muscle. I groaned from the not so soft landing. I think the ground would’ve been a better landing than Lin. 

“Watch it kid. This isn’t a circus.” She grunts roughly and tosses you aside. Ahh, so now you see the resentment Su was talking about from earlier. You roll off and sit up brushing the dirt off you. That didn’t go as planned. Before you could think of another suggestion, you looked up and saw Su fighting with her twins and you see combustion bender (how did I miss her earlier?!) Directly aim for a rock pile near by Su, to throw all of them at her at once, so she couldn’t dodge it, and before you knew what to do, your body was running full speed at Su, screaming, “Shit, watch out!” as a large boulder was flying at her crush at an extremely fast pace, fast enough all she could do was jump in front of it, and prepare for the sudden pain.

You know those moments when everything slows down, and you just embrace what is happening, but it gives you a chance to look around? This was one of those moments, and you thought you were toast. For sure, going to be flattened out into nothing. Though while you looked around, you see guards running all over, team avatar helping Lin get the avatar, and the twins under the protection of their mother, who is shielding her body to protect them, and staring at you. You feel the wind of the the boulder about to hit you, and you ready yourself for the impact…. That never comes? You look in front of you to see all the boulders that were flying towards you at full speed are now hitting the combustion lady and Lin escaped with the avatar. What really surprised you was the air being blasted from your hands. I’m an airbender????? 

Then the bald man took his staff and the other 3 talented benders into a gust of wind and they were gone. Okay, if I am an airbender, I need to learn that trick. You look back to see if Su is okay, but are instead greeted with arms instantly wrapping around you and the intoxicating smell of Su’s perfume and a bit of mix of burnt earth…You awkwardly return her hug and bury your face into her shoulder, even though she is about an inch or two shorter than I am. 

“You idiot, I told you to stay put! And why would you jump in front of those boulders? I’m an earth bender, I can handle it!” Su screams at you, and you wince.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t see you get hurt, and that was a lot. Even the best of us need help sometimes.” You say as you rub the back of your neck. She just shakes her head at you and brings you in closer. 

—-

After all the crazy moments and discovering the bald man named Zaheer, had all the airbenders, team avatar went after him, and though you wanted to join in on the fight, Su asked you to stay, and while you do love her, you aren’t sure if you can. 

She pulled you aside after the meeting into a small room that was almost never used. “(y/n), I can’t have you in danger again, especially now that you’re an airbender, you’re a bigger target for Zaheer. Please don’t go. I can’t have you getting hurt.” Su says quietly while holding your hand and searching your eyes. You really struggled, you wanted to say okay to make her feel better and happy, but you had to help. 

“Su, I-“

She stopped me by kissing me on the lips, and I think I just died… Is this the spirit world? Sparks shout out from my closed eyelids, and I pulled her in closer to my body as if this was a dream I was hoping to never awake from. Eventually we both pulled away for air, and searched each others eyes while resting our foreheads together. I eventually spoke up, “okay… I’ll stay back.” 

Su visibly sighed and relaxed against my body, and I held her tight and kissed the top of her forehead. I’m not comfortable with the idea of her going out alone, but I heard Kuvira can’t go, and someone needs to stay back to keep her from taking over the kingdom. 

—-

I hope you all enjoyed this, and sorry it went so long!! I just ramble a lot in my head, and it kinda comes out as word vomit, and this is what you get… Please leave a like and comment for support!! 

Also side side note: I know you choose #6, but I wanted to switch it up!!

[giorno-plays-piano]

The Spider's Bride Part 3

Pairing: spider!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, forced marriage.

Words: 2422.

Summary: Whoever your stepmother sold you to, he wasn’t as honorable as she claimed.

Part 1

Part 2

P.S. I just remembered I haven't explain arachnids' family ties yet - even though Bucky says he has "sisters", they are actually his cousins, daughters of his aunt. Since the ones of his kind had always lived in a very big families, cousins were considered "sisters" and "brothers" because of their closeness to each other.

_________________

You spent the next two weeks in your chamber again - apparently, Bucky's spells were truly very poweful as you slept the whole day after returning home from the nursery. He even had to have a check on you, but the healer assured him you'd be alright soon. Bucky had to be more careful from now on.

However, he was rather surprised you didn't cry after your awakening and said nothing to him about your visit to the town. Judging by the way you behaved, maybe you were not as shocked as Bucky expected you to be. He was so relieved.

Arabella was visiting often. She didn't enter your rooms as a precaution - she said it was too early for that - but stayed right behind the doors, either singing or talking to you. Despite being reluctant at first, as the days passed, you talked more and more about everything you wanted to know. A part of him was jealous. In the end, he could tell you of all the things you were curious about as well, but you refused to talk to him much. Arabella asked Bucky to be patient. In the end, it was him you considered her captor, not her.

The more time you spent with her, the calmer you seemed. You started eating better, sometimes even complimenting him for the food he brought you directly from the surface; the man heard less and less of your crying. Eventually, you even started to move within the house to borrow new books from the extensive library Bucky made exclusively for you. Of course, he still kept his human form whenever you were with him.

"Bucky, we discussed a few things this morning with Arabella." You said to him when you brought back empty dishes from your room and started washing them despite Bucky protesting it. "That potion I asked you to give me the first day when you brought me."

He stiffened at your words since he knew perfectly what potion you were talking about. What on Earth Arabella was thinking?

"She told me how your spells work and how humans can get addicted to that. I understand why you don't want to cast more charms on me." You rinsed the large silver dish and put it to the side to let it dry before storing them in the cardboard. "But she said that if you added a three drops of love potion to my drink in the morning, it may ease my worries."

"Dear Lord." He grunted, taking away your cup and clenching his teeth. Maybe his sister was an expert in potions she had been preparing for decades, yet he couldn't believe she offered you something like that right after telling him to not use magic.

"Please, Bucky. She said it's safe."

"Oh, and how would she know this? I don't remember her treating any human females for long."

Controling himself was rather complicated at this point, but he knew he was overreacting. Undoubtedly, his sister would do nothing to harm you in any way. He just didn't trust the methods he knew nothing about, and risking your health was out of question.

You sighed, taking the apron you stole from your betrothed off and folding it neatly. The more you stayed here, the more acceptable your life seemed to you, and sometimes you hated it with all your heart. Your bed was nice and warm; your food was always ready for you when you became hungry; your room was reserved purely for you, and no one could enter it without your permission; you had many gorgeous dresses your stepmother could never even dream about. Although the thought of Bucky in his true form still made you feel disgusted, you couldn't wish him to die anymore. More and more you thought someone like him didn't deserve it just because he was ugly. Regardless what your instincts were telling you, he treated you better than any human did, didn't he?

You had a better life down here since the times your mother left, and thinking of that hurt.

However, you did want to wipe off the memory of Bucky chasing you the day your stepmother brought you to the cave. Sometimes you saw his eight long dark legs in your nightmares. This was what you talked to Arabella today, voicing your concerns to help you do something with it. Maybe if you could erase this, your feelings towards the man you couldn't escape would change faster.

Arabella didn't agree to wiping off that picture out of your mind as the spell that she would need to cast was unpredictable at best and could take half of your memories. As you knew little about magic, she spent some time explaining to you how the charms worked and how they affected both arachnids and humans. Indulging yourself into taking too many soothing spells sounded like a bad idea now, and you understood Bucky's reluctance to cast them.

Nonetheless, she offered you a better way to ease your worries. Love potion didn't bring the ones of your kind any particular harm, though it wasn't powerful enough to keep you in love for a long time. However, a small dose of it could keep your worries away, the woman said. If you and Bucky agreed, she would ensure the potion to be made perfectly.

But he just had to be so goddamn stubborn! You learned that despite his scary appearance and the fact that he'd been through the war from its beginning to the very end Bucky was a hopeless romantic. He probably hoped the issue would be solved somehow purely by itself. As much as you would like it to be true, your mind refused believing that marrying an arachnid wasn't frightening.

"Listen, I know you care." You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, turning to him. "But I need help. I know soothing spells aren't safe, so we need something else. Please, let's try this out. If you see I don't react as I should, we'll stop right away. What harm could 3 drops of potion bring, anyway?

He groaned at your persistance, but you weren't giving up just yet. You spend half an hour talking to him purely about the potion and the possibilities it could bring you until the arachnid gave up, surprised you stayed with him for so long by our own will. More than that, Bucky was content with your desire to get rid of your fears and even change the way you thought of him. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe trying giving you a few drops of a potion would help.

When he let you drink water mixed with potion, he was afraid to see the immediate changes, but nothing happened. You stayed in your room, reading the new book Arabella brought you. Your cheeks weren't heated; you gaze was focused on the text; your relaxed body wasn't shaking. It seemed perfectly okay.

Tomorrow morning he gave you three more drops as his older sister had prescribed, and nothing had happened after that, too. Bucky wasn't even sure it made sense to keep giving you the potion, but you said you were feeling a little better, so he believed you. However, the third day you spent solely in the library, not even locking yourself in your room as usual. Apparently, Arabella's advice had been way more useful he had anticipated at first.

The forth day you suddenly asked him to show you his true form. You wanted to give it a try, you said. If you got scared, he could cast a soothing or sleeping speel anyway. Since you were persistent, Bucky eventually gave in, but it didn't end well - you vomited on your own shoes at the sight of his horrifying spider form.

The morning of the fifth day Bucky had fought his desire to pour the whole bottle of potion into your drink and finally see you smiling at him.

The seventh day was better since his sisters visited, taking human form. They brought you gifts - ivory hair comb and hand mirror, pearls and laces. Although you tried refusing their presents because you felt ashamed you could give them nothing in return, they laughed it off: while human traditions required the family of a bride to pay the dowry, arachnids' custom was quite the opposite. You thought the reason was the lack of females in their society, but Bucky's sisters assured you it had nothing to do with it. Actually, they had adopted this tradition from the dark elves who had been their mates from the ancient times. Arabella also told you while the kingdom you belonged to was patriarchal, theirs wasn't much so. She said that despite having seven children - quite a normal thing for a female arachnid - she wasn't the one who would always take care of them as her husband was equally resposible for the brood. He fed them, bathed them, taught them, and brought them to bed just like she did. It sounded almost insane to you.

Then you returned to talk about their marriage traditions, and sisters were excited to tell you how their husbands courted them before they gave their woves. Apparently, all of them except Bucky had been already married.

"You know, the good thing is the courtship period isn't restricted by any laws." Dahlia, the youngest one, said. "While it lasts, a suitor and his family should pamper future bride. When my daughter will grow up, her betrothed will bring her gifts, too."

You tried your best to think of them as humans. Then the talk of their families was much less scary to you as you imagined them wearing beautiful laced silver dresses on the day of their weddings just like women of your kind did. Did arachnids wear dresses at all, despite when they took human form? You doubted it. Their large spider bodies could only be covered with two dozen meters of fabric, and moving with those on top would be too complicated.

You sighed when the doors to your chamber were finally closed as Bucky's sisters left. The deep sense of guilt had long settled in your chest. All of them were kind to you. No one had ever forced you to scrub floors or cook before the sun rises to have the breakfast ready when everyone gonna wake up. You had forgotten how the broom felt in your work-weary hands. Even though you did nothing at all, you were fed, clothed and given whatever you asked for.

Why did it have to be like this? If Bucky had been cruel to you, it would be so much easier to hate him and wish him to die. But now you couldn't. He didn't deserve to be detested only because of his form.

Wiping your tears away, you returned to bed and wrapped your warm blanket under yourself.

____________

"You shouldn't creep on her all the time, brother." Dahlia shook her head disapprovingly. "You don't give her privacy."

"She doesn't know I'm watching her while she's alone." When he protested, Arabella shot him a serious glance.

"Your obsession with her will do neither of you any good. Remember, though humans are not as conscious as us, they can still feel the emotions of others. She'll get scared."

"She's already scared!" He barked at the woman, furious, his hands clenched. "I don't change my form even when I go to sleep. I've stayed like that for the whole week! And she's still frightened. She still doesn't let me touch her. Maybe she never will. The only time I get to see her happy is when she's reading in her chamber all by herself, and you're telling me I can't do even that?"

"Do you know uncle had always been watching your mother, Bucky?" His second oldest sister intervened with her quiet and calm voice, her gentle hand brushing against his tensed shoulder.

The man stilled, his angry expression turning terrified in a matter of seconds. No, he didn't know, or rather didn't think of it much. Although his mother died shortly after giving birth to him, the dark obsession of his father with her was... dreadful. Bucky had never thought his feelings towards you could remind him of that. How could it be? Wasn't he much more gentle? Kind? Human?

"Bucky, you're a good man." He heard Arabella whispering to him softly. "You're better than him, you had always been. But if it continues like that, it will get worse. I told you, give her time. Have patience. She has suffered no less than you did, and she can't help you heal if she hadn't recover herself."

"I want nothing but love her." He said in desperation, covering his face with his huge palms.

"Then trust her. Look, she got so much better she didn't even cry when we came. I know you want her to jump into your arms, but it just doesn't happen that way."

Miria patted his head gently and nodded, agreeing to her older sister. They had slowly regained their huge and shiny spider-like forms right in front of the house Bucky lived in, strangers walking the street nearby paying them no attention as it had been a common magic ritual.

"I have to remind you my husband had spent half a year courting me." The youngest sister said, trying to cheer him up. "And he belongs to the same kind as us. Didn't stop me from believing he would be a terrible husband, though."

Bucky forced a faint smile. It was true, and he remembered how desperate the guy had been when Dahlia refused walking with him in the forests again and again. But she wasn't scared of him; she didn't hate him because he had eight nasty long legs making a terrifying sound when he walked. It was different.

He felt tears gathering in his eyes and blinked, quickly gathering himself. Bucky wasn't pathetic to the point he could goddamn cry in front of his own sisters.

"Thank you for your advice. I will do whatever I can." His voice sounded tired when Arabella dropped a kiss on his cheek and motioned others to follow her to the street.

Soon he was standing outside all by himself, watching the lamppost's flickering light. The nights were growing colder, and he shivered, turning his back to the black gates and marching straight home. He didn't know by the time he entered the hallway you had already consumed one third of the bottle with a love potion Bucky stored in the kitchen.

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @navegandoaciegas @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @ladyacrasia @iheartsebastianstan @rosalynshields

[pineapple-lover-boy]

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

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

First part:

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

I imagine that they meet while doing normal errands

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

It’s been too traumatizing for her

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

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

He’s also got a lot of pride which can come off as confidence at first

What draws in Cho, though, is that he’s so muggle

Just by talking to him she can tell that he can’t be affiliated with the Wizarding World in any way (or at least she thinks)

Dudley by this point has changed since the books

Ever since the dementor attack he tries to be a better person so he never has people seeing him as what he saw that night

He’ll do little acts of kindness like buying some sweets for a child that couldn’t afford it, helping someone who’s fallen get up, and just genuine things that have Cho falling for him

Cho in no way endorses his eating habits but doesn’t discourage it

If they have a date where she’s the one cooking she’ll include many healthy foods cleverly hidden behind a tasty and appetizing look

Because of Cho’s past relationships I believe it would take a year for the relationship to at least be considered serious

Although she isn’t a blood supremacist, she still believes muggles are much more fragile than wizards

And in some ways they are

When Dudley comes back from a friendly boxing tournament she always fuses over his bruises and gets frantic when she sees some blood

Dudley never thought to ask why and Cho was glad for that, she wasn’t ready to tell

When meeting the parents…. oh boy

She appreciates how doting on Dudley they are and never gets tired of hearing his achievements that they are always boasting about

I do believe the Dursley’s are somewhat racist so they don’t warm up to Cho right away

But once they see her calm, polite, sweet, and generally well mannered nature they quickly decide that she is the best Dudley will ever get

Cho never suspects that Harry is related to them as there are no pictures around the house

Dudley will sometimes try to include mentions of a cousin in conversations of his childhood but Vernon and Petunia always brush him off by saying that his cousin was a “troubled boy”

Cho never questions this as she feels it must be a sensitive part of the family

By year two of their relationship they would be married

Dudley hasn’t learned of Cho’s magical nature yet

Much like any other half blood baring couple, Cho has to do magic in secret so her body doesn’t become overwhelmed with magic

It starts getting on her nerves as she’s afraid Dudley will walk in on her one day casting some type of spell or charm

She’ll start hinting at marriage but Dudley never gets it

She sometimes curses his pig headedness

She flat out asks him about it one day and Dudley is so surprised he starts choking on whatever pastry he was eating that day

No less than a week later are they engaged

Cho isn’t one for big crowds so Dudley agrees to have a small wedding with close relatives

He had been talking to Harry for a while but not enough to consider inviting him

He just felt too awkward

(When talking about it later though, Harry agreed and said it was fine)

After the wedding, their honeymoon was spent at their new home

It was then when he saw her PTSD nightmares

He held her close each night and asked if she wanted to talk

Each night she said no

It irritated Dudley to no end but he didn’t want to risk Cho feeling worse

Only a few months later was the announcement of their first daughter made

Cho had yet to tell Dudley that she was a witch and desperately hoped their child was a squib

She loved the Wizarding World but the trauma she got from seeing Cedric’s dead body and then seeing several children her age and even younger dying right in front of her-

It was too much for her to want to immediately go back to it

Once Daisy is born Cho regretted her hopes of the girl being a squib

She wanted to see her early forms of magic, her joy at being accepted to Hogwarts, she wanted her child to grow up a witch

Still, she didn’t tell Dudley

Although she loved him, she was afraid he wouldn’t accept her

When Daisy started showing signs of magic she tried to hide it as long as she could but Dudley eventually noticed

By this time baby Petunia was a toddler and although she showed no signs, it was bound to happen eventually

Without telling her, Dudley went and called his cousin, Harry

He told him of everything that was going on and Harry, whose children were only a year or two away from going to Hogwarts themselves, recognized what was going on and told he and his family to come over and visit so he could see it for himself

Not wanting to scare Cho, who he still thought was a muggle at this point, he told her that they were all going to take a trip to his cousins house

Cho knew something was up but she stayed quiet

During the car ride all she could muster up to say during her nervousness was a simple, “What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Harry.” He replied.

“I knew a Harry once.” She said quietly, not even realizing what she had spoken until it was too late.

There was too much tension in the car, so they stayed silent

When they pulled up to the house they could see dozens of children running around

“Thought he only had three.” Dudley lamented to himself.

When they got to the door, Ginny opened it

Her eyes widened immediately

“Cho Chang?” She said in disbelief.

“Come in, come in!” She shone her head and beckoned them inside, “Sorry for the mess. Harry and I are in charge of our nieces and nephews today.”

“Wait, are- are you saying we’re in Harry Potter’s house?”

Ginny laughed. “Who else would I have married? Besides we invited you to the wedding.”

Cho remembered, it was one year before she met Dudley

Dudley was beyond confused but when Harry walked in he was even more confused

Soon enough, everything settled down and was explained

Dudley was a bit irked that Cho had never told him of her magic ness but he wasn’t mad, much to Cho’s relief

It was then that he was told everything

When they were back at home, and the children were put to sleep, Cho told him everything

Of the Triwizard Tournament, of Cedric’s death, of all the deaths she’d witnessed during the Battle of Hogwarts

After years of holding in her years and trying to act like everything was fine, she finally started crying

She didn’t miss they crying from her Hogwarts days and she suddenly felt like that little girl who’s friends all walked away during her time of need

The girl who could barely focus on work to the point were she was let off for a few weeks

The girl who looked at the death of someone she loved too early

The next few days were hard on them

Whenever Cho apologized for crying out of nowhere Dudley would shut her down and said it was only natural

She’d bottled up so many feelings after the war in fear of people leaving her again

Now she felt like she didn’t have to worry

As the years go by, Daisy finally goes to Hogwarts and everyone is preparing for Petunia to be next

Cho is at home when she gets a call from Dudley

As much as he didn’t want to tell her this on a call, he couldn’t keep it in

“Cho, darling, I’m so sorry. I’m not completely sure of the word but Harry and I think that Petunia might be a squid- What? Oh! Sorry, a squib.”

Cho stops whatever she’s doing and feels her emotions take hold of her again

She remembered all those years ago when she wished her daughter to be a squib

That was for Daisy though

This couldn’t of happened because of her, right?

She becomes saddened at the sight of Petunia

For three years, she looks at her daughter with pity

She still as loving before, in fact even more

She wants to make her daughter feel as happy as she can before she realizes that she can’t be like her sister

When the letter is expected to arrive and it doesn’t, she’s fully prepared to coddle her crying child

But nothing changes

Petunia goes to muggle school, she keeps in touch with Daisy and Lily Luna, and is perfectly happy

She sighs in relief when she’s sure that it doesn’t affect Petunia in any way

Cho silently praises her daughter for being stronger than her

As more years go by and their girls grow up, the couple couldn’t be more than happier

Dudley loves when Cho does magic, staring at her in amazement despite living with magic when he was younger and having bad experiences with it

Cho loves how doting he is, whether it’s their children or her

There are some problems that they needed to fix but that doesn’t matter now as they grow old with each other

Such an unlikely couple that were surprisingly perfect for each other

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sunday 4 September 1836

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No kiss Damp rainy morning and F50° at 9 ¼ am at which hour breakfast - A- read 4 pp. of French and said her vocabulary - washed my inkstand - cut my nails - George asked me to give him - no! to sell him no! the 3rd black coat he has had since my father’s death on the 3rd of April - I have left him 2 complete suits and an extra pair of black cloth trousers! I told him it was not my intention to sell 2nd hand clothes, and came upstairs - I shall tell him again the sooner he gets off from here the better - he said he had no coat fit to wear - I said ‘then you must get a new one - but that is not my concern’ - his dress coat is very good - some minutes with A- wrote the above of today - heavy rainy now at 11 10 am A- and I read prayers to my aunt (in bed) Oddy Cookson, Rachel and George at 12 20 in about ½ hour or more - before and after from 1 20 wrote to M- 3 pp. and ends small and close - ‘Shibden Hall - Sunday 4 September 1836. I know not, my dearest Mary, whether you are intending to write to me (to answer my last string of questions) or whether you are expecting my writing to you, to thank you for your few voucher-lines of the identity of Rawlinson, received by him so long ago as the 19th ultimo - I would have written to you by him, on his return him, at that time; but, really, tho’ it seems ridiculous to say one has not time to scribble ½ dozen lines, such was the fact, as I strictly enjoined him to tell you - his history, that is, the sequel of your recommendation, you know - he arrived here this day-week, alone instead of coming a week later, and brining his family with him, as I expected, and as would have been more convenient - however, I told the man, he could have no comfort till his wife came; and, if my words are verified, it is his own look-out - He sleeps in the old saddle-room (about to be brew-house); and for the Carman’s wife cooks for him; but I am too much engaged to see, or think of him much, now that I do not immediately want him for jobs coming under my own eye; yet, as far as I can judge, he seems steady, and ordinary, and likely to suit us, on better acquaintance - I cannot fancy he will be without reason to thank you for having got him his place - I have had a correspondence with Mrs. Bull from the very day after writing to you last - she got us a cookhouse-keeper and housemaid, and her letter received on Tuesday last settled the matter about a footman, but informed me, also, of the appallingly sudden death of the housekeeper - I trust, however, that we shall be provided for, by and by - I have asked Mrs. Bull if she can send us ‘a good steady groom to take charge of 3 ponies, and 2 carriages, - who would come for a few months, if our arrangements for travelling on the continent should make it unnecessary to keep him longer’ - Do pray, my dearest Mary,  tell me your custom about liveries - As soon as you letter comes, I will write again to Mrs. Bull, explaining more particularly - at present, the thing stands thus - cookhousekeeper £30 housemaid ten guineas - footman £20, and liveries as customary - washing is, of course, included in the twenty pounds; and tea and sugar must be given or allowed for after the rate of...... (I can turn to your most useful letter on this latter head) - I should suppose the housekeeper will have nous enough to manage nicely, but I would rather that we ourselves 1st leant thro’ you what is proper - whenever I have more leisure I will tell you as much as you like about our going on - For our present équipage, we think of having (according to your recommendation) a cookhousekeeper, kitchen maid, and one housemaid - then shall we, or shall we not, raise the 1st of these a little, and let her sit with our own and my aunt’s maid in the housekeeper’s room, and leave the housemaid and kitchen maid tête-à-tête in the kitchen? the footman,

SH:7/ML/E/19/0102

and groom, and John Booth (whose places are the cowhouse, pigsty, poultry yard, stable if wanted, garden  if wanted to help occasionally) have the servants hall - it is talked of our washing once a fortnight - who is to turn the washing machine, and mangle? we shall have cellaring to allow of brewing only once in 2 months - who should brew? as we have only one man in the house, had John Booth best brew, or, at least, wash barrels and bottles? Matty Pollard and her husband go to the Lodge, which leaves the Conery for the gardener till something better is provided - the Carman will be at Mytholm - we shall have the new servants on the 13th if we can be ready by that time - when, or if ever we shall have new kitchens, je n’en sais trop - but the present offices will be very tolerable - the kitchen-door and court are turned to the east, and are thus easily come at by all kitchen people and concerns - the servants hall (quondam backroom, and full of sticks) opens into the court (by a door opposite the kitchen door turned to the east) and into the house by a passage from the upper kitchen - the housekeepers room (parlour where Watson used to sit) opens into a little bedroom (quondam the coach house) where the housekeeper is to sleep - the maids sleep over the housekeepers’ room - and the green room where Watson used to sleep, and where I hope she will sleep again, is made rather neater, and now occupied by Cookson (she came from Mrs. Worsley of Hovingham and was mentioned by Mr. Parsons junior with whom she learnt hair dressing) - Cookson on any occasion can sleep with the housekeeper, or in a little room elsewhere, or over the kitchen - In short, I think we shall have room enough to make ourselves very fairly comfortable - Do tell me, how do you bake your bread? in a brick oven? I have a great fancy for one if it can be managed safely - I only hope we shall have done with workmen in the house before we leave home - nothing as to travelling plans, is more settled than when I wrote last - my aunt is more poorly again - but not at all alarmingly so - she desires me to give her love - I am really ashamed to ask you so many questions (knowing that you are little less busy than I myself am) but if you can, without great sacrifice of time, give us on account of your school, and clothing club, and Friendly society, you would very much oblige us - have you not a printed form of Friendly society rules? and have you not a printed list of clothing prices? How do you pay your scholars for the work they do? It seems odd to ask you all this, while the person from whom you yourself asked it is still living at Lightcliffe -the truth is, there is no longer any intercourse between the parties, but the story is too long and unimportant to tell, or attempt to tell on paper - Put off, if it seems safe to do your visit to York till near Xmas, and then, if you should pass this way, I trust you will find that there may always be some comfort in seeing an old friend - I hope you have good accounts from the minster court - the thought of your mother brings to mind my aunt - Perhaps this winter may make great changes - write to me soon, and be confident always of the very sincere and affectionate regard of your faithful and especial friend AL’ - we may we not put 2 or 3 menservants beds (2 in a bed) in one room if the space will allow?  is the cookhousekeeper to have kitchen perquisites? Is she to have the key of the store-room? is she or the footman to look to the fastening of the doors at night? may we not put 2 or 3 menservants beds (2 in a bed) into one room if the space will allow? - at church at 3 - took Cookson with us inside and Sarah outside with George in consequence of the rain - Mr. Wilkinson did all the duty - in the middle of the psalm on our going into church - preached 25 minutes from John xvii. 15 - 50 minutes at Cliff Hill Mrs. AW in spirits and humour and glad to see us - a few minutes at the school in returning to leave 2 parcels - home at 5 50 - copied my letter to M- till dinner at 7 10 - coffee upstairs and A- read several pages of French - ¼ hour with my aunt till 10 5 pm Rainy day and heavy rain at 11 10 am and as we returned from the school and at 7 pm F55° now at 10 ¼ pm - sent off tonight my letter to ‘Mrs. Lawton, Lawton Hall, Lawton Cheshire’

[wordynerdygurl]

Skin Deep ~ Part 1

Author’s Note:  Hello, hello, hello!  I hope everyone’s staying healthy and Six Feet Away from everyone else!  Remember, kiddies, wearing a mask keeps all of us safe! With that out of the way, I hope you all like this new series!  The idea has been percolating for awhile and I’m happy to share part one with you here.  As you all know, I typically write for Loki and while he will be making a major appearance in this ditty, it won’t be until Part 2.  Come along for the ride, won’t you?? You know that I love all of you, all the likes, comments, reblogs, and consideration... so thank you all so much! Asks are open, so message me if you have an idea!  Or, asked to be tagged in future stories! Always, thanks to @sammy-jo1977, beta reader and friend, for encouraging me during this one!

Pairing:  Loki X Reader, Steve Rogers X Reader, Natasha & Reader friendship Summary:  Loki’s leaving two years ago changed you in ways that Natasha and Steve can’t abide.  Encouraged to find love again, in the arms of Steve Rogers, seems like a great idea.  But what happens when Loki comes to claim what he’s promised? Warnings:  Angst, Lost Love, Eventual SMUT

Part 1

Plopping down to the planed floor with a soft “Ooph”, you immediately reached for your water bottle.  Oh sweet, icy cold condensation rolling off, taunting you with the allure of complete hydration.  With a swipe of your sweat covered brow, you flipped open the cap, panting, “Why do we do this?”

“Because we ate all of Tony’s gourmet donuts.”

“That was weeks ago… and all your fault, I might add!”  

Natasha eased herself down to your level, not looking as winded or wiped as you did, “God, they were delicious.”

“He special orders those, ya know?  Calls the bakery weeks ahead to make sure they bring enough of those… what are they?  Eclairs?” “Cream horns.  Loves those things.”  Natasha, grunting, as she pulled her ballet slipper free. Turning to your friend, laughing tiredly, “So do I!”  Resting your head on the wall behind you, “Thanks for coming with me.  I know you get your workouts in with the team, but I just can’t imagine running around in that gym…”, you trailed off, unsaid words hanging in the air.

Natasha didn’t respond beyond a nod, adding, “It’s fun!  And I don’t have to hear Steve’s whining over you the whole time.” “As if, Nat.” “I’m serious.”  Natasha stretched like a cat before rising, “He likes you almost as much as you like Tony’s donuts.”  Chuckling, you took the hand she offered, pulling you up to standing.  You moved through the locker room, still out of breath, trailing Natasha until she stopped in front of units 14 and 16.  Throwing you a towel, drying her own dampened skin, “Donuts aren’t Loki.  You know that right?” Snorting around the bottle at your lips, sputtering, “Jesus, Nat!  Yes.  Yes.  I am very well aware of the fact that Loki is not donuts… or donuts are not him.  Or whatever the hell you are trying to say to me.  I know, Ok?” “It’s just…”  She busied herself digging through her bag, not looking at you, trying to keep her voice light. Edged with unspent anger, gruffer than you liked to hear yourself, “Yea?” “You’re... snippy.  How long has it been now?”  Tossing the question over her shoulder casually like it was no more than her sweat soaked towel. Standing now on overworked legs, “You know how long it’s been Nat.”  Pulling your locker open with a jerk, a hard sigh ripping from your throat, the flash of hurt undeniable. Shutting her own firmly, “... when do you move on, then?” “When?  Better question:  How?  How do I?  He asked me to wait, Natasha.  I told him I would.” “It’s been two years.” “One year, ten months, three weeks and 5 days.”  Correcting your friend didn’t make you feel better.  Leveling you with her cool stare, that secretive partial smile pulling at her lips, Natasha lowered herself onto the bench.  Your back rested against the cool mesh metal and damn it if the liquid heat of tears weren’t forming in your eyes.  Slinking over to you, Natasha wrapped her arms around your shoulders, her diminutive strength holding you close despite your clammy skin.  “You deserve happiness.  Even Loki would understand that.”  Pausing, Natasha zipped up her bag, nudging you to follow.  “Besides, you need to get laid.” Snatching up your own gym gear, “Nat!  I do not.”  Grumbling, you followed her towards the locker room doors, zipping up your hoodie before pushing out into the street. “Trust me.  You do.” Stopping at the corner, you grabbed your friend’s hand.  “He’s a God.  It’s not that easy to just replace him… in my life.  Or… in the bedroom, ya know?” Holding up two fingers, like a VE day salute, Natasha wiggled them in your face.  Her meaning was clear.  It had been two years.  Too damn long. “Ok.  Ok.  Fine.  Let’s say, you’re right.  I do need to move on.  What does that even look like?”  Stepping through the Tower’s automatic doors, whispering your fear out loud made you feel guilty, as if you had already betrayed your promise somehow.  Punching in the passcode and selecting your floor number from the elevator, Natasha focused straight ahead, answering, “You’re surrounded by super heroes.” “So?  They’re co-workers.  Well, technically, they’re my boss’ husband’s co-workers.” “Come on.  When Loki was… around, you all hung out together.  And, since he’s been gone, I know at least one of them has been keeping a close eye on you.” Interest piqued, “Really?  Who?” Chuckling at your eagerness, “Steve.” “Oh.”  You flexed your neck, looking at the lights above you, not entirely surprised by Nat’s admission.  He might have thought his actions were stealthy, but the Captain had made his interest pretty clear, always pulling out your chair, asking about your day, and in general showing up wherever you happened to be. “You should give him a chance.   And you know as well as I do-”

Cut off by the ping of the opening doors, she took a step back, letting Steve Rogers into the lift.  “Ladies.” “Captain.”  Nat nodded. “Captain Rogers.”  Everything Natasha has been saying flooded your mind.  How Steve was into you, asking about you, thinking of you. Suddenly you were acutely aware of how you looked.  Short hair tucked into a cloth headband, sweat soaked strands stuck to your neck.  Your sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, the thick strap of your sports bra exposed in all it’s fluorescent green glory.  Did you smell?  Oh god.  Sliding to the back of the car, you cowered, hoping that Captain America would ignore you completely.  No dice.  “How was the class?” “Good.  This one-” pointing at you, Natasha continued, “-is quite the leaper!” Hot blood flooded your face, painting your neck, as you flushed under the praise.  Facing you now, Steve licked over his bottom lip, “Is that so?” Had you ever noticed just how sharp his jaw actually was?  Or the way his shirt sleeves, rolled up to the elbows, made his arms look so strong?  Your heart thudded dully in your ears, crowding out Steve’s voice as you imagined, just for a second, being alone with him in the lift. “What?”  Asking dully, stunned by the force of your long ignored need, you hadn’t heard his follow up question. Lowering his head, softly chuckling, “I asked if you two were having lunch?  Could I join you?” “I’m in a meeting… Fury is in town.”  Rolling her eyes, Natasha stepped out on her floor, “See you later!”  You just knew she was going to grill about all this at some point, but now you were trapped in a metal box with one of those sexy superheroes she’d told you to move on with. Doors closing with a metallic hiss, Steve smiled at you sweetly, “About lunch?” “Um… well, I’d need to shower.  Change…”  Talking with your hands, betraying your nervous energy, you struggled with an excuse as to why you couldn’t join with the Captain. “I can wait.  Want to meet up on the patio… say, forty five minutes?” Looking so hope filled, you found yourself smiling broadly at the blonde Adonis, now holding open the doors, waiting for your reply.  “Sure.  Forty five minutes.”

It took an hour.  You hadn’t meant to, but by the time you’d cleaned up, thrown on a skirt and tucked in your tee shirt, slapped on a bit of mascara and tied your sneakers, it had been sixty minutes.  Even though you were jumpy and jittery, since Loki left, this was the closest thing to a date you’d been on. Stepping out onto the patio, squinting into the noonday sun, you spotted the golden boy easy enough.  Sitting comfortably, a brown paper bag on the table, Steve looked completely at ease waiting for your grand entrance.  Shifting, he glanced your way, freezing at the sight of you. Gaining his feet slowly, Steve watched your approach, “Hi…” There was a tone of appreciation in his voice that made your skin tingle.   “Hello, Captain.”  God, even the sound of your voice was sexy.  Steve found himself stuttering, flustered, by the overwhelming sweetness of you.  Clapping his hands against his leg, “Um… please, call me Steve, ok?”  “Yes, ok.  Steve.”  A long minute passed where you looked at Steve and he looked back at you.  He was just so glad to have you all to himself, uninterrupted, that looking at you took his breath away.  It also erased his manners for a heartbeat, “Please, sit down.  I, uh… I had some sandwiches made.” Tucking a lock of short hair behind your ear, you grinned, “Is this… is this a picnic?  For me?” Squinting a bit, shrugging his shoulders with a laugh, “Maybe?” “Maybe is ok with me.”  Reflecting that tentative tone, part curious, part cautious, you reached for the bag.  “I’m starving!” Sipping from your glass bottle Coke, you looked over the Avenger before you.  So wholesome, so clean cut.  Nothing like the dark and devious God of Mischief who’d stolen your heart and then abandoned it so long ago. Munching on your sandwiches, delicious and fresh, your nervousness ebbed away.  Basic first date stuff flowed between the pair of you, movies you loved and why, favorite colors and school subjects.  Hobbies came next, and you found yourself surprised when Steve shyly admitted, “Drawing.  I love to draw.  Before I was… um… when I was just Steve, I could sketch myself into another world.  It was freeing.” “That’s how I feel about music.”  Talking to Steve felt nice.  And you knew that was a cliche adjective, but nice was so easy.  It’s how you found yourself talking about your first live concert, Heart, when you were eight and how it made you love rock music as a kid.  “Heart… sounds familiar.”  He was cute as mused over the placing the name, wiping the Dorito dust off his fingers. Excitedly you recited songs that meant so much to you, “Barracuda?  Magic Man?” “Magic Man… I think I know that one.” Unable to stop yourself, singing into the now drained Coke bottle turned microphone, “Try to understand, try, try, try to understand!  He’s a Magic Man, mama… He’s got magic hands!” Clapping at your performance, Steve smiled at you, warm and even.  “Magic Men?  Magic hands, huh?” And suddenly, Loki was there, front and center in your thoughts.  The scent of worn leather and dark liquor filled your nose, phantoms from memory, come to torment you.  An image of Loki and those wickedly smart hands, coaxing you onto your back as his silver tongue devoured your sopping center already overdue for his attention, was as real now as when you had lived it.  He had magic hands.  He’d proven that to you over and over again.  Tears rose to your eyes, clouding your vision, as everything that was sweet about the afternoon turned sour.  “Um… I’m sorry Steve.  I need to… uh… I have to go.”  Stumbling to your sneakered feet, you quickly cleared the table, unable to look at the super soldier as you made a fast escape. “I lost someone I loved too.”  His words made you stop in your tracks, his tone darker than you’d ever hear before.  In four long strides, Steve caught up with you, just as your hand gripped the door’s handle.  

Unable to turn, afraid to face him, sobbing softly, “I know Steve… but this is different.” “Yea… I know.  I know it is.”  Hearing his voice, just as raw, just as ragged as your own, made it easier to give in.  Putting the door to your back, looking at Steve through wet lashes, frustration in his baritone, “I just… damn.”  

Lifting his blue eyes to yours, begging for the words that would somehow make all of this normal, “Would you ever… could you ever…?” Your mouth started moving, swayed by the earnestness of his sentiment, “Maybe.  It’s the best I can do, Steve.” “Maybe is ok with me.” 

Wavering now, your smile faltering as tears threaten to fall, “Thanks.” If he answered, you didn’t hear it.  Rushing inside with a fist in your mouth, hoping to block the lovesick cry that ripped from you, practically running down the hallway to your place.  Not wanting anyone to see you so broken, so torn, after all this time, you needed to escape. Safely in your apartment, all alone, collapsing on the bed, you couldn’t stop your mind from replaying the afternoon.  From the gentle banter and kind hearted ‘get to know you’ vibes of your lunch with Steve, when you had opened up to the idea of a new love, a new start.  To how easy it was to let Loki creep into your thoughts, a riptide pulling you back into the shadows of your feelings for his dark desire.  Guilty bile burned your throat at the idea that you might be betraying your absent love… letting him down, somehow. Hitting the pillow behind you, weeping openly now, you thought about the last time Loki had come to you.  His words, his actions, all showing a deep affection for you.  Even if Loki had never said the actual word, he had shown you time and again that he did truly love you. “Pet.  We must speak.” Sex drunk and sapped, you curled over the lithe chested God in your bed, “Sounds serious…” Sitting up, Loki forced you to move, his profile sharp in the dim light of early dawn.  “I’ve been called to Jotunheim.” Leaning back on your elbows, “Ok… Jotunheim.  Why?” His broad back to you, Loki’s head dipped forward, resting on his folded legs.  “I… I am the rightful heir to their throne.  They need a ruler and-” turning to face you, “-it is me.  There is talk of war.  If there’s any chance to avoid it, I must be there.  I have to go.” Leaning your cheek into his shoulder, you sighed, “You have to go.  I understand that.” “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” Nosing under his arm, smooshing against Loki’s ribs, “Hmm… you’ve been away before.  I always manage, somehow… and...” Looking down at you through his dusky lashes, a secretive smile on those tasty lips, “And?” “You always come back to me.” “I do… I have.  Will you…”  Pausing, Loki twined his fingers with yours, testing the weight of your hand, “That is… wait for me?” Pressing a small kiss to his sweet mouth, “Always, babe.  I’ll be right here.”

“Promise me.  Promise that you’ll wait for me.”  Panic flashed over him, causing Loki to tug you closer, crushing you against his chest, his mouth conquering yours thoroughly. “I promise, Loki.  Promise me that you’ll be careful.”  Solemnly nodding, “Yes.  I promise, pet.” Satisfied, smoothing his hair off his forehead, “I love you.  You know that.” Soothing the shaken prince, your words calmed him and Loki found a fragile peace in the parting of your lips.  Lowering you against the cotton sheets, taking what was promised to him once more, Loki lingered over your tender body, committing every dip and dimple to memory.  Your arms clung to his, hooked under his bulging biceps, fingers wrapping over the back of his shoulders. There was only you and Loki in the deepening dark of dawn.  His slow and steady rhythm forcing your knees to the side, opened wide for him.  Your body, always eager, now overflowing with want, welcomed Loki again and again.  How softly he hummed, “Pet… my pet… wait for me.  Wait for me.” And your own responsive reply, “Yes, Loki.  Yes.  Always.” Teeth nipped at your neck, biting hard, marking you.  In that shared moment of giving and receiving of pain, your body surrendered to Loki’s masculine invasion, even as you conquered his desire.  Shivering in his arms, sleep pulling you away from your lover, “Loki… I’ll wait forever.” When you woke up, still dressed from your lunch date with Steve, your pillow was soaked through.  You hadn’t cried over Loki in months, let alone in your sleep.  Talking it over with Natasha later you whispered, “It was like I relived our last night together.  I could feel him, Nat.  Smell him.  Loki was there.” “No.  He hasn’t been on Earth in two years.”  Shaking her head in disbelief at your close to insane theory, Natasha was quick to correct you. “Well, it felt real.  And you know why this happened?” “If you’re going to say it’s because of Steve, don’t.” Ignoring Natasha, whispering conspiratorially, lest your imagined Loki overhear you, “It’s because of Steve.  Somehow, Loki knows.” “We don’t even know if Loki is alive.  So, him knowing that you’ve gone on one… almost date with Steve, that’s just…”  Words escaped her, but a hand gesture that questioned your mental status finished her thought. Sitting back in your chair, eyeing your friend cooly, “It’s not crazy, Nat.  And neither am I.” “I didn’t say you were.” “You implied it.”  Mimicking her hand motion, miffed, you started typing on your phone.  Why couldn’t she get it?  Loki wasn’t like Steve.  He wasn’t like any other man.  Loki knew things, felt things, even across space and time. 

After multiple failed attempts to engage you, all met with your stony silence, “I’m sorry, ok.  I just… I just really don’t believe that Loki is haunting you from outer space.”  Snapping open her iced tea Natasha took a long sip, “Besides, I want to know what happened with Steve.” Still concentrating on your phone, “It was fine.” “Fine?  That’s it?  You were on the patio for a long time.”  She was teasing you now, but damn it, Natasha didn’t have to be so dismissive.  “So?  It was nice.”  Eyes still locked on your device, you knew it was killing her, but you wanted Natasha to validate your Loki theory before you gave her any details about your date. Sighing, Natasha picked at her salad greens, “Ok.  Ok.  Loki is watching you from afar and he’s probably ghosting you, so you have every right to be worried.” Beaming widely, having won the battle of wills, “Thank you!” “Now, please, please, will you tell me about you and Steve?” Shifting in your seat, “He was sweet.  It was all going well… until…” “Until?” “Until... Loki.” you shrugged. “Ugh."  Sighing with unchecked disgust, Natasha tossed her fork down, fixing you with a hard stare. “It… it’s hard ok?  I mean, I’m trying to be… open to Steve, to the idea of Steve.  And, he really is so kind.”  You couldn’t help blushing just a bit.  He had been so awfully understanding, so real in a way that Loki had never been, that you felt a bit bad about bailing on him. Listening, Natasha could see that you were working on opening up to the super soldier, so she let you off the hook saying, “I know… I know.  I’m just really pulling for you two!” Placing your hand over hers, you squeezed, “I know you are.  I just… I’m not sure that I’m ready.” Natasha's face softened and she bobbed her head.  Munching on her veggies, “Listen.  At some point you have to get back to being yourself.  I miss you.  The old you.  We all do.” This was news to you.  “You all miss the old me?  I haven’t changed.” “But you have.  Look at you.  Today you’re wearing grey.  Yesterday, grey.  The day before, black.” Pulling at your simple, comfortable, sweater, “Your point?” “You had pink hair when I met you.  Remember?”  Folding her arms on the table, leaning into you, Natasha was begging for you to challenge her assessment. Of course you remembered.  You had dyed it yourself, but that was a different time, a different you.  Coolly answering, “Well, I wasn’t Pepper’s PA then, was I?” “No… but you were still working here.  Tony hired you for your ballsy attitude.  Truthfully, I think that’s why Loki fell so hard for you too.”  Stopping to gauge your reaction, Natasha smiled tightly, “You were so…” “Full of life.”  Rich and warm, you recognized his voice without turning around.  Steve swung into the free chair at your table, interrupting your conversation, gaze pointed your way. “Exactly!”  Agreeing, Natasha clapped the super soldier on the back before refocusing her attention on you. “Wow.”  The recently quelled anger crept back into your tone as you sassed, “Well, I guess I didn’t realize that I had become a shadow of my former self.  Excuse me, Captain.  Natasha.  Wouldn't want to bum you out.”  Unable to hide the hurt in your voice, you rose smoothly, swiftly breaking for the exit. “Wait!  Will you please, just hold up a minute.”  Barely jogging to your side, Steve caught up with you a little too quickly for your liking. Still raw, you bit into your bottom lip, glaring at him defiantly, “Yes Captain.” “Don’t do that, doll.  Please?” “I’m not your doll.” but you did stop, turning on him, an angry glare in your clear eyes. “Fine.  You’re not.  I just thought…”  trailing off, Steve, always unable to say exactly what you needed to hear went silent now. “You thought?  What?  That all of the sudden you and Nat would convince me that I don’t love Loki?  That I’m a fool for waiting for him?  That he’s clearly not coming back?  What exactly were you thinking Steve?” fury spun out from you like smokey swirls, threatening to burn the boy down. Steve kept his cool even though you saw his jaw tighten, “No.  Not that.  I thought… I thought, maybe…”  Running a rough hand through his blonde hair, “I thought I had a chance.” “I told you maybe, Steve.  Maybe.  Maybe I could…”  Dropping your hands in defeat, damp eyes pleading with him silently, “There’s more to this story than you know.” “That might be true.  Maybe there is some element here that I’m missing.  But I know this,” closing in on you, your rump bumping into the wall behind you, “If you were mine, I would never leave you.” Impossibly near, you could smell the minty holdover of toothpaste on his breath, the clinging scent of his aftershave overwhelming your senses.  Watching, waiting, Steve cupped your cheek.  His touch was so soft you thought you might have imagined it.  Tracing your jaw, Steve’s caress continued, those smart fingers tilting your chin up.  Parting your lips, your feet moved independently of your head and heart, bringing you closer to the heat of his chest.  You didn’t want to want Steve.  You weren’t ready to let go of Loki, even after all this time… and yet… Steve was here.  With a wide, hot hand wrapping around your waist, drawing your hips snugly against his own.  Closing your eyes, feeling your way over flexing arms, you settled your flying fingers on around his ribs.  Always a man of action, dipping his full mouth yours, Steve’s kiss was spun sugar light.  Offering sweetness and sunshine, you rose up on your toes, meeting him more than halfway.  Oh, the feeling of a strong man under your hands.  Someone real, not dream or memory, but warm and solid and here.  Licking over the seam of Steve’s lips, spurring him on, you sighed when his tongue tentatively tasted your own.

Cradling your face in his impossibly large hands, your need swelled at the grounding support Steve offered, eagerly matching his intensity.  As he pulled away, your feminine flavor on his lips, a light of lust shone in his bright eyes.  Swallowing hard, “I… I hope that was alright.” Breathless and boneless, “It was more than alright, Steve.” Twisting a lock of your hair, his knuckles brushing over your blush soaked cheekbone, “I have wanted to do that for a long time, you know?” Suddenly shy, you lowered your gaze, “I know. Sorry...” Lifting your chin once more, Steve huskily whispered, “Don’t apologize, doll.  Not to me.  Not to anyone.” The next morning, at your desk typing away, you weren’t really expecting America’s fiercest fighter to find you.  Yet there was Steve, a checkered button up shirt stretched dangerously over his wide chest, sleeves turned up so that the enhanced veins of his wrists were on display.  “Hey doll.” “Hey yourself!”  Again that flustered feeling washed over you.  Steve was hovering right at the edge of your space, too far away, but still shockingly close.  “Captain!  Great to see you!  Tony’s on his way up, but maybe you’d like to wait in my office?”  Pepper blew in, graceful and glowing, immediately commanding the attention of their guest. “Sure.  I’ll be right there.”  But he didn’t budge.  In fact, Steve settled himself on the corner of your desk, crossing those impossibly muscled arms, looking you over keenly. Sitting up straighter, swiveling your chair his way, “Is there something I can do for you, Captain Rogers?” That sent one of his golden eyebrows skyward, a playful grin lighting up his face.  Steve leaned into you, “A few things, actually.  But let’s start with dinner.  Tonight, no excuses.”  Pulling himself up to his full height, imposing but impossibly charming, “Not too fancy, ok?”

Breathlessly, “Yes.  Ok.  Yes.”

Swinging back to your computer screen, your chair stopped, forced to stillness by Steve’s heavy hand.  “Oh, and doll?” Those lips of his found yours, providing enough pressure to part your own, taking you by surprise at so public a display of affection.  But how could you resist when Steve curled you close?  He tasted like autumn sunshine, all warm honey and cinnamon sugar, making you melt into his kiss, oblivious to the world around you. “Steve?  Oh, Captain, My Captain!  Please, stop harassing the help!  That’s an HR nightmare waiting to happen!”  Tony chided playfully as he approached. Sighing, Steve straightened, his hand lingering on your shoulder.  “Tonight.  I can’t wait.”

Beaming, you bit your bottom lip, Steve’s taste still on your tongue.  “See you then.” Natasha watched you, pacing nervously, worrying a hole in the rug of your apartment.  “He’ll be here.  Relax.” “I’m not worried about him not showing up.  I’m terrified that he will.”  Sitting on the edge of your couch, fiddling with the hem of your skirt, “I should cancel.  This… this is all happening really fast.” “Fast?”  Scoffing, Natasha sashayed into your kitchen, pulling a wine glass from the cabinets she knew so well.  “I wouldn’t call your first date in two years fast.  If anything, you’re moving at a snail’s pace.” Giggling at her silliness, “A snail’s pace, huh?” Handing you the overfilled goblet, laughing herself, “Yea.  Or, like maybe a tortoise?” You sipped cautiously, more to keep your shirt stain free than out of worry about overindulgence, “Slow and steady wins the race, Nat.” “Then what exactly are you racing towards?”  It was Natasha's innate ability to turn a question back on you that made her one of your closest friends.  Somehow a calming glass of pinot was part of an existential debate on your future.  What were you after? “Um… I guess, I want to feel…” words failed you.  Feel. Loki had taken all of those ideals with him when he left.  If you were completely honest, you weren’t sure what love looked like without the impish, mischievous man at your side.  Perching on the arm of your couch, brushing over your search for the right words, “Listen.  I know that you’re still… torn.  But, give Steve a shot.  He’s been alone too long.  Just like you.” A firm knock distracted you both.  “Well… how do I look?”  Smoothing out your skirt, you twirled for your friend, eager to be complimented. “Great!  Really great!  Have so much fun tonight!” Hugging her quickly, you whispered, “I will… try.  I will try.  And,” stepping back to look at your thoughtful friend, “Thanks.” Another knock, steady and even as the man on the other side of the door, “No problem!  Now get out there, Steve’s waiting.” Nodding once more, you almost danced to the entryway, Natasha peeking into the hall just to make sure that you didn’t falter at the last minute.  She felt a small pang of guilt as you opened the door on Steve, standing there with a small bouquet of flowers, hope written across his fine features. Natasha had read the last communique from SHIELD, Fury had made sure of that.   What it said, that Loki was alive, and his return to Earth was almost assured, had been running through her mind ever since.  All the more reason to get you out of his clutches and into Steve’s while she still could.  Just the thought that Loki might come back to claim what was his, meant that there was no way you would have taken her advice, no chance that you’d have accepted Steve’s dinner invitation.  Even with his smooth skills, the super soldier knew precious little about wooing women, something Nat chalked up to years under the ice.  Unlike Loki, who was as clever and quick as they come.  So, Natasha was the matchmaker, the one who hatched this whole scheme.  It wasn’t a role she relished but it did require the skill set she had perfected over the years.  Watching, waiting, setting a baited trap, springing it at the right time.   

And Natasha had executed her part to perfection as evidenced by the adorable look on your face after Steve’s impromptu kiss following your tantrum the other day.  Or how he’d visited your office and made your knees weak in front of everyone, including Tony.  It was all anyone could talk about.  To be honest, Natasha didn’t think Steve had it in him, and yet, you were walking out the door with him, off to a night of fun and romance. “Um… Nat?  Could you?”  Handing over the small bundle of blossoms, Natasha took them, a satisfied smile on her face.  This was going to work, she could feel it.  You were already halfway gone from the looks of things and Steve had been yours since the first time he’d met you.  If Loki spent another month, or, fingers crossed longer, off world, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, hell, the Forest Moon of Endor, you’d be hooked on Steve and safe from that Trickster and his shifting plans. Questioning herself, Natasha wondered, not for the first time, if she was doing the right thing.  The noble thing.  The plain truth was she couldn’t watch you break again, not after last time.  Steve wouldn’t cause that kind of hurt, he just wasn’t built that way, and that’s why she’d pulled your collective strings.  Moving your pieces into play, always in your best interest, always to help, that’s what Nat told herself.

But always, deep down, she was a company girl and it was Fury who wanted to keep tight tabs on you.  Without knowing the whys of Nat's scheme, he had been happy to learn about Steve's growing interest in the girl who once tamed Loki.  His reasoning, as he explained to the Black Widow, was two fold.  

First, knowing Steve was with you to keep you safe and under surveillance in the event that Loki contacted you was a good thing.  No need to search for you while you were necking with the Captain.  Second, if Loki came back needing a reminder on why he should behave, you were there as incentive… or bait, depending on the severity of the situation.

Sighing, Natasha gulped down your unfinished wine, wondering if her plan would be enough to keep you safe.  Why couldn't Loki stay gone?  Maybe he had moved on, just like you, and he would stay away.

Fat chance of that happening with you in play.  Loki would be back.  That would happen. As she placed Steve’s floral arrangement into your vase, Natasha hoped that it would be later, much later, than her reading suggested.

~ Part 2 Coming Soon!~ My Beauties:  @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @vodka-and-some-sass @lots-of-loki @jamielea81 @thefallenbibliophilequote @lokislittlecorner @iamverity @crystalizedcaramel @rorybutnotgilmore @jessiejunebug @alexakeyloveloki @ahintofkiwistrawberry @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @mizfit2​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @thenatallie​ @wolfsmom1​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @sammy-jo1977​

[s-horne]

In his defence, Tony was tired. He never slept well when Steve was away and Steve had been away for nearly a week. Sleep hadn’t been easy and Tony had been surviving on coffee and coffee alone.

With his ears still ringing from the loud music he’d had blasting in the workshop, he headed up to the kitchen slowly. He didn’t like to be in their house knowing that Steve wouldn’t be heading home at the end of the day and, with the mission as unsure as it was, no one had known when Steve would be finished.

Tony wasn’t expecting Steve to be home. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be home, which is why having an unexpected woman in his kitchen made him jump so high. Tony was a superhero. He had an iron suit of armour that he flew around the world to fight literal aliens. He shouldn’t have jumped so much at a single intruder.

Whilst a woman in his kitchen might have been low on someone else’s danger list, Tony could feel the last of his caffeine high wearing off. He also knew not to underestimate people; he’d made that dangerous mistake before.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the intruder standing at the other end of the kitchen, her palms flat on the counter between them. Tony blinked once, twice, keeping them closed for a second longer each time.

Every time he opened his eyes, she was still there.

“J?” he called out, keeping his wary gaze on the woman. “J, we have a guest.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

Tony only resisted rolling his eyes so that he didn’t have to take his gaze from his intruder. “And you didn’t alert me?”

The first thing that Tony had noticed was that her hair was long. It was well past her chest, a striking, dusty blonde that curled down to the very ends. The second thing was that she looked familiar, but Tony couldn’t place her.

It was no secret that Tony was attracted to women. Tony was pretty much attracted to every gender. But he was also an extremely happily married man and his eyes hadn’t strayed since he and Steve had gotten married. Since they’d gotten together. Even with that in mind, Tony couldn’t deny that the woman in his house was gorgeous.

It was in the eyes, he thought. The colour of them stood out even from so far away, bold and bright.

“I didn’t think it necessary, Sir,” JARVIS answered calmly, pulling Tony’s attention away from falling any deeper into the woman’s eyes, “given that Captain Rogers lives here.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Steve?”

The woman cracked a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

*

“Okay.” Tony dropped his empty mug back onto the table and smacked his lips. “Right. Let’s talk.”

Steve, or the female version of Steve, chuckled. The noise was higher than it ever had been before, musical in a much different way than Tony was used to. Tony knew Steve’s laugh. He knew Steve’s laugh in every way. Knew what it sounded like in his ear, knew what it felt like in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve echoed and Tony tried his hardest not to flinch. As gorgeous as the voice was, it wasn’t Steve’s. “I’m fine, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Good. I couldn’t see any bandages, but that means nothing with you.”

Another laugh. “Not this time, darlin’. Promise. Just… well. This.”

Steve gestured down at his, her, body and Tony grimaced. Right. He needed more coffee.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Steve jumped at Tony’s snapped answer. “What?”

“Bullshit. Steve always knows. He has an answer for everything.”

“I don’t,” Steve said softly, calmly. “I don’t have an answer for this.”

“My husband is in… I don’t know where he is, exactly, but he’s away. On a mission. He’s not in my kitchen and he’s not a woman.”

“Tony. Please, sweetheart. You know it’s me.” Steve reached a hand out and Tony’s gaze fell at the band around her finger. It was only a simple one, but Tony would recognise it anywhere. He let out a weird sort of snorted laugh when it clicked. It was a foreign noise, one that sounded like it had come from a different part of the room. From a different person, even. It wasn’t him… just like Steve wasn’t Steve.

“Nice ring.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smile clear in her voice. “Thanks. I kinda love it.”

They fell quiet again. Without looking up to Steve’s face, Tony called to JARVIS. “You ran everything, J?”

“I did, Sir. All reports sent to your StarkPad. I can conclude without a doubt that this is, in fact, Captain Rogers.”

The fact that the woman wasn’t fighting Tony or trying to protest her version of events added to the evidence in her favour and tipped the scales towards the fact that she was telling the truth. Steve knew that Tony couldn’t just be told something and instantly believe it. He needed facts and figures, needed cold, hard evidence in his hands.

He flicked through the reports that JARVIS had exported quickly, his eyes flickering up to the woman sitting opposite him every so often. Steve was sitting there calmly, hands curled around a mug of steaming coffee, ring clinking against the ceramic as Steve tapped absentmindedly.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Like, really you.”

Steve met Tony’s gaze. “Yeah. It really is.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Tony couldn’t help but follow the movement. Steve’s lips had never been thin, but, as a woman, they were thicker than ever. A deep, dark pink that Tony wanted to bite at, make them a bold red instead. “We were close to finishing the mission when something went awry. Someone got wind of what we were doing or tipped off another group, I don’t know.”

Her hand reached up to sweep through her hair, but Steve had obviously forgotten about its new length and her fingers got tangled in the thick curls. The betrayed look on her face made Tony let out a startled laugh.

“Ouch. Well, anyway, someone must have– shit.” Steve tugged her hand again but all it served to do was yank on the roots.

Rising from his chair, Tony rounded the table wordlessly and lifted his hands to Steve’s hair. It felt the same, his mind noticed as he worked the strands quickly to untangle the curls and free Steve’s hand. When it was hanging loose down Steve’s back again, he stepped away and rooted quickly through a few of the drawers under the counter.

“Thank you,” Steve said, shaking her arm to dislodge a few casualties in the form of pulled-out hairs. “So, anyway, we think one of the groups that were told about our mission dabble in magic, or some form of it.”

Tony hummed before his fingers closed around what he’d been looking for and he let out a triumphant cry. “So you got hit by magic? A curse, maybe?”

“Pretty sure. None of us can be exactly certain because we didn’t see anything, but we didn’t eat or drink anything that wasn’t our SHIELD rations or made by one of us.” Steve’s speech ended in a soft gasp as Tony started working his hand through her thick curls.

“Sounds like it, then,” Tony said, fingers working quickly to plait Steve’s hair. “You know, your hair’s long. Like really long.”

Steve turned her head to lift an eyebrow in a perfect arch. Tony’s eyes were drawn to it, the reprimand for moving dying on the tip of his tongue. It was just another reminder that everything about Steve had changed. Even her eyebrows were thinner, a completely different shape to what they had been before. Tony swallowed and gently turned her head again so that she was looking away from him.

“Shut up,” he said, catching a few curls that had tried to break free, “it’s a big change. I’m not used to you having so much hair for me to grab.” He stopped himself as he realised how that sounded and did his best to push the dirty images that shot into his mind away. It was so not the time for that. “So, if you trust everyone on your team –”

“Which I do,” Steve cut in quickly.

“–then yes, it sounds as though it was magic. I don’t know of a serum or even a lab that’s working on this sort of thing, so it can’t be scientific. Who else knows what happened?”

“Probably most of SHIELD by now.” Steve sighed and her fingers danced around the rim of her discarded mug. “We had to abandon the mission, obviously, so we had to send in a report. I snuck away to come here, but they’ll need me soon. I’ll be summoned to a lab, I’m sure.”

Tony took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could admit that he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of his husband (wife?) being carted away like a circus attraction and poked and prodded by all manner of scientists.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said. Pulling one hair band off his wrist, Tony tied the end of the plait before twisting it up into a bun. Or, at the very least, into a vague bun shape. He had done his best with the two, stretched-out hair bands that he’d remembered he’d had shoved in a drawer. He was often finding them after late-night business meals with Pepper, the ones where they cracked open a few bottles of wine to pour over new contracts. More often than not, they ended up with YouTube tutorials playing and Pepper’s hair tied in all manner of styles. “No partner of mine is going to SHEILD’s labs.”

With a hand raised to feel her new hair-do, Steve spun on her chair and treated Tony to a soft smile. “Gonna trap me in your own lab, huh, darlin’?”

“You know me.” God, she was beautiful. Her face was a lot softer than Steve’s was as a male, her cheekbones a little higher and a little less pronounced. Though Tony tried not to feel guilty for noticing her looks, he couldn’t quite push away the feeling that it wasn’t Steve.

“I do.” Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. For once, her hand was smaller than Tony’s. The callouses were there the same as ever, as were Steve’s nails bitten right down to the fingertips. They’d been working on that habit, but Tony didn’t think Steve would ever break it.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. This was still his partner, but it wasn’t at the same time. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would he ever have his Steve back or would he be with the female version forever?

It was a lot to process and far too much to deal with on the amount of sleep he’d been surviving on. He wanted a nap.

Pulling his hand from Steve’s, Tony turned to the counter. “Right. Let’s move this somewhere a little more comfortable.”

 *

 Steve’s body looked so much smaller when she was curled up in her favourite armchair.

The night before he’d left for his mission, Steve had sat in that same chair as he’d laughed along with some reruns of an old sitcom they’d found on an obscure channel after flicking through a few hundred. Neither of them had paid all that much attention to it after Tony had crawled into his lap and connected their lips in a deep kiss.

Now, with her legs folded under her body and covered by a thick blanket, Steve seemed to be swallowed by the huge cushions. Still as fearless and as strong as ever, Tony could tell that by one glance, but smaller.

“Do I call you… Steve?” Tony squinted, head titled to his side as he looked at his partner. “No. Stephanie? Steph?”

He was rewarded with raised eyebrows and complete derision over Steve’s face. “That’s your main concern?”

“No! Of course it’s not,” Tony said before pausing. “Yes, actually. Maybe it is. I don’t know. Christ, you can’t just drop this on me. It’s a lot to process.”

He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was so much to get his head around. Too much.

“I think I’ll stick with Steve,” he said eventually and he got a soft laugh in return.

“Okay. Works for me.”

“Even now? You don’t mind it?”

“Course not, sweetheart. It’s my name, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always called me. I’m never going to not want to hear that from you.”

That helped a little, but Tony still felt like he was on uneven ground. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would Steve ever change back? It wasn’t the person that Tony had married, physically at least.

Though it wasn’t exactly unnerving, it wasn’t normal. Well, it wasn’t even not normal. That wasn’t what Tony meant.

Actually, he had no clue what he meant. All he knew for certain was that his head hurt and thinking about the situation so deeply wasn’t helping.

“Can we go to bed yet?”

The concern was clear in Steve’s voice when she spoke. “Are you okay?”

Tony sighed, letting his head drop forward again. “Fine. Of course I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Of course Steve knew that. It seemed that whatever body Steve was in, Steve still knew Tony inside and out.

“You have no proof of that. But no, I haven’t been.” Tony grinned at Steve’s sigh, but his head was still pounding. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wow,” Steve said softly, brow furrowed and eyes staring straight at Tony. Her eyes were still the same. They still sparkled like they always had, still looked at Tony with the same mix of fondness and clear exasperation. “The world really has been knocked off its axis, if you’re willingly heading to bed.”

Tony huffed a weak laugh. Sleep sounded good to him. Sleeping for a week and waking up with Steve still away on his mission sounded even better.

Standing from his chair, he hid a yawn in the inside of his elbow and headed for the door.

Just before he crossed the threshold, he turned and held out a hand. “Coming?”

 *

 “Tony?”

Tony rolled onto his side to see Steve standing at the edge of the bed, hovering a little anxiously. She was wearing an old sweatshirt of Tony’s, which hung down past her hips and was falling off one shoulder. For the first time in their relationship, it seemed as though Tony’s clothes would actually fit Steve. That thought alone made something squirm in Tony’s stomach, a spark suddenly lit that threatened to ignite into a raging fire.

“Hi,” he said stupidly, voice a little breathier than he’d have liked. “Coming in?”

“You’re on my side.”

Tony snorted. Right. Same old Steve. “Sorry.” He shuffled backwards until there was enough room for Steve to crawl under the sheets. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, the spit glistening in the low glow from the beside lamp. “Just thinking about what to do next.”

Tony reached out and rested his hand across Steve’s eyes. “Sleep. Sleep is next.”

“We need to find out what–”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Tony said, words slurring a little as Steve playfully batted his hand away. Sleep was catching up to Tony, washing over him so easily with Steve back in their bed. It was just one more point in Steve’s favour; Tony felt so peaceful with her there, Steve’s mere presence enough to let Tony relax enough to sleep. “What we need to do now is sleep.”

There was a beat of silence. “You’re okay with me being in here?”

Tony forced himself to open his eyes again, battling to stay awake long enough to assemble his thoughts.

They were lying close in the bed, close enough to touch. When Steve rolled onto her side at the extended silence, Tony could feel her breath on his nose.

“I love you,” Tony said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they had on their wedding day. “I loved you in pictures from before the war. I’ve loved you as both Steve Rogers and Captain America, and I love you now. It’s you and me. No matter what.”

Steve smiled softly and they fell into a comfortable silence, Steve finally relaxing into the pillow. Just as Steve’s eyes closed and her breathing evened out, a thought struck Tony.

“Oh, God,” he said in horror, “I’m going to have to top again.”

***

(prompt from the Put on the Suit discord)

[howtosingit]

Fic: Sometimes Things Just Fall Apart 

TK comes home to a dark, silent house, no dog to greet him at the door, and a husband laying in bed, still dressed in his work uniform; it’s anything but normal.

*

Written for @tarlosweek2020 - Day 2: “It’s okay to cry” + Comfort

2.1K | Also on AO3.

-----

The house feels cold and empty when TK gets home from work.

It’s unsettlingly, considering the Strand-Reyes household is pretty much always bright and bursting with energy. Usually when he walks through the door, he’s met with the furry hurricane of a golden retriever, who tries to tackle him with kisses before he even slips out of his shoes. When Carlos beats him home, TK usually finds him in the kitchen, music playing and smells permeating the space as his husband prepares dinner for the two of them. He always slips in next to Carlos to claim his customary “thank you for being safe at work and coming home to me” kisses - one pressed to his forehead and one to his lips - before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and sitting at the island so that they can fill each other in on their workdays. 

None of that greets TK when he walks through the door today. There isn’t a single light on, and no Max to greet him with slobbery kisses. He knows Carlos is home, having pulled alongside the Camaro in the garage. He calls out as he slips off his shoes, but no one answers. A chill runs through TK when he spots Max’s leash hanging by the door, a feeling of dread coursing through him as he takes in the stark, uninviting kitchen to his left, and the equally uninhabited living room to his right. 

TK cuts through the house, heading for the stairs, his heart beating heavier with each step as he searches for his husband. His mind is spinning with possible explanations, wondering what might have happened at work for Carlos to bring it home with him. TK knows that Carlos does everything he can to not let his job seep into their home, a discipline that TK has also worked to strengthen in himself. It doesn’t mean that they don’t talk about the hard days, but usually when they happen, Carlos will text him when he’s off work and they’ll spend the evening out, either at a park or seeing a movie or getting dinner. Anything to purge the pain of their work before they go to bed for the night. It’s not a perfect system, but they’ve made it work for them, and the fact that Carlos has broken the expected routine shakes TK to his core.

His fear increases when he steps onto the second-floor landing and hears no sounds from the bathroom. He wondered if Carlos may have been in the shower and not heard him when he called, but that idea dies in the continued silence. He continues forward to their bedroom, pushing against the ajar door to peer inside. His breath steals from his chest at what he finds. 

Laying on the bed, back-to-back, are his two guys. Max looks up at him from his side of the bed, a concerned look on his face. The fact that he makes no move to greet him tells TK all that he needs to know. His husband lays on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, and TK notices that he’s still fully-dressed in his uniform, shoes and duty belt included. It’s such a jarring sight that TK freezes before he can even take a step into the room. 

“Carlos?” he says softly, his voice carrying across the stiff silence in the room like a siren scream. There’s no movement from his husband, and TK wonders if he might be asleep. Max turns his head to nudge against the back of Carlos’s neck, a soft whine escaping him; TK feels his heart break.

He moves quietly, circling around the foot of the bed to stand in front of Carlos. He’s shocked to find his eyes open, the brown irises that are usually filled with love and warmth unnervingly blank as they stare straight ahead at the far corner of the room. His husband makes no indication that he’s even noticed him. 

TK slowly sinks to his knees, bringing them face-to-face. Carlos continues to stare through him, his expression an unchanging mask. “Hey, you,” TK whispers, a forced smile forming on his face as he tries to get any sort of reaction out of his husband. It’s not until he brings a hand up to delicately grip Carlos’s wrist that his husband finally notices his presence.

It’s sudden, a visible shiver running down his entire body as his eyes blink warily, his pupils dilating as they shift to focus on TK. The moment their eyes meet, TK watches as Carlos’s eyebrows furrow in distress, the crease between them intensifying dramatically. He feels his heart split open in his chest, Carlos’s obvious pain stabbing him like a dozen knives. They’ve been that way since they first started dating, so completely linked that their emotions sometimes blend together into something they both carry for one another.

TK leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m right here, okay?” he murmurs, shifting to touch his lips to Carlos’s cheek. He feels his husband shake beneath him as an uneven sigh escapes his lips. “Can we take off your uniform? You can’t be comfortable, babe.”

There’s a pause as TK stays close, waiting for Carlos to respond. When he does, with a silent nod, TK presses another kiss to his skin before pulling back to stand up.

It’s a slow process, but he doesn’t care. He gets Carlos into a sitting position, and item-by-item he undresses his husband, starting with his belt and shoes. He notices that Carlos’s gun is missing and he’s relieved to know that, despite whatever happened today, his husband wasn’t out of it enough to not put his firearm in the safe. As each article of clothing is removed, TK presses a soft kiss to Carlos’s exposed skin. 

His husband, usually so large and physically imposing but now so small and reserved, stares up at him as he completes his task. Finally, Carlos is left only in his boxer briefs and undershirt, and TK quickly undresses down to the same before taking his husband’s hand and pulling him to lay back down on the bed, this time the two of them laying face-to-face. He notices that Max has moved to his own bed in the corner, happy to let TK take over as caregiver now that he’s home.

“Thank you,” Carlos breathes out, his first words striking hard after such a heavy absence. They’re close enough that TK can feel his breath on his face, and he takes a moment to rub their noses together, bringing a hand up to run his fingers along Carlos’s jaw. 

“Of course,” TK responds just as quietly, a sad smile pulling at his lips. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” 

TK is relieved when Carlos immediately nods, though he says nothing at first. 

“I’m here when you’re ready, okay? Take your time,” he confirms, scooting closer to press their bodies fully together. He stares into Carlos’s eyes, watching as his usually warm brown irises swim with tears that refuse to fall. He’s terrified, having no idea what could’ve happened for Carlos to react like this, his mind supplying the absolute worst-case scenarios. Then, suddenly, as if he’s dragging the words through his throat from his core, Carlos stutters out just two words.

“Maureen called.”

TK’s brain stops short, every explanation that his brain had been expecting vanishing into thin air at Carlos’s response. He feels like he’s been shut inside of a walk-in freezer, every inch of his body erupting in one long, chilled-to-the-bone shiver. Through the roaring in his ears, he hears himself let out a stuttering gasp. He can feel a prickle at the corner of his eyes as his mind pieces together Carlos’s behavior with news from Maureen, and he closes them before a tear can fall, trying to take a deep breath to calm down.

They’ve been struggling through the process of adopting a child for almost a year and a half, cycling through stages of hope and grief almost daily. They were warned, multiple times, that adoption was a complicated and long journey towards starting a family, especially as gay men in Texas with high-risk jobs. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the pain of getting a little closer each time before it all came crashing down with a single call from Maureen, their adoption counselor. 

“It’s okay to cry, Ty,” his husband says, a hand coming up to caress his cheek. TK, suddenly overwhelmed, feels his face crumble as a laugh-sob crawls up his throat.

“You stole my line,” he chokes out, opening his eyes again to find Carlos staring at him through his own tear-filled eyes. “Why didn’t you call me, sweetheart?”

“I missed her call,” Carlos explains, his voice thick with emotion, “and couldn’t reach her until I was on my way home. I didn’t want to ruin the end of your day, too.”

This is the third time they’ve actively pursued an adoption opportunity; the previous two times, they did everything they could to remain realistic, reaching a point where they wouldn’t talk to anyone else about it. They’re not superstitious, exactly, it’s just that the more they talk about it, the more they plan and consider what life will be like with a child. They got even further this time, and maybe dared to hope too much. TK watches as Carlos continues to grieve for the lost children they’ll never have, and it breaks his heart every time. 

“It kills me to think of you dealing with this alone,” TK worriedly admits, pulling Carlos closer. His husband shifts to press his face in TK’s neck, his favorite place to be, and TK grips him tighter as he feels Carlos shake with new sobs. 

“I really thought it was going to happen this time,” he cries softly, TK feeling his tears finally fall onto his neck. He squeezes his own eyes shut, his own tears falling as he presses his face into Carlos’s dark curls.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

“What if it never does?” Carlos questions after a moment, and TK can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s voicing his greatest fear out-loud for the first time. 

“Hey,” TK hedges, pulling back to take his husband’s face in both hands. He stares into those deep brown eyes and knows that he would give anything to bring back their unmatched warmth. “You, Carlos Strand-Reyes, are going to be a dad, okay? Your heart is so big, your love is so strong, and I know that you’re meant to share it with someone who will admire you as much as I do. Someone that you and I will raise and love and adore more than anyone else on this earth. That’s our story, Carlos, that’s what we decided, and just because we haven’t gotten to that chapter, it doesn’t mean we’re going to rewrite it, okay? It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen, I know it will.”

Carlos just stares at him when he goes quiet, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes glisten with fresh tears. 

“I love you, Ty,” he gasps, pressing in to claim TK’s lips with his own. It’s a hard, desperate kiss, full of the lingering grief and sudden emptiness that the day has brought, but like every kiss they share, it’s also filled with overwhelming love and comfort, the kind that only they can provide to one another.

When they break apart, Carlos presses their foreheads together. “You’re going to be the best dad in the world, you know that?” he whispers, nudging their noses together.

“I’m not so sure,” TK laughs gently, pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s lips, salty from their tears. “You’ll probably have me beat.”

“I’m serious, Ty,” Carlos presses further, his tone making that clear. “The way you take care of all of us, the way you care for me… I can’t wait to see you with our child. It’s going to be breathtaking.”

“How about a tie then?” TK relents, a smile growing on his lips. “You and me, Best Dads in the World.”

“That’ll be one lucky kid,” Carlos laughs, wrapping his arms around TK’s waist. 

TK feels his heart clench in his chest as he watches his husband’s eyes crinkle, their familiar warmth gradually reappearing. 

“You have no idea,” TK agrees, tightening his grip on Carlos, their closeness like a salve for their mutually broken hearts.

In each other’s arms, they begin to heal.  

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Only Mine Pt. 3

A/N: I know this is a part 3, so it’s on the verge of a mini series, but I got this idea and thought it would be cool so we’re going with it. aLsO I know Instagram and most social media and modern iPhones were not around during the Black Parade era of 2007. But let’s all just pretend like they were for the sake of this fic. Also, if you have ever been to a Taylor Swift concert, I’m pretty sure you’ll understand that the entire things is based off of one, specifically 1989 (my favorite era if we’re being honest). Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Words: 3,270 Warnings: Mentions of sex, a bit of swearing.

You could feel the corset back of your bodysuit be tightened and tied once again, after dozens of times. This was not your first rodeo.

Playing in front of over 150,000 people may have seemed impossible even a year ago. But the huge demand of fans and observers to see your tour led your record label to agree to send you on a solo stadium tour, something you had never done before.

“On in 5.” One of the stage crew walked back into your suite behind the stage to tell you. You nodded, looking over to your best friend, Y/B/F/N.

“You ready for another one?” You rolled your eyes and lightly laughed.

“I don’t think I was ever ready to go on a tour and play in front of this many people.” You admitted, getting up, “But I need to be.” She tightly smiled at you.

“Hey, you’re absolutely incredible at this. Like genuinely, fucking great.” She smiled. You had begged her months ago to go on tour with you as a companion. Ideally, your husband would have been the one to go with you, but he was touring at the exact same time. So obviously, that wouldn’t have worked out.

“Thanks.” You gave her a tight hug, her doing the same back, as the two of you walked out and into the main area behind the stage.

Going on tour had been exciting and fun in every way, but draining for so many reasons. You hadn’t seen Gerard in over six months until the night prior when he willingly flew in during a one week break MCR had from touring, so he could visit you. And, well, be a surprise guest for the show in New Jersey. Because who else would you have invited?

You had even put a sneak peek on your Instagram story earlier that morning, being up on your ginormous stage with a runway spanning over 70 feet and curving around so you could see everyone who was there. The free light-up bracelets everyone got helped too (if you’ve ever been to or seen a Taylor Swift concert, you know what I mean).

“Hey guys,” You smiled while recording yourself in one of your tour hoodies, during rehearsal on stage, “I’m super super excited because tonight, at MetLife Stadium in New Jersey, we have a very special guest. They’re literally one of my favorite people ever, if not my favorite person, and they’re so extremely talented. They’re so important to me, and I consider myself maybe their number one fan.” You lightly laughed before turning it off and posting it to your story.

“Already dropping hints, huh?” You heard Gerard walk the stage from behind you. You rolled your eyes.

“Of course I did Gee.” You smiled, “I’m just too excited!” He smiled back.

“How do you do this every night, by the way?” He asked, arms crossed with a water bottle in one of his hands. His hair was a mess, as per usual, and he had a jean jacket on.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “You just kinda get used to it.”

“It’s just so incredible,” He sighed, “I mean, genuinely, I don’t know how you do it.” You nudged him playfully.

“Oh please, Gee, you’re an absolute beast while you’re performing.”

“Makes sense, you’re the beauty.” You nudged him again, this time a little harder.

“You’re so cheesy sometimes.”

You walked out below the stage to where an elevator would lift you up onto it. Your nerves will still co-exist with your mind, as you took a single deep breath to calm you down. You and all your backup singers, dancers, and the band all put yourself in a circle, with your hands in the middle. “Ready guys?” You asked and everyone hummed and nodded with smiles, “I don’t know why but I feel like tonight's just going to be awesome.” You smiled. “3, 2, 1... Midnight!” Everyone shouted, cheering, and breaking away. The entire crew dispersed to their own areas where they would go out on stage as you prepared to be lifted up.

You weren’t sure whether it was the crowd or the fact your lover was there. Of course, Gerard has seen the show before. He was at the first one in a reserved section of the floor that was completely isolated from everyone with a minibar even where family and friends sat. And celebrities were invited. That entire show was basically you serenading him in front of almost 100,000 people by stealing glances during songs (all of which were about him) and motioning your hands and such towards that area. And you knew he noticed by the way his smile grew even wider than before whenever you did. And tonight would of course be no different.

“So what should I do?” He asked, standing next to you during rehearsal as you two began to plot and plan what would happen.

“Just be you.” You said.

“Babe,” He began, “I love you, like a lot, but I don’t know if me doing my usual thing is best.”

“Why not?” You pouted with a frown, “You’re fucking amazing on stage!” You argued.

“Because I tend to go a little wild, ya know, stage Gerard is different than normal Gerard-”

“Yes, I know, and that’s fine.” You insisted, “But, and trust me when I say this, stage Gerard tends to be more entertaining for a large crowd than normal Gerard. No offense.”

“No, you’re right,” He agreed, “But, ya know, we can get destructive sometimes.”

“Well you don’t get really destructive when you’re by yourself,” You said right back, “If Frank were here, that would be a different discussion.” He lightly chuckled, almost under his breath.

“You sure?” He asked again, “I mean, you’re a pop princess, and I’m a rock dude who kinda does random stupid shit like a 14-year-old with no understanding of what consequences are.”

“And love,” You told him, grabbing one of his hands, “That’s exactly what I want you to fucking do.”

The first part of the show went exactly as planned, everything went smoothly, and the crowd was incredible, to say the least. It seemed like everyone knew all the lyrics which made your heart flutter, and your glances and gestures towards Gerard always resulted in a little smirk or smile from it. You could’ve sworn you could see his blush through the nearly blinding stage lights.

It was time for another outfit change, this time Gerard would be backstage preparing for his section on stage, considering you had another song, then he would come on, then a few more before the finale. You crawled through some of the spaces in the back, running to the makeshift changing room. You saw him right outside, doing some vocal warm ups, but the moment he heard you he looked up and smiled, you return the gesture. “You’re doing incredible.” He told you, approaching you. You leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Thanks, babe.” You smiled, “I wish we could talk more but I gotta, ya know-” You motioned to the black box of a changing room behind you.

“Yeah, right, of course.” You ran in, stripping off your first bodysuit, with a second layer of spandex under it, with a group of three on your team getting you into your second bodysuit, this one a dark purple instead of light blue, and changing some minor aspects of your makeup like eye shadow color and lip color.

Running back out, you couldn’t help but notice Gerard’s stares of awe and confusion. “H-how’d you do that?” He asked, dumbfounded. You couldn’t help but laugh considering he had been in this business a few years longer than you.

“Magic!” You yelled back at him while running back to the stage door.

You crouched down again on the platform as it lifted you up, the music begging to play. You only had Cruel Summer, a relatively shorter song to play, before you could finally announce one of the most exciting things of all tour.

Once you finished the song you had to wait a few seconds, just standing there and smiling waiting for the crowd to settle down. “So guys,” You began, walking around the stage for a bit, “I don’t know how many of you may have seen this, but I posted something on my Instagram story today,” You smiled even more as the crowd cheered once again, “And I have a special guest for all of you to meet. He’s honestly the most incredible, genuine human being alive. I feel very lucky to be able to have in my life, and I don’t know what I would do without him. And I thought because we’re in New Jersey,” You shrugged, “There wouldn’t be anyone better to bring here tonight, so please, help me welcome Mr. Gerard Way!”

You could’ve sworn that you had heard the loudest crowds ever, but were you wrong. The moment you mentioned “Gerard” it was as if you were giving away free money, you were sure every person in that stadium was screaming to their fullest potential, it was almost deafening.

From the backstage lift your husband appeared, in his usual black jeans and leather jacket. Even better, one of your tour shirts on. You smiled at him as he smiled right back walking down the stage to where you were, the intro to Teenagers was already playing, everyone's light up bands turning red so the entire stadium was the color.

Gerard began singing as the crowd sang along. You could’ve sworn they were just as loud as you two were. What made it all the better was the level of cheers when he did his typical hip moves and bounced his leg to the beat. You could see a small smile form on his face, breaking his usual stage persona by the crowd’s reaction.

“Because, they sleep with a gun, and keep an eye on you, son, so they can watch all the things you do.” You sang next as he stopped to let you shine a bit before continuing the song on his own until the chorus where the two of you sang together.

You had to admit, you missed rock performances primarily because you could do whatever you wanted for no reason and people loved it. So naturally, both you and Gerard were jumping around and practically yelling, but the crowd seemed to love it.

Both of you stage personas took over which resulted in more PDA than usual, including a lot of close duets where you two were within an inch of one another, making deep eye contact while singing. The fans ate it up, yelling every time you two got within a reasonable vicinity of the other. Everyone seemed fascinated by the chemistry you two had, but you weren’t complaining.

By the end of the song, you two were standing next to each other at the end of the runway, smiling as the crowd roared like never before. You both looked out happier than ever, then back at each other where you smiled once again. While the crowd was still going crazy. “Can we give it up one for time for Gerard?” You asked, and even more, cheers erupted. You had never heard a crowd go this nuts before. Gerard smiled, even more, leaning in and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, everyone!” He smiled, “And I have to give an even bigger thank you, to my wonderful, beautiful, talented wife beside me.” More people cheered, “She genuinely one of the kindest, and considerate people I’ve ever met. I feel incredibly blessed every day to have her be my wife, and she amazes me with everything she does.” He smiled, “So why don’t we give a quick round of applause to her too?” He turned to you and more of the crowd screamed and clapped in response. You scrunched your nose, smiling at him in an attempt to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. The two of you walked back up the runway and to the back, down the elevator together, Gerard giving a final wave.

One you two were out of sight, you looked up and just hugged him, squeezing him as tight as you could, him doing the same back. “You’re so perfect it hurts.” You told him, as he looked down at you smiling, his hand still on your waist.

“Can I be honest?” You nodded, “That was one of the hottest things I have ever seen.” You nudged him lightly, in a playful manner rolling your eyes. “What? I can’t say anything about my wife singing my song? Damn your hips were moving so right and-”

“Okay, c’mon lover boy, I’ve got a show I gotta get back to.” You reminded him, pulling away so you could get changed again. You could hear a light whine he let out in protest as you walked to your dressing room again, but you chose to ignore it.

You changed only two more times before the show was over. After the finale, you, the dancers, backup singers, and band all taking bows, you waved once more going back down to under the stage where you took off all your equipment and sighed in relief. Another successful show completed.

The adrenaline was still pumping through your brain as your boots clicked in the hallways of the empty backstage arena, into your dressing room. You first removed your makeup, redoing it to look more natural, and changing from the sequence dress you wore during the last song into a pair of jeans and a solid-colored sweatshirt.

While you were putting on one of your pairs of sneakers you heard a knock on the door. “Come in.” You responded. Opening the door, Gerard appeared on the other side, smiling and closing it behind him. “Hey.” You smiled back.

“Hey, babe.” He said, leaning on the wall beside the door. “You did incredibly amazing.” You lightly laughed.

“Thanks.” You got up from where you were sitting on the couch, walking over to him and placing your arms loosely over his arms and behind his neck. “I couldn’t have done it without my special guest.”

“Well, yeah, you probably could have-” You placed your lips on his, immediately making him go quiet.

“Just shut up and take the compliment, Way.”

“Only if you insist, Way.”

“I gotta go meet some fans.” You pulled away, grabbing your water bottle and taking a sip. “You coming with?” He gave you a confused look. “Oh, c’mon,” You grabbed his hand, “They’re gonna freak.”

You never did paid meet and greets. Instead, you had hand-selected some of the fans to meet you after the show for free or had some people in your team go and find some lucky fans who you would meet. But tonight they would get a two for one with both you and Gerard. “Stay right here.” You whispered to him when you got to the meet and greet area, you two hiding behind a curtain. He nodded.

You walked through the black felt, as all dozen of the fans looked up to you wide-eyed, one of them even screaming. “Hey, guys!” You said, which resulted in all of them screaming, and one of them began to cry. “Oh my gosh.” You looked at her. She couldn’t have been much older than 16. But when she looked up, you immediately knew who she was. “Hi, Rachel.” You said. At that, she began sobbing more. “Can I give you a hug?” You asked, trying to calm her down. She nodded frantically as you wrapped your arms around her, and she hung onto you for dear life. “Don’t cry!” You insisted.

After talking to each of them individually for a few minutes it was finally time for a photo op. “By the way guys,” You said, “I have one more surprise.” You smiled, going back to the curtain that you emerged from previously. You looked at Gerard, who got the cue to come out. Of course, the fans gasped again as they saw him standing there now next to you. “This is my husband, Gerard, he was the guy on stage with me. And he’s the lead singer of this really awesome band called My Chemical Romance.”

“Uh, yeah, duh.” One of the girls, Lyla, said and you all laughed.

One by one you took photos with the fans and the people they came with, some of them doing poses and such which both you and Gerard were down to do. You also handed out free merch bags, which had some collectible items that were exclusive to only the fans who had been invited backstage.

You said goodbye to all of them, leaving you, Gerard, and some of the team plus security behind. The two of you walked back to your large dressing room, grabbing your personal belongings, and going out back where a car was to pick you up and bring you back to the hotel.

In the backseat of the solid black car, you couldn’t help but lay your head on Gerard’s shoulder, having not done so in months. Everything from his scent to the feel of his various jackets on your cheeks always put your mind to ease. You could feel his hand on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze of reassurance that he was there.

The car ride was silent. Not an awkward silence, but more of an enjoyable one. Just the presence of one another was enough to occupy your minds from any conversation.

Once you had reached the hotel, you two walked in hand and hand with security around you and up to your room. Inside the suite, you couldn’t help but take off your shoes and immediately sit down on the bed. “I’m really tired.” You admitted, “I’m sorry.” You looked up at your husband who couldn’t help but have an extremely confused look on his face.

“Why’re you apologizing?”

“Just because we would usually, well ya know, have sex which I’m pretty sure was on both of our agendas today.”

“Babe, you just performed a sold-out show in front of over 150,000 people. The last thing I want you to do is to worry about sex.”

“Okay,” You huffed, “I’m going to take a shower.” You got up giving him a quick kiss.

“I’ll be waiting for you, love.” He smiled. You got into the bathroom, closing the door, and stripping yourself of your current clothes. You took a quick and speedy shower. Considering your current state of being tired, you knew if you didn’t get in and out of there you would have just fallen asleep.

You changed into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt, walking back out to find Gerard, comfortably suited on his side of the bed in his pajamas, reading a book. You went over, climbing next to you, prompting him to put the novel down. “You can continue to read with one of the lights.” You told him, feeling partially guilty.

“No need,” He said, “As cheesy as this is going to sound, I’ve been thinking about cuddling with you for months now.” He slumped down so he was parallel with the bed. You lightly smiled, moving closer. He wrapped his hands around your waist and onto your back, letting your place your face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so incredibly proud of you.”

“Thanks, Gee.” You responded, “I would’ve never gotten here if it wasn’t for my wonderful muse.”

[edie-k]

Legally Ginger - Prologue (PG-13, Romione)

Now, for something totally different...

Title: Legally Ginger

Chapter 1/9

Rating: PG-13 (I use fuck more than the MPAA allows for PG-13 but that's a stupid rule - there's no explicit content)

Pairing: Romione endgame

Summary: When Ron Weasley's college girlfriend declines his proposal because he doesn't meet her standard for future husband, he decides comes up with a plan to let her see him in a new light.

Notes: This is an AU Muggle reimagination of Legally Blonde. It's very different than anything I have ever written - and my first chapter story. I intend to update each Monday.

Thank you to adnei for all of her beta feedback!

While I really enjoy Legally Blonde, it has some things that need a bit of updating or calling out in the year 2021. This fic will attempt to do those things but not lose the fun and fluffiness of the concept.

Also... I love the pop culture/time capsule references of the movie so plan to see that same vibe in this fic. If any of them are unclear to you, let me know in the comments because I love to talk pop culture!

Finally, lots of our favorites are scheduled to appear throughout the story - I eagerly anticipate all guesses as to who will be who!

Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter or Legally Blonde or any of their characters are owned by me and are not being used for profit.

Link to AO3 or click below to read more.

“Hey Tim!” Ron Weasley shouted, raising his hand to greet the guy behind the coffee cart but not breaking his stride.

“Hey Ron! Thanks for that recommendation. She loved it!”

Ron grinned and kept on running his recreational route that wove through the Los Angeles campus of California University. Even though his cross country career had come to an end with the conclusion of his senior season this fall, he didn’t intend to let his personal records slip. In fact, he was almost working harder. If everything went according to plan tonight, he planned to be competing in the iconic Boston Marathon next April.

“Ron! We still on to study tomorrow?” shouted his chem lab partner Kelsey as he strode past her.

“Yep! We’re going to rock that test out!”

“Hi Ron!” he heard a few female voices chorus together as he passed the Zeta Beta house. Several girls were doing yoga out on the front lawn.

“Great form ladies!” he yelled back, grinning as he heard the giggles.

He grabbed his shirt to wipe his forehead and glanced at his watch. 4:30. He was approaching the house and he had time to do some cool down stretches, shower, check that they had enough brothers to cover the Animal Aid fundraiser tomorrow, send his Econ professor his problem set, and dress for dinner before he had to leave for the Delta Nu house.

He slowed to a jog as his feet hit the driveway. He took the porch steps two at a time before entering the house. Immediately, he was greeted by a snort.

“Pig! Good boy,” he greeted, scratching the pug behind his ears.

“Come on boy,” he said, starting up the house stairs to his room, Pig following dutifully behind. As president, he lucked out with his own room with an en-suite bathroom but as was typical for his life, it wasn’t empty.

“Hey brother brother!” two voices said.

Ron rolled his eyes at the twins. “That joke will never be funny.” Fred and George grinned, one sprawled on his bed and one in his desk chair.

“We just have this last semester to even make the joke. Afterwards, it’ll be pathetic,” Fred said.

“That 40k is so close I can taste it,” said George.

His twin brothers were two years older than him, however, they’d dropped out after their sophomore year to open a retail shop selling joke and novelty items. They quickly realized they were more interested in conducting their own research and development; manufacturing their own products to distribute and sell. It was certainly more profitable. In order to get the seed money, they returned to college after two years. Their schooling, like Ron’s, was financed by his Aunt Muriel and upon receiving their bachelors degree, Muriel also handed over a $20,000 cash gift. The crotchety old broad put a lot of value on their schooling.

“And little Ronniekins is going to spend his on a girl,” Fred teased. It was then that he noticed Fred was fiddling with the small gray ring box that had previously been hidden in Ron’s sock drawer. He moved to snatch it back but Fred tossed it across the room to George.

Ron frowned. “First, I’m not spending it all on a girl. Part of it will be for the wedding and the rest I’ll save for a down payment on a house. Maybe not in Boston because we may not stay there after she finishes law school.”

“Oh yes, Bah-stan,” George mocked in a truly terrible accent.

“Yes. She’s sure that it’ll happen. She’s a legacy or something like that. I hope so because I think Boston Beer Company is going to make me an offer.”

“Free Sam Adams? I’ll take it,” Fred nodded.

“Secondly,” said Ron. “She’s not just a girl.”

The twins groaned. “Ugh, Ronnie, there’s no free beer yet. I can’t listen to this sober.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“I have to ask,” started George. “Are you sure about this? You’re so young and it hasn’t been that long. You could still go to Boston with her without getting engaged.”

While it was annoying to get another “you’re too young” speech, it wasn’t often that his brothers asked him a serious question. “I’m sure. She’s the one.”

“Well then,” said George, flipping the box to him. “Go get her.”

A few hours later, he was shifting nervously in his seat at their table at Chaudron Qui Fuitfont, playing with the same gray ring box in his pocket. The dinner course had been cleared and they were now waiting for dessert to arrive as well as the bottle of champagne he’d surreptitiously requested.

“Astoria, have I told you that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight?”

“Just three or four times,” she laughed.

“Well, I might tell you a few more,” Ron said.

“It’s not everyday that you put so much effort into a date. I had to deliver on my side as well,” Astoria replied.

“It’s appreciated,” Ron smiled. “I-I appreciate everything about you. How gorgeous you are, how driven… the past 18 months with you has really made me sit down and focus on what I want for my future, you know?”

“That’s great, Ron,” Astoria said, reaching across the table to give his hand a squeeze. She glanced around him. “I want another glass of Merlot.”

“Yeah. You know I’m in the final stages for jobs at three companies,” he said.

“Mmm,” she said distractedly.

“Including Boston Beer Company,” he added.

“That’s a reputable company. Although make sure the job isn’t on the Truly brand. They’ll never get the market from White Claw. Mark my words, they’ll fizzle in two years.”

“Astoria, I see my future with you.”

She looked up at him sharply. “What?”

“Yes. I love you. I’m ready to start the next stage of our relationship. Astoria - ” Ron stood up, pulling the ring box out.

“No.”

“Will you marry me?” Ron asked, kneeling next to her.

“No, now get up.”

Ron’s blood suddenly ran cold. “Wha-what?”

“I said, no, now sit down.” He numbly followed her direction.

“Ron,” Astoria sighed. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry.”

“But… why?”

Astoria gave him a pitying look. “Look, we have had so much fun. You’re a great guy.”

“Great guy? You told me you loved me,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low to avoid more embarrassment.

“And I do. As a college boyfriend. You are a great college boyfriend. You’re president of the second best fraternity on campus so you get all the best party invites. You’re on the cross country team so I can tell everyone I’m dating a Division I athlete, but you aren’t in one of those sports where it like, takes up all your time. You had a cool internship, everybody on campus loves you because you volunteer and help and you’re nice to everyone, even the janitors. You’re sweet and you’ve got a great body and you… you know,” she dropped her voice now “always deliver on what’s promised. You’ve been the perfect person to spend the last few semesters with.”

“I… I don’t understand what the problem is. I sound great from what you’re saying,” Ron seethed, frustration clear in his tone.

“I need a man for the next part of my life. Not a frat boy, not even if he doesn’t exactly fit the stereotype. I’m going to Harvard Law School in the fall. Do you understand how big of a deal that is?”

“Yes! That’s why I am pursuing a job in Boston. To be with you.”

“At a beer company.”

“I’m not opening a bar with my buddies. It’s a research and development role at a major corporation!”

“You have a degree in food science,” Astoria replied, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not like we spend all our time eating. It’s a real field. I got an A in Organic Chemistry.”

“Org Chem with Murphy. The serious students take it with Professor Kettle.”

Ron just gaped at her.

“If I’m going to be a federal judge by the time I’m 40, I need to stop dicking around. And I’m sorry, you’re not a Marty Ginsberg.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not an Armie Hammer either. Feels like there’s some wiggle room between those two extremes.”

“You’re a great guy. And I’m sure you’ll be a great husband to a marketing specialist or a pharmaceutical sales rep. And maybe if I was going to go to Wayne State or Northwestern, things would be different. But this is Harvard Law. There are just… expectations that any potential spouse meet a certain intellectual bar. Or at least a social bar. I mean, my sister is engaged to a Kennedy!”

At that point, the waiter approached the table with their desserts. Astoria stood up. “I’m really sorry. I’ll just call an Uber.” She paused and kissed him on the cheek before exiting the dining room.

“Uh, should I wrap these to go?” asked the waiter as Ron watched Astoria leave.