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prompts-adrien-sugar · 4 years ago

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OK I'm gonna talk about a subject that's kinda touchy but really sincerely needs to be said.

Some people in this fandom i genuinely admire and like, but here's the thing. Some of y'all in this fandom can be a bit insensitive to allot of issues (racism, sexism, abuse, etc) and some still try real hard to act like you don't and it's honestly really f*cking trifling/concerning, cause like y'all act like y'all don't do that, and it really aggravates me.

First onto the problem with racism this fandom has. Y'all have no qualms going on and on about the evident whitewashing the show does to it's characters of colour at times like what they did to rena's model, etc(trust me i feel the same way at times but saying that mari is white bc she doesn't wear chinese garb etc is really concerning and feels really weird when white fans try to say this bc not allot of ppl who come from different cultures outward go and dress in their ethnic garb at home in all places (and honestly, whenever iusuallysee art of this it's fine but at times it comesoff a bit fetishizy(especially whenever someonetries to draw mari in diferent clothes and all they do is a "certain" style. and it's concerning that y'all have the opposite argument about sabine (even though i also i have qualms about that too.) but then getting angry when poc try to tell y'all to stop drawing characters a certain way (whitewashing (how funny how y'all go on about this and then do it in art or other media by lightening skin colour or changing features) or darkening the skin on a villain alligned character instead of trying to learn from those criticisms is in and of itself, a whole hypocritical mess bc y'all try to make some valid crits of the show but it all goes down the drain when y'all turn around and do this witchhunting/whitewashing bs. Then there's the fact that y'all salters almost always make alya the villain and chloe a support in a huge amount of saltfics without even seeing what kinds of connotations could arise from that. Like do you not see the problem in twisting the main character's best friend who actually has a personality of her own into the villain when she's black and making the lighter skinned bully the hero. At all.

Next onto the sexism (funny thing is its funny how both sides play into this). First we have how the fandom treats Marinette and Adrien. When mishaps happen to Mari, the salty part of the fandom tends to jump up and say that either her classmates are always laughing at her and more complaints that don't make any sense because if y'all have actually watched some parts of the show even, any scene when marinette has a mishap happen to her in front of classmates you'd see they're not laughing at her, but with her. (and you'd think that the nyc special would show y'all that the wouldn't laugh at her accidents or problems if she's in genuine distress.) Then we have the minor villains Felix and Lila with how the fandom still holds onto this merit that canon felix is a good person underneath a cold persona (now this could've been truefor pv!felix or fanon felix and i don't hate him, it actually the opposite, i kinda want to see what other moties the character has in store for us.) what i don't like is how some parts of the fandom put him on a better merit than lila when we don't even know his full character just as yet while we've already gotten to know how shady of a person lila is.

now finally onto the abuse aspect. i saved this one for last bc this is a touchy subject for me at times, in any aspects i can name bc here's the thing, this fandom loves to either: make claims that a certain character (adrien) is not facing any sort of abuse bc he's a guy or that he shouldn't be taking it or he should stand up for it (or worse saying he deserves it and saying that gabriel/lila should continue with it?! looking at 4 or more certain salters who have been getting on my last f-ing nerve with that) and i'm just like please stop and think about it for a second. And i don't want to hear the "it's a tv show" angle which i've heard way too many damn times bc If you were in a situation like that and it starts to escalate, how would you feel if someone online was making fun of your plight online over an over like a damn broken record player hmm? Cause i relate to adrien on a few aspects of his life and seeing y'all repeat the same cold takes about how he could just leave, or how chat blanc can't happen bc gabriel isn't like that is frankly, all too worrying bc i have been in that place and so have many others and seeing y'all say that gabe/lila/nathalie are all morally better bc of certain struggles they face is another hypocritical thing that some of y'all salters need to address bc y'all would rather say these people behave better than an abused kid.

#ml fandom critical #ml fandom #ml fandom salt #ml salt #ml salt on salt #like honestly the hypocriticalness of this fandom aggravates me to no end.#especially since y'all salters never ever own up to y'all's mess and well here's the thing it makes you look like a herd of clowns #and y'all salters have turned something that could genuinely be used to bring valid critique to a show #into a wholeass gaslighting and apologism festival when you either can't find reasons to justify ships or other things #when criticism is NOT about the shit y'all think its about.#miraculous salt #miraculous fandom salt #like the sugar side of the fandom or should i say the sane side of the fandom actually know how to watch a show while still being critical #it's y'all that dont now how you just use the tags to rant on how the show isn't going your way.#and i'm gonna say this.i try to sometimes sweep the shit y'all salters do under the rug at times #bc at face value it seems like you all are actually making some valid critiques then i look at some of the other stuff y'all have done #and it goes down the drain #cause y'all literally send y'all little followers to angry mob anyone who dare speak against you.#like i've been in the fandom when the show fucking started and seeing it go from such a nice community to the cesspool it is now #is distressing.#and also if you're one of those artists who like to send angry mobs to ppl when they don't agree with you you're an idiot. plain and simple #like honestly the show isn't perfect but the way some salters go outta their way to bash it is sad #edit: i got an anon probably pertaining to this post saying that i was mean. that's the point #bc if I'm not assertive and putting my foot down on the problematic salt the fucking salters have put out ppl will ignore it #and continue to support these racist ab*se apologizing mfers.

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 4 years ago

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Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Seven

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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Check out my writing commission information here! Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content! Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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Chapter Index

<<1>> <<2>> <<3>> <<4>> <<5>> <<6>> <<7>> <<8>> <<9>>

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The brief hour-long respite Toshinori had blessed Hizashi with had been just enough to keep him from trekking up to the roof of his agency and either jumping or throwing a couple of idiots off, but the hour had ended and Hizashi was once again contemplating either suicide or murder. He was leaning towards murder since no one would really fault him and, plus, Shouta and Toshinori would even be proud of him for picking that option out of the two!

“Alright. Explain this to me again.” Because Hizashi, despite what people thought, could be patient and understanding. Even on his bad days he did his best to keep his own emotions in check and hear out the people he worked with when a problem occurred. “How did you end up setting one of the lower labs on fire?”

Two support engineers, one support intern, and the director of the lab in question all exchanged looks with one another. The director clutched his clipboard as if he were about to break it in half due to fear and stress before he cleared his throat, “Well, sir, it’s actually a rather intriguing scientific act that caused the… commotion.”

Hizashi resisted the urge to faceplant on his desk and instead cursed everyone in his agency for leaving him to deal with this mess. Typically, in cases like lab destruction, it would be dealt with by someone who actually worked in the support labs. The problem with that, however, was that that person was out sick and that left Hizashi, who understood how the support labs and the items inside worked, to deal with the problem.

Hizashi should have taken the day off sick, too. He should have just finished at school and then gone straight home, but no. He had to be stubborn and noble and care about his job. He was regretting his choices in life more and more with each passing second.

“Present Mic, sir.” The intern, a sweet little thing that looked equal parts nervous and excited with hair sticking up in all directions, gave an encouraging grin. “We actually managed to contain the fire to 67% of the lab, as well as keep all volatile projects safe and discover a quicker-burning fuel that gives a more intense burn for Wildfire. With a bit more tweaking, I have no doubt we could have a fuel that would burn through all three layers of skin, barring any quirk changes or effects, within 2.7 seconds!”

Quiet for a long moment, Hizashi looked up at the lab director, who gave a weak, nervous smile before opening his mouth. He then must have realized that nothing he could say would help the situation because he then closed his mouth and gave an apologetic smile. Hizashi felt his headache, which had been coming in and out all day, give a throb of pain.

“Alright. You,” Hizashi pointed to the director. “Write up a report of this and send it to whoever is in charge of your lab this week -- not me. Include the fact that not everything was destroyed and you’ve discovered something to better help Wildfire. That’ll take some of the heat off of you.” The only one to appreciate his joke with the intern, who gave a snort of startled laughter.

“You two.” Hizashi pointed at the engineers, who straightened up nervously. “See what the damage was to everything and draw up a plan to deal with it. Don’t worry too much about cost right now but do what you can to minimize any losses. Try to reuse any supplies that didn’t end up too bad off in the fire, too. And you.”

Hizashi stared at the intern, who gave him a cheerful, happy little grin. The kid was one of their only first-year interns who had been brought in as a special case and Hizashi could feel himself waver at the bright enthusiasm. Well, no one had said he was strong, really. “Excellent work today, but I want you to write up a one-page essay on fire and lab safety and hand it in to the lab director by your next workday. I also want you to send all the data you collected today to my email with everything you learned.”

While he didn’t need the data, it would be interesting to see those numbers. Typically a fire that burned that hot and that fast only came about through quirks, so it would be interesting to see how far they could push the effectiveness of it. If they did a good enough job then they could have some support equipment that was on par with some of the quirks that came out of Endeavor’s agency, and it was always nice to knock him down a peg or two.

“Yes sir, Present Mic sir! I’ll even be sure to write two pages about the lab and fire safety!” The intern was out of the room like a shot, Hizashi feeling a twitch of a smile before one of the engineers cleared his throat.

“Um, sir?” Oh. Oh, Hizashi did not like that tone. “One of the projects that was, uh, compromised today was meant to be Sonic Whip’s.” Ah. Right. Sonic Whip. One of the most terrifying women that Hizashi had ever had the displeasure to meet and who had a temper shorter than a deranged villain’s. “It was of a rather sensitive nature and… She’s expecting the first prototype tomorrow.”

Hizashi resisted the urge to climb out his office window and escape, instead sucking in a calming breath and grabbing his phone before heading towards the door, “I just remembered I have a meeting.” It was a very important meeting, too; one with his face and a brick wall in the half-forgotten hidden lounge on the bottom floor of the agency.

Thankfully, Hizashi had long since mastered the art of looking like he was on his way to an important meeting, which meant no one tried to stop him as he marched himself through the agency and threw himself down on the first couch he saw in the empty lounge. It was dark, from no one having repaired the lights in a while, it was quiet, where it was tucked away into a back corner with thick walls, and it was always empty where everyone forgot to refill the fridge. It was heaven.

At least, it was heaven until he heard someone collapse on the couch across from him, the sound of a grunt barely being finished before it turned into a surprised, “Yamada! I wouldn’t have thought you were in here with how quiet it was!” Oh, god, it was the only other person in the agency who could be as loud and cheerful as him. This was punishment. It had to be.

Inching his gaze to the side, Hizashi mourned the peace and quiet he had gotten for only a few short minutes as he looked at Shima Hikari, the hero known as Radiant; a light-quirk user that was no doubt going to make his light sensitivity even worse if she felt even the slightest uptick in excitement. She was looking far too cheerful considering her, and the sidekick Hizashi hadn’t even heard at first, looked like they were a few seconds away from hitting the ground in a puddle of exhaustion.

Taking a moment to weigh the options between responding and ignoring her, Hizashi finally let out a sigh with a quiet, “Alright, you two?”

“Peachy keen!” Shima chirped, crossing her legs and then looking over to her sidekick, who had her own legs thrown over one end of the couch and her head resting near Shima’s thigh. Poor kid looked exhausted and Hizashi took a moment to be grateful his own sidekick days were over. Sometimes, even if he truly hated to admit it, he’d rather take the paperwork over dealing with stupid villains and angry cops. “Isn’t that right, Stardust?” The kid gave a pathetic groan that sounded half exhausted and half pained. “That’s the spirit!”

“I think you’ve killed your sidekick,” Hizashi snorted, pushing himself up and biting the inside of his cheek to stop a groan at the throb in his head. “We’re supposed to be careful with those, you know. We only have a limited supply of them.”

Shima huffed, placing a hand against her chest, “Excuse you, I take the utmost care of my sidekicks, thank you very much. At least I don’t load them full of caffeine and sugar and energy drinks and hope they don’t die of exhaustion before the end of a patrol like you do.”

“And yet they love me anyways,” Hizashi snickered, readjusting himself against the couch as he flicked his eyes over the two again. They were both covered with dust and rubble, scratches across all visible parts of their skin. Stardust had one of her ankles tightly wrapped, and Shima had a bandage around her head, but neither of them looked too bad off. “Interesting patrol, then?”

“Started with chasing a purse thief and then he led us all the way to a drug den where a deal was going on between some pretty important figures,” Shima snorted, pulling out her phone and starting to type on it at once. Hizashi couldn’t really blame her since his phone, and Shouta and Toshinori, were the only reasons he was no doubt still sane. “Seriously, though. You’re quiet as shit. What happened? Another lab blew up while you were stuck on report duty?”

“Fire, actually,” Hizashi responded, watching with amusement as Shima’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed and studying him. They then widened with sympathy. Even Stardust, half-asleep as she was, made a noise that sounded sympathetic.

“Oh, fuck, I thought I was just joking.” Yeah, that’s what made it even worse, really. “Everyone alright? Any injuries?”

“No injuries, thankfully.” Hizashi collapsed back on the couch, groaning at the flash of pain in his back. “It’s not the worst lab disaster we’ve ever had but add that on top of everything else that’s been happening, and it’s been a long day.” Plus, his sensory overload, flashes of memory, and trauma were all acting up to make the day try and kill him once and for all.

“We told you, right back at the beginning, to not take that job at U.A.,” Shima lectured, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You already had a full-time job here and with that radio station of yours, and what did you do?”

“I took the job at U.A.,” Hizashi mumbled, wincing as Shima repeated the words even louder. She truly was his punishment in life.

“You took the job at U.A.! Being a teacher is a lifestyle and you’re doing that with two other jobs! Which are also lifestyles!” Shima made a very dismissive tsking noise, Hizashi cracking an eye open to glare at her. “What? I’m right and you know it. Right, Stardust?”

The kid cracked her eyes open, blearily staring between the two of them before looking back to Shima, “Sorry, Shima-san, but I refuse to take sides in an argument with pro-heroes when all three of us work in the same agency.”

Hizashi snorted, the serious tone of voice lifting his mood for a few moments, “Smart kid, Shima. She’s gonna be better than you one day.”

Shima scoffed, beaming and radiating pride as she turned back to her phone, “Yeah, yeah. Oh, you might wanna go get your stuff and get ready to leave, by the way.”

“What?” Why would he leave? Hizashi still had another two hours of his shift at the agency before he had to head over to the radio station. “Why would I-?”

A loud ping from his phone had Hizashi frowning before he was looking down at it, seeing an incoming message from one of the higher ups. It only took a quick scan of the message to see that he was, not-so-politely, being told that he was done for the day, already clocked out, and that his husband was on his way to pick him up so he could ‘get some goddamn rest.’ Shima gave a proud, beaming grin when Hizashi looked up at her. “You’re welcome!”

“I hate you?” Hizashi looked from her to his phone, feeling a shock of warmth at how much the people in his life cared for him. The fact he was already clocked out meant he legally couldn’t even try to get back on his computer and do anymore work for the day without getting into legal trouble. He was legally being told to get out and go get some rest. “Why are you so mean to me?” Which meant once he finished at the radio station he could go home and cuddle up with Shouta and Toshinori and let their warmth and safety drown out everything else.

“Aw, I see you as a friend, too,” Shima cooed, voice softer and quieter. When Hizashi glanced over, he saw she was petting at her sidekick’s head, the girl halfway to being asleep as she breathed softly. “Seriously, though, Yamada. I know what a rough day looks like, so just… take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Hizashi breathed out softly, pulling himself up with a groan. “I’m going to have to actually get you something decent for Christmas, aren’t I?” The ugly snort of laughter had Hizashi managing a larger smile as he shook his head. “Make sure to get some rest yourself, Shima.”

“Just as long as you do, Yamada,” she winked, shooing him out so she could coddle her sidekick even more than she already did. Honestly, Hizashi was waiting for Shima to come in with adoption papers with how she was about that kid.

It wasn’t until Hizashi was halfway to his office that his phone dinged again, this time a message from Shouta with a laughing emoji and a simple, ‘Got kicked out huh?’

‘I was politely told to get the fuck out and get some goddamn rest before I had a heart attack and would need to be replaced,’ Hizashi texted back, trying not to snort as Shouta sent a row of more laughing emojis. It was hilarious that everyone assumed Hizashi was the emoji abuser when Shouta’s texts typically contained an emoji with each line or sentence. ‘You don’t have to come get me.’

‘Too late. Already omw.’ Which meant Shouta had probably left to come and check on him just like Toshinori had even before he had been texted by Hizashi’s agency. ‘Get your things before they lock you out of your office workaholic.’

‘You have no rights to call me that considering your own work ethic.’ Hizashi sent a little emoji of his own before tucking his phone away and heading to get his things. Considering the type of people he worked with, he truly wouldn’t be surprised if they kicked him out before he could so much as grab his bag. They wouldn’t even feel bad about it, they would just laugh at him.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to gather the files he needed and head back down towards the lobby, everyone soundly ignoring him. It wasn’t the first time an agency wide message had been sent out to warn people that Hizashi was getting kicked out and, knowing him and his co-workers, it wouldn’t be the last. Hizashi hated and loved every last one of them.

Hizashi was on the sidewalk when a pair of footsteps fell into step with his own, Hizashi feeling something in him soften and relax at Shouta’s quiet laugh, “Radiant was the one to kick you out, huh? How’d that feel?”

“Like the universe was throwing everything I’ve ever done back in my face,” Hizashi snorted, smiling when Shouta’s shoulder brushed against his own. “I could have finished my shift, you know. It’s not a patrol day.”

“You could have,” Shouta agreed, looking at him with that look of his that was far too understanding. “But you don’t have to. You’re the one always yelling at me about teamwork and cooperation with others, after all, aren’t you?”

“That’s because you try to take on two dozen human traffickers without any backup.” That had been far too nerve wracking of a night, in Hizashi’s opinion. Nemuri, at least, had shared in his suffering when Shouta had ended laid up in the hospital with a concussion and a broken wrist.

“Mm, you all were running late.” Ass, Hizashi thought to himself fondly. “I’d ask if we were going home, but…”

“Radio station,” Hizashi finished, closing his eyes for a moment. As much as he craved going home and finally resting, he still had work to do. He wouldn’t let a bad day ruin all the work he and everyone else he worked with at the station had been doing. Besides, it wasn’t a recording or live day, so there was at least that much.

“You’re lucky you don’t need to record today,” Shouta snorted, reading Hizashi’s mind as he always did. “Alright. Let’s go, then.” Hizashi half-wanted to argue that Shouta didn’t need to come with him, but he knew it was a fight he wouldn’t win.

Hizashi took a breath anyways, getting ready to gather up the energy he would need to ask about Toshinori, and dinner, and how the students were after Shouta had checked on the dorm. Stupidly, though, Hizashi forgot that he was talking to Shouta.

He hadn’t even gotten a word out before Shouta was talking again, firm enough to be heard, but soft enough to make it easy on his headache, “Toshinori made it home alright, by the way. He also started digging up American Sign Language books, but I decided I didn’t even want to ask since I knew I’d hear about it from you later. He’s also starting dinner. For a man who doesn’t eat food typically, he’s a better cook than I would have thought.

“Oh, and I think the kid is gonna kill all the troublemakers in 1-A if they keep trying to kidnap him like they have been,” Shouta continued, Hizashi feeling tension drain out of him as he listened to the man’s voice. “They actually had him trapped in the dorms when I went to check on everything before Nemuri took over watch. He was taped to the chair and making at least two of them do handstands.”

Shouta didn’t stop for a moment, talking softly and damn near rambling as his steps kept time with Hizashi’s, not expecting him to say a single word back in response. It was a routine that was years old and familiar enough that Hizashi could let himself get lost in the words as Shouta led them along to where they needed to go.

His eyes slipped shut for a moment, the phantom feeling of pressure around his throat and leather cutting into his skin damn near gone. He was still exhausted, and stretched thin, and felt like too much at once would put him right back where he had been, but…

The day was almost over and he had Shouta by his side. As far as he was concerned, he would be just fine for a few more hours.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #where i want to be #allerasermic #mha #my hero academia #original #my writing

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laurasinele · 5 years ago

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A Drarry drabble gone rogue. Fictober19 prompts 4 (I know you didn’t ask for this) and 8 (Can you stay?) were chapters 1 and 2. Prompt 27,”Can you wait for me?”, is chapter 3. Chapter 4 is already up, inspired by prompt 31, but I’ll probably post it in a few days here too.

Fandom: Harry Potter saga

Tags: recreational use of alcohol, past crush confessions

Warnings: none that comes to mind

Draco pointed his wand to the ceiling and shot green and silver sparks. He chuckled and rolled to lay on his side, facing Harry.

“That’s about it”.

“Wait, you can’t Accio things? Or even cast a small jinx if you need to defend yourself?”. Harry was laying face down on the mountain of throw pillows they had gathered by the fireplace, and he propped himself up on his elbows while he talked. Draco accidentally blew a raspberry trying to stifle a laugh. Their raiding of the Manor’s cellar had proven to be a great idea.

“Nope. But I can make sparks!”, he said with great excitement before bursting into laughter yet once more. Harry, however, was deeply concerned by the fact, and he showed it profusely, as only drunks can show concern.

“No, no, no”, he said grabbing and shaking Draco’s shoulder. “Don’t laugh! It’s terrible! You can’t do shit!”.

Draco almost choked from laughing so hard.

“You’re so pissed! And pissed!”. He kept laughing with renewed strength.

“Mate, you can’t even FLY!”

“What? Of course I can’t fly, Potter! I’m under house arrest!”

b Harry blinked slowly. Draco’s words eventually reached his inebriated brain, he snorted and collapsed onto his face, cackling along with Draco. When the fit of laughter subsided, Draco wiped a mirthful tear from the corner of his eye, sighed and said:

“Seriously though, I don’t really miss it. Almost every basic charm is allowed and most of the self-care and survival spells too, so I can get chores done and keep myself healthy and safe. And entertained”, he chuckled as he produced some more coloured sparks. “Sometimes I wish I could shrink something, or levitate bigger things. Or Accio stuff I’m not really sure where in this dastardly big house is sitting. But it’s not as if I’ll ever use many more spells when the arrest is lifted”.

“What would you like to do then?”

“I haven’t thought about it for a long while now. At first it was all I could think of. I thought it would help me stay sane. I thought about investment, maybe involving muggle stock options. Investment was the family business when we weren’t consorting with genocidal madmen. That, and politics but I can’t do that for obvious reasons. Then my father died and I decided I’ll stay away of anything he ever did. I considered art, but I suck at muggle techniques and when I try to paint, dance or compose magically, it all turns into dark, depressing stuff”.

“Yeah”, said Harry sympathetically. “Hermione told me that happens when you go through a major trauma by dark magic”.

Draco nodded and inadvertently adopted a more serious, almost academical tone.

“Exactly. There is a lot of literature about it”, he said waving his hand to the shelves, packed with books and scrolls. Harry had learned those were only the ones Draco wanted to keep at hand, and somewhere in the manor there was an immense library. “That led me to consider a career in healing, specifically treating this kind of trauma. I always was good at potions and–”

“Well, you got good grades but…”

“I’ve already told I’m good at it, it wasn’t because of Severus favoritism so drop it already you moron”, said Draco without real bite. Harry rose his hands in mock-surrender, wearing a toothy grin. “Good. The thing is I’ve been thinking about all this again since you first mentioned your therapist. I’m trying to find more information and see if there is a way to make healing charms, healing potions and muggle psychiatry work together, because magical healing has always disregarded mental and emotional problems. But it’s just, you know… Something to keep myself busy. I don’t think the Ministry would consider seriously anything I suggested”.

Harry looked earnestly impressed, to the point of needing a couple of seconds to give an articulated reply.

“That’s… That’s actually a great idea. I could talk to Hermione and Martha, that’s my therapist. I’m sure they’d be interested. It would mean taking their program one step further to reach the whole magical community. They could help you in your research and back you up before the Ministry”.

Draco scoffed.

“Oh, come on, Potter. It’s not as if I can propose a bill while serving my sentence.”

“Actually, I don’t think there is any law against that”, replied Harry, appearing to Draco full of conviction and somehow eager for him to jump into it. He felt equally endeared and unsettled. He felt fear of disappointing someone for the first time since the end of the war.

“I don’t know”, he said non-commitantly. “I’ll think about it. What about you, what are your prospects in life?”, he asked impulsively, out of desire to change the subject and move the attention away from him.

Gradually coming down from his drunkenness, Harry huffed at that and made himself comfortable on the scattered pillows, rearranging them absentmindedly while he contemplated his answer.

“Truth is, I don’t really think about it either. I mean, I’m not trying to play the victim in front of someone who is deprived of his freedom...”, Harry said dramatically. Draco kicked him playfully as he groaned “Oh, fuck off”, and waited for him to talk seriously with a snarky smile on his face. “Well, my life before school was shit. I was sort of an elf. A very mistreated one. I had no way to know things could get better and, when they did, all the ‘Boy who lived’ bullshit came crashing down on me. I never really had time to think about it properly. I sort of followed the logical path. I don’t love it, though. It gets frustrating and repetitive. Hermione suggested teaching Defense. Ron says I should have gone pro at quidditch”.

“You were good, that’s a fact”, Draco conceded. Then, before he could catch himself, a belly full of chocolate, sugar and wine, and a brain addled by several hours of lounging by the fire got the best of him, speaking his thoughts out loud: “And you looked so fit”. He immediately slapped his mouth shut, but Harry was already prepared to taunt him, eyes shining with mischief and a wide open smile.

“No bloody way! You liked me?”

“Shut up!”

“Never! You, always so posh and entitled, liked me, a walking disaster! This is hilarious!”

“It’s not!”, exclaimed Draco. It came out muffled because he was covering his beet red face.

“I thought you said you were into Cedric. Is it some kind of kink? Like a seeker kink?”

Draco sent an onslaught of blind slaps in Harry’s direction.

“Would you just shut it, Potter!”

“Not in a million years! This is gold, Malfoy!”.

Draco pouted comedically.

“Aw, alright, don’t be upset”, said Harry between giggles as he held Draco close, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “If it makes you feel better, I had a small crush/massive hate thing going on about you”.

Draco stiffened almost imperceptibly, but Harry noticed it because he had stiffened to upon hearing his own words and realising what their current position was. They remained silent a long while, neither of them moving, listening to each other’s hearts beating wildly with shock and something akin to expectation. Finally Draco pushed lightly back and Harry parted his arms so he could move. They were looking at each other now, not much more than two inches apart. Draco was the first to break the silence.

“Either if I ask you this or not, I think I will regret it forever. So I’m going to go ahead and do it, if that’s alright.” Harry nodded, Draco took a deep breath. “Would it be wrong if I kissed you right now?”

Harry remained silent, looking into Draco’s eyes totally transfixed. He took such a long time to react that Draco was about to panic, but he finally let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, rested his forehead on Draco’s and closed his eyes.

“Please, do kiss me, I’d like that very much”, he whispered.

“Okay”, mumbled Draco, and he closed the distance between their lips, only to stop in the last beat by a hitch in Harry’s breath.

“We can’t”, said Harry. He sounded angry and defeated. “I’m an auror and you are a convict”.

“I think you’ll agree with me in that we are so much more than that”, replied Draco softly.

“I do, but even if you consent to it, there are wards against this. I’d be forcibly removed from here and wouldn’t be able to come and see you for the rest of your penance”. Draco closed his eyes and channeled his present frustration in one long exhale, nestling his head under Harry’s chin. Harry tightened his embrace. “I’ll wait if you do”, he said feebly, bracing himself fo Draco to say it was just a stupid teenage crush rekindled by drinking and fishing out memories. But Draco, pressed against his chest, snorted.

“I’ve got nothing else to do other than wait, and waiting for you is far more enticing than my current prospects. But you?”, he asked as he backed a little and found Harry’s gaze. “Saviour of the Wizarding Britain, most powerful wizard alive and most eligible bachelor of our generation. Can you wait for me?”.

He wasn’t demanding for Harry to wait. He wasn’t doubting his word either. He was just kindly offering him a way out, which Harry refused. He held Draco tightly and buried his head in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as Draco’s hands found their way up to his shoulder blades.

“Let’s just pause this. I’ll keep coming for counselling. I’ll keep pretending I don’t notice you’re low key flirting with me, and I’ll keep low key flirting back. I’ll keep watching you grow and heal, and I’ll keep growing and healing myself. I’ll keep treasuring our friendship that I would have never seen coming. Two years from now, when the house arrest is lifted, ask me again”.

#fictober19 #drarry #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #drarry fandom #multichapter

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bucky-iss-bae · 6 years ago

Text

Little Miss CEO - (Billy Russo x Reader) - Part 7

Part 7 of Little Miss CEO - Hope you all enjoy x

Fandom: Marvels The PunisherBill

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 1500ish (Sorry it’s short compared to other parts)

Warnings: Ever so slightly underlinings of sex, but honestly nothing at allll maybe a few swears.

Summary: Billy and Y/N get set up by their friends, but they clash heads more than they get on. He thinks she’s a gold digger bitch and she thinks he’s Mr Obnoxious, are either of them, everyone else thinks that they’re too stubborn for their own good and probably get on.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is welcome x Sorry for taking like a month, it’s been written and honestly should’ve posted this long ago, but yeah, I got catching up to doooo

Masterlist

Little Miss CEO - Part 6

Part 7

The journey was nice, he eventually got over it, we put on some music, turns out Billy isn’t much of a singer, or so he says until a song he likes comes on and he starts murmuring along to it compared to me and my singing.

My sister’s house was on a row full of beautiful perfect white picket fenced houses. I had only been here a few times, a few days when she was moving in a few months ago, then a little while after to again help with the decorating with my brothers, that ended in a pizza party for the little kids, and a good old gossip session between Kai, myself and Brie.

“Damn, this neighbourhood looks like something taken out of a TV show.”

“It’s nice isn’t it” I agreed with him,

We got out the car and I grabbed his hand in mine, he looked down at me and smiled before I walked up to knock on her door.

A few seconds later my little niece came and opened the door,

“Hey little lady,” I said picking her up to hug her,

She just giggled, “I knew it was you. Momma told me you were coming and I’ve been soo excited” she said exaggerating the ‘soo’

“Yeah well, your momma told me that you’ve been sooo excited for this party because you get to see me”

She nodded her head before looking at Billy and looked at me before coming close to my head, “Who’s he?” She whispered into my ear, although it sounded nothing like a whisper.

“This is my... friend Billy. You need to be nice to him because he’s my absolute best friend” This kid hopefully doesn’t know what boyfriend and girlfriends are because she’s 4. They should be clueless so a best friend will be enough

She jumped down from me and looked at him with narrowed eyes, “You’re not Auntie Y/N’s best friend. I am!”

He looked at me before looking at her and I just smiled, “Mia, he’s a different type of best friend. Don’t worry he’s not taking your place”

She stopped and looked at me and then him, “So like... a best boyfriend?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Yes hunny exactly like that”

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand and started to giggle, “JERMeyyyy” She yelled, “Auntie Y/N has a boyfriend” She screamed running through the house,

My eyes widened and I looked at him before I followed her with Billy beside me.

“So the younger niece?” He asked, “Not going to lie, the way she looked at me has me a little scared, maybe because she’s your family.”

I laughed, “She’s a little diva. Her brother the same, he’ll try to interrogate you”

I walked through to the kitchen and saw that the food was all nearly all prepped, “Mia, what have I said about opening the door” Brie yelled walking through the house and stopped when she saw me, “Oh my gosh” She then squealed once she saw me running to hug me, I hugged back “I’ve missed you, and you keep me sane and thank you for coming here because I can’t control the kids whilst they’re hopped up on sugar because it’s difficult keeping the food away from them on days like today and I missed you” She rambled out,

I laughed and hugged her back, “Don’t worry, I can look after the kids while you get everything settled. How are you?” She pulled away and huffed,

“I’m stressed because I was on call last night. So I got in at 3am, and Mia woke up at 7am, and I was like ok, cool, sat her in front of the TV, don’t judge my parenting, but started prepping all the food that the caterers dropped off, Dave made sure the house was tidy and everything, I’m not having any snoopy bitches going through this house so I’m giving you the master key, every door aside from the downstairs bathroom will be locked and I regret being such a nice person and inviting so many people, but I just... that’s me you get me?”

“Yeah, I need to teach you how to say no to people or to stop making sure everyone else is happy”

She groaned, “I know it’ll be nice later, I know it will but the prepping beforehand is long, also I’m so sorry, hi, I’m Brie, her little sister, who is also quite embarrassed right now, I promise you that this isn’t usually this bad, I just... if I knew she was bringing someone” She said turning to me before going back to him, “I would’ve told her to come later so you wouldn’t have to wait around for us and see how bad her family really is” She said greeting Billy,

“Hi” he said shaking her hand a charming smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got a lot going on. And I’m Billy by the way, Y/N’s plus one, and sorry to intrude” He said glancing at me,

“Uh huh, you’re not intruding anything, if you treat my sister right, you’re welcome anytime, andd” She said looking between us two, “Is that why Mia was running around singing that you’ve got a boyfriend?” She asked me and I felt my cheeks going a little red.

“Yeah, you heard her right” I said to my sister,

“Do Kai and Tommy know?” She asked me with a smirk, “You remember the grilling they gave Dave right? Ohhh Billy, hate to break it to you but you’ve got a long day ahead of you”

“They’re not saying anything to him. You’re their little sister, it’s different, I basically raised those boys so they can’t say shit” I said to her,

She rose her eyebrows before looking at Billy, “Good luck. You’ll need it. I mean a heads up, Kai is easier to get comfortable with but he’s still watching you, then with Tommy as soon as you get past the initial grilling he’ll be great”

“Great, just when I thought the nerves had gone” He mumbled,

“Whos this?” Someone asked from behind me and Billy, we both turned and Dave was there my sisters husband, he’s a nice guy, pretty big and intimidating, but nice.

“Hey Dave.” I said hugging him, “This is Billy, the guy I’m seeing, and Billy the is Dave, my sister’s husband” I explained,

“Nice to meet you” Billy said putting out his hand, Dave took it and shook it, “Nice to meet you, how long you two been together for?” He asked,

“It’s still early days” I explained to Dave, “But we’ve known each other for a few months now”

“Ah yeah? How did you meet? Don’t tell me he’s one of your clients” He said looking a little concerned,

“No, so you know Karen?” I asked and they both nodded, “Well, her partner Frank, this is best friend” I explained,

“Ohh, damn, ok cool. So what do you do?” Dave asked Billy,

“I own a company called Anvil” Billy explained to Dave,

“I’ve heard of that” Dave muttered looking like he was thinking, I looked at Brie and she looked back at me a small smirk on her face, she obviously knew who he was, this woman had gone into stalker mode to find out who he was, she probably knew all about him, his past, his business, and any secrets she could through the world wide web, and maybe she even broke a few rules at the hospital to get his records up. She’s dumb like that but smart enough to cover he tracks. And I’m pretty sure Tommy has also done the same since I last spoke to him, but more like getting records that she couldnt. Between Brie, Tommy and Kai, they all probably managed to get as much of his life story as they could.

“Is it Billy Russo?” Dave asked him and Billy nodded, “Damn you were on the news a while ago weren’t you?” He asked,

“Yeah, a bit of a bad stage in my life” Billy explained looking slightly uncomfortable,

“But you were a marine right?” Dave then went on to ask before clapping his shoulder, “Pretty sure this guy won’t have Kai hating him too long then”

Billy looked at me, “He’s the one that didn’t call you at dinner right?”

I shook my head, “That was Tommy, also speaking of them, when are they getting here?”

“They should be here” Brianna told me, “Also for real, although they’re protective over her, you have nothing to worry about as long as you treat her right ok”

“Don’t worry, I’m not a scumbag, I’ll treat her like a queen” he said kissing the side of my head,

My heart melted a little bit, I haven’t been in a relationship in so long, any dates I have are always set up, and although this initially was it didn’t work out. Business then pushed us closer together.

A few seconds later there was some screaming and two little kids running into the kitchen, “MOOOMMMM, tell MIIIAAA, ew are you Auntie Y/Ns boyfriend, I thought she was lying” Jeremiah said stopping in the kitchen and looking at Billy.

My jaw dropped at him and Billy looked a little shocked, “Jeremiah, don’t be so disrespectful, and apologise”

“Noooo” He whined, “I’m going to go tell Tommy and Kai. They’ll get rid of him” Jeremiah said narrowing his eyes at Billy,

“Alright kid, that’s enough,” I said to Jeremiah, “Be nice to Billy because he’s been nice to me ok. And I’m sure Tommy and Kai won’t need to scare him off because you all acting the way you are right now is enough to do that.”

Jeremiah huffed out a sigh, he looked at his dad who also nodded before he went to stand in front of Bill an put his hand out to shake it, “I need to be nice to you and I will. So I’m Jeremiah, and you need to treat Auntie Y/N nicely because she hasn’t had a boyfriend before so you know.... she probably hates boys so be careful”

Nothing of what he just said made sense but Billy just laughed and shook Jeremiah's hand, “Hello Jeremiah, I’m Billy, and I promise I’ll be good”

Jeremiah nodded and smiled, “Mom, I was going to say that Mia is being annoying. She won’t get out of my room”

“Yes I did. I’m right here” Mia said from beside her dad who picked up her, she had a proud smirk on her face and everything about her screamed that she was daddies little girl.

Jer just glared at her before looking at his mom, “Tell her to stop”

“Baby she will, you go get ready, or do you need help?”

“I don’t need help” he grumbled whilst walking off,

After he walked of Brie shook her head and I laughed a little before looking at Billy, “I would apologise for him, but I found it too cute, although he did violate me in the process”

Billy laughed a little, “Yeah, I don’t actually think I’ve asked when you last had a boyfriend” Billy said smirking slightly,

“No, I think we both know my ‘boyfriend’ has been my work”

“Don’t even start on that” Brie said while looking at Billy, “I’m assuming she knows how much she works. I was shocked when she said she would have time to come, and I’m honestly even more shocked that she’s bought someone with her”

“Yeah, I thought I was bad, but then I’m the one bringing her lunch every other day when she’s too caught up with clients, and well Karen and Frank persuaded her” he smirked at me.

“Awhh” Brie said covering her heart with her hand, “You’re like a cute young couple. And I miss that” She whined,

I looked at him and he looked at me, “We’re a cute couple I’ll say that”

He just winked at me, “Forgetting the young part there”

“Well, don’t want to be lying now do I?” I asked, “I mean your beard puts on a few years” I said with a smirk,

“Thought you were into beards?” Brie asked whilst organising her food,

Billy just laughed, “Now, there is something I forgot, Karen or Frank mentioned it when we first met”

I just narrowed my eyes at him but still had a smile on my face.

I then started to help Brie, Dave went to sort the kids out, and Billy was also helping here and there where he could. I was happy that he clicked with Brie, mainly because she was teasing him and he took it lightly, and he threw a few jokes around himself.

Not long later after she had everything sorted and organised with the food, Billy helped take everything outside, the kids were settled and everything looked good. As soon as it turned 2pm, the music was on, and people started walking through to the garden. Brianna had put up signs that led everyone around towards the back so no one nosy would walk through her house and ended up taking a detour. Although it was a house warming party she knew that it wasn’t. It was low-key a cookout, I should’ve gotten Karen and Frank to both join us, next time I will.

Little Miss CEO Part 8 - FINAL PART

Tagged List for ‘Little Miss CEO’

@thebabblingbookworm @bilesxbilinskixlahey @utterlyhopeful @supermassiveblackhope

If you want to be tagged in the final part, send a message my way xoxo

A/N: ONE MORE PART LEFFFTTTT,

Then I’ll be adding in random bonus chapters for the fun of it, I’ll make this its own master list just so it’s a bit more organised hope you all enjoyed, and feedback is more than welcome xoxo

#Billy Russo x Reader #Billy Russo #billy russo fluff #Little Miss CEO #Billy Russo Fic #Billy Russo Imagine #Billy Russo x Y/N #The Punisher #The Punisher Fic #Marvel #Marvel Imagine #Billy russo x You #Jigsaw

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bonjourxrenae · 7 years ago

Text

Strawberries and Cream (LietPol)

FANDOM: Hetalia

PAIRING: Lithuania/Poland

RATED: General Audiences/Teen (for some mild innuendo?)

WORD COUNT: 3,462

SUMMARY: Drabble. Lithuania and Poland, as domestic partners, wake up one morning and make strawberry waffles for breakfast.

The house groaned and creaked to life. From inside the walls tiny things scratched at the paneling and pipes flushed loudly with the sound of water. He extended his arms and legs as far as they could go, squeezing his eyes shut tight before he rolled over into something warm and soft. As he nestled into it, he was met with soft, familiar laughter and fingernails raking gently through his dark brown hair. Lithuania grinned and leaned his head into it, humming himself awake as warm air blew against his ear.

“Liiiiiet,” Poland chided in the hush of a whisper, “wake up already, I’m starving!”

Written for @lietpolweek, Day 1: Domestic

(Also available to read on AO3!)

Saturday mornings, for anyone sane, were reserved for sleeping in and stretching out in the expanse of a large, comfortable bed. Mornings like these were more for those who appreciated the glorious sights of nature: the hush of the wind against the grass, the rolling hills of gold outside the window in the summer, the thick scent of flowers in the spring.

Although he was one of those early risers, the whole idea of sleeping in was much too vital for Lithuania to pass up, especially after the most recent all-nighter he’d pulled. Waking up late, well rested, and completely relaxed was something completely foreign to him—something strange and pleasant, especially in the early hours when he woke up and realized he could easily sleep until noon.

“Liiiiiet,” Poland chided in the hush of a whisper, “wake up already, I’m starving!”

The low guttal growling of an empty stomach sounded on cue.

Lithuania opened his eyes, propped himself up in bed, and smoothed out his hair. He looked up at his partner with an apologetic grin. “Sorry,” he laughed, “I must’ve needed that sleep…”

“I’ll say.” Poland crossed his arms, nodding in agreement. “You’ve been staying up for forever doing stupid paperwork for your boss. It’s really cutting into your feed-your-husband time, and it’s not cool.”

Lithuania beamed and reached up a hand to ruffle Poland’s shiny blonde hair, and laughed when he made a fuss and smacked his hand away.

“All right,” he decided with a waking strain in his voice, “then let’s go make something to eat.”

Poland gave him a strong look and smirked. “Soooo… you gonna use those strawberries we got to make strawberry waffles like you promised yesterday?” He shifted up to stand on his knees, rustling the pastel floral-printed sheets aside with his legs, half-lidded eyes glowing.

Rolling his eyes, Lithuania replied, “Would I make anything else?”

Poland’s grin grew wide and he grabbed hold of Lithuania’s wrists. “Then come onnn! My stomach’s growling!” he growled playfully as he tugged and pulled him up out of bed.

His partner’s overenthusiastic ways of getting him to move caused Lithuania to trip and topple over on top of him. He dragged down the bed sheets he was tangled up in and a peculiar pair of pink woolen socks in his hand: soft, knit with a white pattern lining the top and two soft puffs of white hanging down by thick braided threads at the sides. He was quick to identify the socks; after all they were a gift he’d given many years ago. He was half-surprised that Poland still wore them and not-so-surprised to find that they always wound up buried somewhere in his bed.

He slowly lifted himself off of Poland, unable to register the decidedly wicked gleam in his eyes until Lithuania looked down and realized just how compromising his landing had been. He quickly flushed, apologized profusely (to which a quip was made about how funny his face looked,) and dropped the socks on Poland’s nose.

“Hey!” Poland exclaimed as he and Lithuania untangled themselves from each other, “I’ve been looking everywhere for those! I swear, last week I was like, ‘where the hell are my socks?’ I thought the dryer ate them!”

As Lithuania offered him a hand to help him off the floor, Poland continued his rant: “America told me - that England told him once - that there’s a troll that steals the socks from your laundry for a snack… ugh, imagine if a grody old laundry monster like that ate these cute socks! How awful would that be! Right, Liet?”

Lithuania simply nodded in agreement, whether to the idea of a laundry troll being ‘grody’ or to confirm the cuteness of the socks remained vague.

Poland struggled with getting the socks on his feet as he talked and attempted to drag Lithuania down the stairs into the kitchen. This resulted in many pauses between steps, words, and ungraceful hops. He would have tripped down the stairs if their arms weren’t so steadily linked.

When they walked in Lithuania noticed how the warming heart-shaped waffle iron, a bowl of batter, a pastry bag filled with whipped cream, two large empty plates, and a bowl overflowing with plump red strawberries were ready and waiting on the countertop. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he was seeing things correctly.

“Poland?” he interjected.

Poland spun around on the balls of his heels and pouted upon being interrupted midway through a riveting fantasy about riding on a pony made entirely of laundry. “What?” he grumbled, but softened considerably when he’d realized how his voice came out. Poland looked away and murmured something like an apology before trying again, “I mean, what’s up?”

Finding his smile Lithuania gestured toward the arrangement on the countertop. “Thank you… I’m sorry I made you wait so long… I would’ve taken care of it if you woke me up earlier.”

Poland glanced between the preparations he’d made and the kind look on his partner’s face. He began to laugh in a loud voice, “Oh! That! Haha! I mean, you’re welcome and all that, Liet, but really it was no big deal and you really looked—”

The fluidity of the arms wrapping across his chest, the gentle tug backward that his feet obeyed without a second thought, and the tenderness in the light embrace was enough to get Poland to stop talking except to lamely finish his sentence, “—like you needed to sleep…”

Lithuania nuzzled his chin on Poland’s shoulder, grinning into his cheek. “I really appreciate it,” he said warmly. Poland laughed quietly and lowered his gaze, as if some combination of the two would keep the telltale warmth from creeping up his face.

At last, Lithuania unwrapped his arms and chuckled, “You want to help?”

Poland somehow brought himself down off his cloud, shrugged off his embarrassment, and replied with a nonchalant, “Yeah, sure.” He leaned against the counter, watching his partner tie on an old kitchen apron and roll up his sleeves.

A devious scheme began to hatch in his brain.

While Lithuania was busying himself cleaning his hands and cleaning a fruit knife, Poland stole a strawberry from the bowl and inconspicuously took a large bite. Each time Lithuania’s eyes flickered dangerously in his direction— each time he reached into the bowl to cut the strawberries— Poland made sure not to get caught stealing the red fruit, and the moment Lithuania turned back to his task, one more strawberry disappeared.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten through slicing all but one strawberry that Lithuania looked over at Poland, who was smiling innocently with puffed cheeks. A pink trail of juice dripped down his chin.

“Poland,” he sighed, placing the knife beside the strawberry dish as he ladled one spoonful of the goopy batter into the waffle iron. It gave off a deep fizzing noise as he closed the lid. In a rushed flourish, Lithuania took up a napkin and rubbed motherly at his partner’s face as he chewed and swallowed away the evidence. “We can’t have strawberry waffles if you keep eating the strawberries…”

Poland shooed him away, flashing an impish grin up in his direction. With a lick of his lips he defiantly stole the last strawberry. “Chill out Liet,” he said, “we’ve got more than enough strawberries here… you should try one too.”

Before he could decline the offer, the tip of the strawberry in question was already pressed against his lips, tracing and coaxing them open as guided by the expertise of Poland’s delicate fingers.

This gesture— done many times before in their youth with bleeding raspberries, plump young fingers, and a little more brazenness�� continued to tease Lithuania until his mouth finally surrendered, opened, and closed down on the fruit. He felt the rough texture of the seeds peel off on his teeth and the cool sweet juice simmering delicately against his tongue. His bright eyes were fixed on Poland as he felt him tug lightly on the leaves. Compliantly he pulled away from the strawberry stub with an ungraceful slurp as the juice ran down the corners of his mouth.

Lithuania lifted a finger to staunch the flow but the grip on his wrist stopped him. “Let me,” Poland insisted, and the warm, unrushed swipe of a soft knuckle caught the flavored tear of juice from falling. As Poland kissed his finger clean with the smallest swipe of his tongue, Lithuania felt his throat go dry. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring so intently until he heard snickering.

“That sure is some face you’re making,” Poland murmured, his grin coyly peeking out from over his fingers.

Lithuania bit back a fit of stuttering and reached for the sugar in the cupboard. He sprinkled some on top of the freshly cut strawberries in the bowl, their scent thick and the taste staining his mouth. As he worked, he was unaware that Poland was still watching him, unable to hold back an admiring smile.

Lithuania nodded toward the iron as it stopped steaming. “I think the first waffle’s done. Why don’t you start another?”

Clicking his teeth, Poland rifled through the silverware drawer and removed a fork. “Whatever you say, Liet,” he chirped as he opened the waffle iron to discover the crispy, golden clover of waffles. He hummed a tune as he removed them, placing them gently on one of the empty plates. “I call dibs on the first waffle,” he declared, grinning as he poured more batter over the iron.

Lithuania only laughed. “Just how many do you plan on having?” he asked.

Poland thought about it. He replied, in a deadpan voice, “All of them. I want all of them, Liet.”

His partner gave him a flat look. “I don’t think our fridge can hold all of the waffles.”

Poland frowned, closed the iron, and wandered back to his plate of waffles. From there his imagination wandered.

“Look, Liet,” he said, tilting a heart-shaped waffle on its side, “these waffles totally look like your house.”

Lithuania did not look up as he began cleaning the countertop, but he chuckled at the strange observation. “No they don’t,” he replied.

“Yeah they do! If you just look at ‘em sideways you’d see—”

The steam stopped rising from the iron, interrupting his train of thought. He resumed his waffle-removing duties and, once the fluffy, crunchy waffle was out, he brought the new plate over to Lithuania with a bit of a frown. “…Yours came out better,” he said after a moment.

Lithuania smiled down at him and gently threaded his fingers through his hair. He suggested, “Have mine, then. I’ll take yours.”

Poland looked up at him, down at the plate currently in his hands, then smirked back up. “Nah,” he said.

With a small smirk, Lithuania’s hand gently ruffled his partner’s hair. “I insist,” he encouraged as Poland swatted it away. “Just decide which plate you want, Po, then we can eat.”

Poland chuckled and pushed the plate into Lithuania’s hands before trotting back to fetch his own.

They fixed their waffles: Lithuania helped himself to a moderate serving of strawberries and large puffs of whipped cream; Poland topped his with a mountain of fruit, a long coil of whipped cream, and a generous drizzling of juice all while singing a tune with the word ‘waffle’ as every other word – a song that made Lithuania laugh softly and join in with his own improvised verses.

They took their seats with an exchanged laugh or two, nothing forced, just as habitual and sincere as if they’d never spent all those years apart. Lithuania cut apart a small honeycomb of waffle and brought the fork to his mouth, only to have another square intercept it. Poland leaned over the table and motioned his fork-full of waffles toward his partner.

“You insisted I have some of your waffle, so I’m gonna have to take you up on that,” he explained with a catlike grin, “but I just decided I want you to have some of mine too. That way we’re even.”

Lithuania rolled his eyes, standing a bit in his chair so that he could inch his waffles toward Poland. He leaned forward a bit too much, resulting in the coating of his partner’s nose and mouth in a smattering of pink-tinged cream.

Poland laughed and licked his lips clean. “You’re such a bad shot, Liet,” he joked, leaning slightly away from the small waffle square on the fork before him. He arched an eyebrow. “Or maybe you like this sort of image?”

Lithuania began to laugh, one of the hardest laughs he’d had all morning, and he shook his head. “Po, please stop making breakfast sexual.”

“I can’t promise that when there’s whipped cream involved. Now come on, let me have a taste.” He closed his eyes and, leaning forward, he ate the waffle square entirely.

Though he felt incredibly silly feeding his partner like this, there was something in the way Poland slowly drew his lips from the silverware that Lithuania found impossible to ignore. But the moment shifted, and he did have to stifle yet another bout of laughter as Poland let out an overdone low moan and a melodramatic, “Oh my Godddd! Liet, it’s sooo goood!” Afterwards, he brushed the cream off his nose with his finger, and wiped it off on Lithuania’s nose. This was received with a startled, playful cry of protest.

Poland then leaned forward, guiding his fork. “Alright, your turn,” he announced.

Lithuania obediently rose to meet the waffles and he bit down on them in the same fashion, shying away when his gaze met with those grinning green eyes. Suddenly it felt ridiculously foolish to be fed like this. He shrank back in his seat with burning ears, but couldn’t help smiling at the sweet taste and the light and fluffy scent of sugar at the tip of his nose.

When he looked up he found Poland making a face very similar to the one he used for doting on the horses back at the stables. “Your face—”

“—I know, I know, it looks funny.”

Poland pouted and replied, “Umm no? It was cute… obviously.”

Lithuania blinked a few times, trying to comprehend how eating could look cute and why such a thing would be obvious.

“Now that face is by far the funniest!” Poland had quickly snapped out of his endearing expression and now doubled over with chuckles.

Lithuania gave him a strange look but he couldn’t hold a straight face for long. By far the contagiousness of Poland’s laughter was rivaled only by America’s hearty guffaw. And, though he gauged faces on a weird scale, he couldn’t help but smile at those little peculiarities that he’d grown to know over the hundreds and thousands of years since they first began living together.

They resumed eating from their own plates as Poland prattled on, providing random and completely left-fielded observations about their friends and neighbors. It was all unimportant drabble of course, even when said using a dramatic voice to make the gossip even juicier. Though their conversations were mostly one-sided, sometimes the things that Poland commented on were amusing enough for the both of them.

Poland skewered the last remaining square of waffle on his plate and offered it to Lithuania, who simply stared at it. “Again?”

He nodded in confirmation and rose from his seat. Poland quickly strode over to the other end of the table, a hand under the waffle to catch the juice dripping down, and he offered it again with much more stability. Before Lithuania could take a bite he teasingly pulled his fork away.

“This time, close your eyes,” he said with a playful smirk. When he was asked why, Poland simply replied, “Just do it.”

Lithuania uncertainly closed his eyes, lips parted in anticipation. He heard Poland ask, “Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“You’re not peeking, are you?”

This drew another laugh from him. “I’m not peeking.”

“Good. Don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”

“Alright.”

The waffles were pressed to his lips and Lithuania ate them accordingly. By the time he’d finished swallowing he noticed a fragrant breath of air on his cheeks. Lithuania flinched only slightly when he felt a familiar pressure slowly crawling onto his lap.

“Poland?” he asked, and he was answered with more sweetness pressed against his lips.

It didn’t occur to him until he’d felt the warmth behind it, the thin fingers sliding up his cheek, and the slight backward tilt of his chair that he wasn’t being fed any more waffles.

Lithuania went dizzy with the color rushing to his cheeks once he’d made the connection. The sugariness that frosted their lips made him more eager to kiss him back several times in succession. He felt weak, warm, and... absolutely silly. He allowed his hands to wander up Poland’s back, pulling him closer – an action that drew a small, surprised laugh from his partner. They smiled, lips pressed together, tongues gently tasting the traces of strawberry and whipped cream.

All this time he’d spent knee-deep in paperwork and trying to stay financially stable, he suddenly began to wonder how he could miss the little things like socks in his bed, the smells of strawberries, how sideways hearts most definitely resembled his house, and what muscles in his face were strained and teased for making him look funny. All these things he missed that Poland picked up on… they were all so simple, so nice...

When they’d finally parted for breath, Lithuania’s eyes fluttered open. He found Poland looking down at his hands, red-faced, smiling as if he were very pleased with himself. They met each other eye to eye, fondly regarding that glint of contentment they saw in each other. Maybe that was the reason why Poland had been attempting to help out a lot lately, now that he thought about it. He’d been telling him to relax more, something that was admittedly hard to do with the world surrounding them as crazy as it was, but now that it was just the two of them sharing breakfast, laughing as they had done back under blue skies and golden fields, it was a lot easier to believe that maybe everything didn’t have to be so hard.

Maybe (perish the thought,) he had been taking everything a little too seriously.

He didn’t mean to read too deep into the matter. Luckily a small bout of laughter interrupted his train of thought. Poland was grinning like an idiot as he chimed in. “Not gonna lie, you taste like strawberries.”

The observation was a welcome non-sequitir, even if it made Lithuania a bit flustered. “Well,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his head with embarrassment, “you taste like cream.”

Another series of snickers escaped and Poland soon found himself linking his arms around Lithuania’s neck, brushing noses with him. “It’s a sign, Liet,” he smirked, rocking him back and forth, “you complete me.”

Lithuania shook his head. “I think you meant you ‘compliment’ me.”

But Poland was insistent, “No, I meant you complete me – you can’t have strawberries without cream.”

“Well… they are definitely better together,” Lithuania quietly agreed with a smile. Poland’s grin only grew and he mussed up Lithuania’s hair with a light-hearted, silly laugh, carefully sliding out of his lap. “Finish your waffles, Liet, before I eat them,” he teased.

Lithuania nodded, tilting his head slightly at a strawberry that had fallen off his fork.

“Hey Poland,” he began without thinking on it too much, pointing at it, “this strawberry kind of looks like my house.”

Poland scrunched his face up as he tried to see it, fixing his eyes on the small strawberry slice before fluffing up Lithuania’s hair again out of spite. “You’re such a dork sometimes,” he laughed.

And as he ate the strawberry and looked up at the redness still blooming on Poland’s cheeks, Lithuania had to confess that, while he could be a bit of an oddball at times, there were a few moments where his partner had his moments of genius.

Strawberry waffles were definitely one of his better ideas, he decided.

#LietpolWeek #Hetalia #Lietpol #Renae writes #fanfiction #FINALLY #The Waffle Fic #as the prophecy foretold #and it is almost 3am here #so yes - it has finally begun #and now... sleep

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