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yelenasdiary · 1 year ago

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Flufftober request:

Wandanat x reader (romantic)

Didn't really have a full-on idea for this one. But something fluffy. Maybe like a cute date after being working nonstop. Or them cooking together.

Pecan Pie

Pairing: WandaNat x Avenger! GN! Reader

Summary: After a relaxing weekend, you and your girlfriends spend a quiet Monday afternoon baking.

Warnings: None, all Fluff! | 1.2K

Translations: Detka (baby), miláčik (darling in Slovak)

AC: I thought this was cute!! I hope you don’t mind that I decided to keep it Fall themed! Enjoy x

October Special Masterlist

To say you were excited was an understatement! You'd been waiting for this day since mid-September, well, let's be honest, since last Halloween! It would be the second Halloween you got to spend with your girlfriends, Wanda and Natasha. Sure you guys have spent other Halloween's together but not as a couple. While you had returned from your solo mission early, you went to the store and grabbed everything you, Wanda and Nat would need for the planned baking afternoon on Monday.

Your girlfriends arrived home around lunch time on Sunday, giving the three of you the perfect night to be snuggled up watching spooky movies. Halloween was right down your alley as it was your favorite holiday. The others knew that when Halloween came howling around, to leave you in the kitchen to bake up a spooky feast.

Tony was throwing another one of his big parties, this time for Halloween and you confidently told him that you, Wanda and Nat would have the food covered. You made a list of things you wanted to make with your girlfriends, everything from popcorn balls to pecan pie. Wanda could help but chuckle to Nat as they watched you put your apron on, of course a Halloween themed one. They loved how happy the holiday made you and even more that they got to enjoy it with you.

"Well? Don't just stand there, we have so much to do!" You playfully teased your girlfriends as they stood in the doorframe of the kitchen. The two women laughed before walking over to grab an apron each.

"Where do you want me to start detka?" Natasha asked not before placing a kiss on your cheek as she wrapped her arms around your waist. Natasha was always the trouble maker, she loved distracting you with the touch of her lips while she could barely keep her hands off you. "Honey don't distract them yet; we haven't even started" Wanda placed a hand on Natasha's forearm as she made her way behind the two of you.

"I want to get some of savoury food done first before the desserts!" you turned in Natasha's arms now facing her. She smiled softly making you blush at her eye contact, "does that mean I can savour you?" the red head asked in a smooth and flirting tone. "Natty!" you giggled, "we're never going to get anything done with you being like this" you added before reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss her plumped lips.

"I'll be serious now, I got what I wanted" Natasha playfully winked when you pulled away. You smiled softly at her before swiftly moving out of her arms and moving over to the kitchen island, "I printed off each recipe so pick 1 recipe each and we'll get the prep done a lot faster, whatever needs to bake the longest will go first in the oven" you explained as you spread out the many recipes on the dining table, away from the mess that was only going to get bigger.

After a few short minutes the three of you picked a recipe to make, Natasha picked mini-Pumpkin & Feta pies, Wanda picking the Pecan Pie while you chose Pumpkin Hummus. "Okay so the pecan pie will take the longest to bake, Wands you have first dips on the oven then Natty!" you smiled with excitement as the three of you wandered back to the kitchen island and began picking up the ingredients that you all needed for your picked recipe.

It wasn't long until the mess in the kitchen was scattered around the countertops, flour and other chopped ingredients ended up on the floor, a mess you promised to clean up later to save the cleaning staff the hassle. Wanda's pecan pie was baking in the oven when you felt her come up behind you and gently place her two hands on your cheeks, "OMG!" You almost jumped, Wanda started laughing as you turned around and exposed the flour print hand prints she left on your cheeks.

"Now that's a baked good I'd like to eat" Natasha commented as you grabbed a small hand full of flour from your silver bowl and rushed over to Wanda, sprinkling it in her hand before throwing the remained of the flour at Nat. Both women broke out into laughter, Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer into her while giving Natasha a certain look. Nat read between the lines and grabbed the bowl of flour form your section of the kitchen, she walked up behind you and poured the leftover flour over your head causing you to squeal.

"You guys are so dead for that!" you teased, shaking the flour from your hair.

The whole compound could hear the commotion coming from the kitchen, laughed and squeals filled the kitchen which made the compound feel less like a place of work and more of a place everybody called home.

You grabbed the large bag of flour and threw handfuls of flour at your girlfriends while ducking behind the end of the kitchen island as they gently threw other scraps at you. The small food fight got serious when Wanda distracted you by asking you to check on her pie while Nat came up behind you and cracked an egg over your head. You gasped as you turned to your red headed girlfriend, "you did not!" you said, reaching for the chocolate sauce that was in a squeeze bottle, "you're going to pay!" you added. Both of your girlfriends unbale to stop laughing.

You squeezed a decent amount of chocolate sauce onto Natasha's chest, pointing the bottle directly at her before moving it into Wanda's direction who squealed loudly and ran away, using a dining table chair as a shield from the chocolate treat. None of you realised that Tony, Steve, Maria and Sam were watching everything unfold from the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Is it too late to call a bakery? We'll need food for tomorrow" Sam looked over at Tony.

"Nah, It's Y/n, they'll make it happen, don't stress" Maria replied before Tony could open his month. The four Avengers watched their friends destroy the kitchen in a food fight mess before one egg hit Steve's stomach. The three of you froze as your eyes met the other four watching in amusement.

"W-we'll clean this up!" you stuttered while looking at Tony, "I promise!" you added in hopes he wasn't mad. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while Natasha wrapped her arm around the other side of your waist, "it was our fault" the women said in sync.

"I don't care who started it, just don't let the pecan pie burn or else Steve will be mopey" Tony replied before walking away. Steve watched him, shaking his head.

"Are you happy now?" you looked at both of your girlfriends, "we're a mess, the kitchen is a disaster, and we haven't even gotten to making the popcorn balls!" you added with a pout.

"Oh miláčik, you stress too much" Wanda clicked her fingers together, using her magic to instantly clean up the kitchen and yourselves. "How do I almost forget you have powers?" you playfully shook your head at Wanda, "let's get back to baking!" you added with a smile.

#yelenasdiary asks #ilovewandanat #fanfiction #marvel #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #black widow #wandanat #WandaNat x Reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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cherry-pop-elf · 1 year ago

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BAKING WITH THE WEASLEY SIBLINGS

William ‘Bill’

Since he is the eldest, he had to do a lot of cooking with his parents. He was a victim of ‘third parent’ syndrome. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t find comfort in baking. It still fills a void in his heart when cooking and baking. His favorite thing to make, with you, is something he learned in Egypt. Baklava. It’s super airy, and the right amount of sweet. Given being partially turned has made his senses heighten, it makes for a good treat to share with you and his siblings. It’s nice to do normal things, when your life is so abnormal. He also learned to make some mean meat pies. Just know not to ask a slice on the full moon. That shit is raw. Thats what you get for dating a curse breaking werewolf. Eh. More protein never hurts in a diet, most of the time

Charlie

As the second oldest, he also had to do a lot of baking as well. There is also the fact that being a Dragonologist has left him fending for himself in the wild. So he’s had to get pretty creative if he wants something sweet. Hey. He’s a Weasley. They are famous for being creative. A treat he enjoys is Romanian Dessert Salami. Though, often times he uses the term liberally and often makes a rather fruity bread roll instead. Gotta use what ya got! Also, hope you are prepared to see him using his wand a lot for cooking. Don’t have much when chasing dragons. It is rather fascinating to learn how to make desserts from so little. Your little adventure man

Percy

Being the third child, you would think he wouldn’t be as responsible as his older siblings. You are wrong. The moment the two older brothers were out the door, it was his turn. Desserts were never a passion of his, so he’s not the best at it. But he won’t deny the fact he can make a mean pie. It’s a secret talent he has. You can count on him to make any pie your heart desires. He won’t say it out loud, but making pies is very therapeutic to him. He has a pie for each sibling even. Bill is meat, Charlie is mixed berries, Fred is Chocolate while George is Peanut butter, Ron is Pumpkin, and Ginny is Peach. Him? …..What was your favorite type of pie again~?

Fred

Fred isn’t really much of a baker. He’s more of the cooking type. You are better off seeing him make breakfast, despite being a night owl, compared to making any desserts. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t find his loopholes. Like how Percy is great with pies, Fred is amazing with Bread. Fred Bread! As proxy, he has his siblings favorite bread types memorized. Bill likes dark chocolate types, Charlie likes anything with berries, Percy is rather boring with banana, he loves grape while George will like orange, Ron likes hers with some pumpkin, and Ginny is the cinnamon type. Expect plenty of fresh bread with him. He’s got you covered

George

He IS the baker in the family. Who do you think brought up the idea of selling bake goods at WWW? He can, and will, bake ANYTHING! He has everyone’s favorite treats memorized. He is constantly handing out free samples to kids. He WILL find an excuse to bake. You want cookies? Hot and fresh from the oven. It’s three am and you want a cake? It’s now four am and you got a cake. He IS the baker. He loves to bake so much, and is always making sure the shop has fresh supply. If you can’t ever find him anywhere, follow your nose to the kitchen. He’s got something in the works. For someone!

Ron

Like Fred, he’s not really a baker. He’s a cooker. Doesn’t mean he can’t make a dessert if he has to. He’s become pretty good at making tarts, custards, and puddings. Very much comfort food. Something he picked up again when going to school with Harry. Given, ya know, the Dursleys. He won’t lie, it was also a cheap way to flirt with Hermione without breaking his wallet. Funny thing is she was never one for such desserts. Now she can’t get enough. He makes those comfort foods with a lot of heart, and is willing to make them if you have a bad day. He does get a bit anxious when cooking around other people, but he warms up eventually.

Ginny

Like Fred and Ron, she doesn’t really bake either. She was the baby of the family, after all. She does, however, like to make cookies for her team. There is something so nice about having a warm cookie after a cold rainy day of Quidditch practice. Helps that you convinced her to pick up the habit again. She likes to make cookies with fruit in them. To try and have them on the healthier side, given she’s an athlete. So a tart cookie is a good cookie to her. It’s simple, basic, and quick, but nothing wrong with that. A quickly made cookie, with love, is better than a drawn out dessert of labor. It’s also easy to blame her love of fruity desserts on Charlie. She’s the baby girl in an army of boys. She picked up some habits

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l-egionaire · 11 months ago

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You know what? I'm bored, and I've got some ideas, so here are my Ilvermony headcanons.

The separate houses are treated as little more than an aesthetic difference by the students. While there might be rivalries and prank wars between the houses, it never gets to the levels of near discrimination that it gets to at Hogwarts. The students all just consider themselves students of the same school and members of the houses intermingle and hang out with each other all the time. They're even allowed to be in each other's dorms for limited amounts of time each day. The teachers encourage it as they often say that each house represents a part of what every great wizard needs, and coming together helps bring them all together towards the ideal wizard.

It's not uncommon for there to be students from other countries who don't speak English perfectly. Thankfully, there are charms to help translate their speech for the teacher, and the only part of their work that needs to be spoken English are their incantations. Though some might still ask for help in getting the pronunciation correct.

The dining hall students eat in is vastly different from Hogwarts's Great Hall, being a large room with mahogany walls filled with multiple circular tables covered in red tablecloths with gold trim and set with silver untensils, fine blue China plates, and crystal glasses. In the center of the room is a vast roaring fireplace with a picture of the Sayre family overtop of it. During feasts, the Pukwudgies bring out platters and pitchers of food and drink that stay magically hot and cold until the students serve themselves from them. Students are allowed to sit at whatever table they please, and the staff eat at a massive table in the middle of all the others.

The dorms are just different buildings of the castle that have five floors of T-shaped hallways with long red and gold rugs bearing the houses symbol. Along the walls of each hallways are dorm rooms for each years students. Students are assigned two each to a dorm, with their roommates's names being included with the letters they receive at the start of each new year. Roommates can't be changed unless two students agree to trade with each other. The dorms all have two large half poster beds with red and gold sheets and blankets, the blankets also carrying their houses symbol and pillows with blue pillow cases. There's also two desks, half dressers, wardrobes, and a set of three shelves above the dressers on both sides (the rooms are enhanced with expansion charms to give them extra space). The halls for younger students all have a dorm manager in them, an older student who was chosen to sleep on their floor to act as a chaperone and disciplinary figure to the students.

The students get to the school by way of multiple magical single decker busses that all arrive at Rockfeller Center in New York. They drive for around an hour before making a stop at a magically hidden pit stop where the students can get snacks, drinks and use the bathroom before the rest of the journey.

Thanksgivings at Ilvermony are always huge. The decorations include fall leaves that flutter and blow themselves through the halls, realistic turkey figures that jump around and gobble, and in the center of each dining room table is a red and gold hat that plays music. Each table gets its own turkey to carve (any leftovers are served over the next few days as sandwiches) along with boats of gravy and cranberry sauce, bowls of corn, mashed potatoes and carrots. And for dessert, a veritable buffet of pies, including Ilvermony's famous cranberry pie, the recipe said to have been invented by Isolt Sayre herself.

Any students without a wand before coming to school is allowed to select one from the hall of wands just past the sorting room. The hall holds hundreds of wands stacked inside their case along the walls. The room holds both wands so new they were just ordered yesterday and so old they were created at the very start of the school. After each sorting ceremony, the head of the school helps each first year's find a wand that "chooses" them, a process that can take up to an hour at most. It's also heavily guarded at all times by both a pair of heavily armed, muscular Pukwudgies and a rotating member of the staff as it's a prime target for thievery either by students or dark wizards.

Ilvermorny boasts a massive roaster of international magical studies electives. In each one, students can study the government, magical creatures, and magical history of the country of their choosing. Some even go on summer trips to those countries to further their studies.

Rather than O.W.L.s, Ilvermorny students takes the W.I.T. or Wizarding Intuition Tests, something similar to an SAT tests. The tests are taken twice, once during sixth year and once during seventh year for each class the students take, and the combined scores of each year are added together, and that average becomes their score. The better the score in certain subjects, the more job opportunities the students have.

To receive mail, students go to the mail room in a tall tower at the southern side of the castle where every owl goes to bring packages and letters for their deliveriees to receive. The mail room is student run and students are selected at random to do the job.

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cocoa-rococo · 6 months ago

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Koopaling Headcanons: Lemmy

The clown prince of crime and everyone's favorite circus performer! Gosh he's adorable.

Right-handed.

Fairly sensitive about his height. The rest of the Koopa Troop know better than to bring it up. Just. Don't call him short. Last guy who did ended up with more than a broken nose.

Allergic to peanuts, which is unfortunate, because a lot of folks like them roasted at circuses. He likes other nut butters better anyway.

Likes collecting old circus memorabilia, such as posters, small trinkets, and flyers. He started it when he was younger, and has kept it going ever since.

He purposefully lets people underestimate him due to his silly personality and clown aesthetics. Makes it all the sweeter when he ends up with the last laugh.

Can and will juggle just about anything. Ludwig had to stop him on multiple occasions because he was tossing around something dangerous for fun (and profit).

Is very fond of caramel corn and citrus candies, as well as fruit gummies.

Favorite cookies are snickerdoodles and classic chocolate chip, but he loves fruit pies and sweet crêpes for dessert, really anything flaky with layers.

An excellent roller and ice-skater, given his balance. He, Wendy, and Larry like to skate together sometimes.

Very tactile person! Likes giving and receiving hugs, pats on the back, head scratches, and secret handshakes.

Similarly, a tactile learner; if you want him to remember something, give him something he can hold.

Because of his smaller size and how much he moves, any sickness he gets hits him like a truck, but also burns through his system pretty quick.

The only member of the castle with permission to enter Iggy's lab at any time without prior warning or knocking.

Has an almost terrifying amount of emotional intelligence and is very good at sussing out the crux of a relationship problem, sometimes even before the other person does.

Always rehearses his tricks in front of Iggy before anyone else, because he knows he’ll always be guaranteed a laugh, as well as critique on what he can improve on.

One of the lesser strict generals, which the minions are thankful for, but will also ask them to assist in his tricks. This can range anywhere from "hand him something" to "balance on a ball while juggling flaming hammers". The minions are not so thankful for this.

His proficiency with stage illusions actually helped him grasp the concepts of his wand's abilities. Out of the Koopalings, his strength lies in how precise his magic is, able to pull what he needs right when he needs it, as well as being able to divide and manage his concentration.

Likes to exercise with Roy, though he leans more towards yoga and calisthenics than weight training.

He likes all kinds of flowers, but likes seeing cosmos and marigolds the most. Poppies are nice, too.

He can be just as bad as Iggy when it comes to pulling pranks, mainly because no one suspects him; he manages to get out of 99% of situations by pulling the "ohhhh I'm just a lil guy" card.

An alarmingly good impressionist. More than once he fooled the guards into doing something for him by pretending to voice someone else.

Given his small size and how active he is, his metabolism is working overtime to fuel him. He eats almost as much as Larry.

Mastered the art of making the perfect hot chocolate drink, inspired by his trips into the ice lands. Wendy is determined to learn his secret. Lemmy is an adorable steel vault.

If you pick him up or he falls over, he has this… almost ragdoll-like heft to him, with dangly limbs and a little flopping from where you grab him, like he's made of sand or a weighted stuffed animal. The only time this doesn't seem to affect him is when he's on his ball. No one can really explain why this is.

Favorite fruit is any kind of berry, as well as peaches (formed before any interaction with a certain princess).

Morton used to carry him under his arm when they were younger. For what purpose? None know. Lemmy, though, was happy to stay there until he was put down again.

He likes sleeping where he's suspended, like swings, tree tents, and other such places. There was a notable instance where Kamek once found him tucked in his shell and snoozing in an empty hanging plant holder.

Really good at shuffling cards and coin moves, really any sort of street magic or little parlor trick. He's been learning tarot interpretation from Kammy because it's always a hit at parties.

His bombs are his own invention. Iggy helped him develop the combustion system and ratio of powder to use, but the shape, style, and make are all his own. Similarly, the tires he sells for his business are made from the same rubber as his balancing balls.

One of the most agile of all his siblings, and one of the best climbers.

He used to share a bunk bed with Iggy when they were young, but once they got older and had their own separate rooms, he used a hammock instead of a bed. It's quite cozy, with lots of blankets and pillows.

One of his favorite snacks is roasted sunflower seeds with a little salt. Crunchy, and especially tasty after an energetic routine.

The one most likely to lose things. Not because he misplaced them somewhere, but because he made them vanish via magic trick, and can't remember if he re-summoned them again.

Takes any sort of dance class he can. He's energetic and likes being able to move around a lot, but he's especially fond of tap, hip-hop (no pun intended), and ballet. The latter he practices with Wendy.

#smb #super mario bros #super mario #koopalings #lemmy koopa #lemmy #cocoaposts #headcanons #gif #this was surprisingly hard to come up with!#not sure what it was but lemmy was a challenge to try and flesh out #he's generally a very easy-going guy so it was fun to see how he lines up in comparison to his siblings #also something i almost add -- lemmy gets along fairly well with mario in the super mario-kun comics #though whether or not those are canon remains up to interpretation

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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what is THAT 😭

Between the Stitch event and the new birthday series, it looks like Disney’s swerving into promoting its classic animated franchises this year 🤔 It’s definitely a lot more… “in-your-face” than it has been in previous years (Yuu’s prophetic dreams aside). We so rarely got to see Disney characters’ faces outside of dreams and the G7 statues… Now we have paintings of Iago, Zazu, Jasmine, Aladdin, etc. (which is funny, because Aladdin and Jasmine were previously featured in a furniture item exclusively turned AWAY from the player’s camera so their faces couldn’t be seen).

TWST had always made Disney references and taken deep inspiration from Disney materials, but it always felt disconnected and like it was its own thing too. The references were there (most definitely in the world’s history), but not always so blatant. For example, players would make a game of finding mickey head shapes in Groovy illustrations (which is a fun easter egg!). Here is an example with a random card:

… Anyway, is it just me or does the M*ckey Mouse wand for Platinum Jackets look kinda goofy (like, even more goofy than the pies from the Birthday Jacket line) 😂 It’s like the boys literally waltzed into a Disney theme park and bought one at an absurd price to whack each other with for funsies…

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #spoilers #Iago #Zazu #Aladdin #Stitch #Mickey Mouse #Yuu #Jasmine

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lulublack90 · 8 months ago

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Prompt 25 - Eyeliner

@jegulus-microfic March 25 Word count 746

Previous part First part

Regulus felt every hair on his body bristle. He had to think quickly. He was glad that he’d had barely drunk anything and had chosen a coffee after dinner.

He pasted a wide, dozy smile and spun around to face Lucius a little too fast. He made sure to stumble sideways, and had to use one of the bookcases to catch him before he fell on the floor.

“Lucius!” He cried over loud as he threw his arms open. “Thank, Salazar, you found me! I got turned around and ended up in here,” He let his eyes un-focus and blinked heavily a few times as though to clear them. “But Lucius, Lucius, did you know you have an original copy of Hélas, Je me suis Transfiguré Les Pieds!” He pointed at the crumbling pages of the script from the Middle Ages.

Lucius’s eyes narrowed, clearly still suspicious. Regulus didn’t miss the way his eyes flashed to the diary behind him.

“I did, Regulus. It is one of Narcissa's favourites. She has spent a fortune getting it restored.” He held out his arm. “Come, your Mother is wondering where you are.”

Regulus allowed himself to be walked back to the drawing room. He made a fool of himself and begged Lucius not to tell his mother how drunk he was.

“You’re such a good friend, Lucius.” He gushed as he grabbed Lucius’s arm as they walked down another corridor. “I’m so glad Cissa married you.”

By the time they got back, Lucius had an extremely smug look on his face.

“Poor boy got turned around and went down the wrong hall and ended up in the Library.” He chuckled smoothly, wrapping his arm around Regulus’s shoulder and manoeuvring him to his seat.

“Regulus did always love his books,” Orion barked out a laugh. “He would spend all day in ours if we allowed it.”

No more was said about Regulus’s adventure as Candy brought them another bottle of Cognac. Regulus made sure to ask for more coffee and tapped the side of the cup with a grin on his face when Lucius caught his eye.

Regulus kept as quiet as possible while still acting drunk. He pretended to drink a few more cups of coffee before they finally called it a night. It was later than he thought they’d be out, and he was concerned about how long Remus had been locked in his room.

They made their goodbyes. Lucius whispered into his ear when it was his turn with Regulus.

“Are you sure you’re sober enough to apparate?” Regulus was unsure if the concern in his voice was genuine or not.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve had plenty of coffee now.” He smiled as he clasped Lucius’s hands in his.

Orion and Walburga went first, and he followed seconds after.

Walburga was waiting for him. Her nostrils flared, and her jaw set.

“Come now, Walburga dear. Those drinks were far more alcoholic than they tasted. I’m sure he had no idea how much they would affect him.” Orion tried to placate his wife.

“Then he should learn to control himself when he overindulges.” She said coldly. She slipped her wand from her sleeve and pointed it at him. Regulus fell to his knees, only gasping once at the unexpected pain. It wasn’t crucio he knew that. But all the same, it felt like his core was on fire.

She removed him from her spell and glared down at him. Slowly, he stood and schooled his features to hide all signs of pain.

“I apologise, Mother. It won’t happen again.” He bowed his head to her. “Please excuse me. I had better go and let the dog out before he messes up the room.” He bowed again and headed upstairs.

He removed the wards and opened the door, expecting Remus to be standing there furious, but he was sitting on the bed shaking.

“Remus, are you okay?” He took a nervous step into the room.

“Close the door,” Remus’s voice was high and strained. Regulus quickly shut the door and threw up a couple of silencing charms.

“Remus, what’s wrong?” Remus snorted and burst out laughing. He threw his head back and howled with laughter. He held up the mirror that Regulus hadn’t noticed he was holding, and there was Sirius’s face, beet red with very wonky eyeliner.

Regulus folded in on himself and laughed hard. Letting all the tension he’d felt from Malfoy Manor go.

Next part

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alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody · 1 month ago

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kinktober #22

Exposed 😳 / Bewitching 🧙‍♀️

Jack’s pants are getting tight, and it’s all Bittle’s fault. He has to unbutton them after his break, grateful for the extra camouflage of his apron. He had been so good until Bittle showed up with his sweet blond cowlick and his entrancing Southern drawl and his devastatingly delicious little pies.

Look, Jack has worked in and around food service for most of his life. His dad is practically Tim Horton, if Tim Horton was more sophisticated and was really into fair-trade, single-origin coffee. He knows that the only way to make food taste that good is to add an unholy amount of butter.

He’d been doing so well at restricting less, which is the part that really sucks. Since his therapist, George, went on maternity leave three months ago, he’s backslid from a tenuous recovery back into overanalyzing his body and what he’s putting into it. Every time he looks at the plate of pies in the back of house, he finds himself doing the mental math: if he eats one, he’ll have a salad for lunch. If he eats two, he’ll have a small salad for lunch. If he eats three or more, he doesn’t need lunch because he’ll have already eaten too much. George would not condone this kind of thinking, but she’s still out for another three weeks, so it’s just Jack against his stupid brain and the world.

His stomach growls under his snug logo t-shirt. He needs to size up, but he’s been putting it off in hopes that if he waits long enough, he’ll drop some weight and he won’t need to add an extra X after all. So far he just keeps catching his reflection in the elegant iron-framed mirror across the cafe and noticing how the crimson fabric pulls across his broad back, how it gets folded into what’s starting to be a(nother) roll at his sides.

Bittle glows in his stupid crimson shirt. It makes his cheeks pinker, his eyes browner, his skin brighter, like a perfect scoop of neapolitan ice cream. It makes Jack hungry to look at him, no matter how much he tells himself it’s just association. It’s just how sometimes they brush past each other behind the counter and he catches the smell of fruit and pastry wafting off him, how just the sight of him makes Jack want. Want to touch, want to eat, want to fill up some emptiness inside himself with sugar and fat.

Man, he has got to get back to therapy.

He tried not to let himself count how many pies he ate today, but he can feel in his gut that it was too many. It’s always too many, now, and he knows Bittle’s crunching the numbers from the way he always smiles more coming out of the back of house after a shift. Jack tries not to let himself think about that, either.

Maybe Bittle’s a witch. That would explain a lot.

Though right now, he doesn’t exactly look it. He’s steaming milk for a latte, standing as far back as he possibly can while still exposing the milk to any heat. He got a nasty burn on his hand from the steamer wand in his first week and hasn’t trusted the thing since. It would almost be cute if it didn’t make it basically impossible for Jack to squeeze by in the space left over.

Unfortunately, the register and the stacks of hot cups are on the other side of the counter, beyond Bittle and the steamer and the remnants of Jack’s dignity, and there’s a gaggle of scrubbed-up medical students approaching with caffeine in their sights, and there is no way Bittle is going to be finished steaming that milk by the time they’re ready to order. This kind of prescience is what makes Jack an excellent barista: he can see ten steps ahead and plan his moves well in advance, so he’s never scrambling when the moment comes. It also gives him a lot of time to worry.

He grits his teeth. It’s so much worse that it’s medical students, somehow. They’re all so — small. They can’t be much younger than Jack himself, but — maybe unsurprisingly, given how Jack’s doctor talked about his weight at his last physical — they all look like they run twenty miles every morning and eschew anything with calories.

Which is especially unfair, because Jack runs every morning, too. His body just wants him to be fat. And so, apparently, does Eric Bittle.

He takes a deep breath and eyes the space between Bittle’s slight, lithe body and the counter. Bittle probably never has to think about this. He can probably fit in anywhere, and no one ever thinks it’s weird or tells him he’s obsessed with food or that it’s no wonder he looks the way he does when he starts yapping about desserts.

Jack grits his teeth. “Excuse me,” he says softly, but Bittle doesn’t hear him over the shriek of the steamer. “Excuse me,” he tries again, louder, just as the bell at the front door dings and the medical students cluster in, chattering loudly, and when Bittle still doesn’t reply, he squeezes himself between him and the counter.

Bittle freezes, which is somehow worse than anything else. Jack’s face starts to burn. Although his apron hasn’t moved, he feels like his unbuttoned pants must be on display for the everyone in the shop to see, for the entire city to gawk at through the tall front windows, branding him as too big, too wide. The medical students haven’t so much as glanced in his direction, but Bittle, clutching the metal steamer cup and a coffee-stained rag, is staring right at him.

“Jack?” he says, and it might as well just be the two of them on the planet.

Jack feels like a cornered dog, ready to snap, to sink his teeth into Bittle just for asking. Anything would be better than having to be vulnerable about this.

“Don’t,” he grinds out, and he makes the coffees for the med students. He rings them up, he smiles as politely as he can. Bittle — small, shining, perfect Bittle — presses himself against the back counter as Jack moves back and forth, aching.

—

Bittle leaves without a word when his shift is over. Jack has several more hours on the clock to feel bad about it, no matter how much Shitty, the closer, tries to make him laugh.

It’s not until Jack has clocked out, hauled himself down the block to his parking spot, and safely ensconced himself in his car that he sees the text from Bittle.

Hey! I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today. We can talk about it if you want, or I can switch to weekends or something when you’re off.

Jack stares down at his phone.

No, I’m sorry. I’ve been taking some things out on you that you don’t deserve, and that’s on me. You haven’t done anything but make me question some things.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

No, I’m sorry. I’ve been taking some things out on you that you don’t deserve, and that’s on me. It’s not your fault. I’m just realizing I have a lot more work to do around my relationships with food and my body than I thought.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

No, I’m sorry. I’ve been taking some things out on you that you don’t deserve, and that’s on me. It’s not your fault. My therapist is on leave right now and I’m not doing great.

He crushes his eyes shut until his phone vibrates with Bitty’s response: Your therapist! I do love a man who values his mental health. I understand, anyway. Can I do anything to help?

Jack scoffs. No, I just need to get out of my head. You’re fine, really.

Actually, can I ask you something? Even if it might be a little forward?

That depends on the question.

If you’re enjoying my pies (and don’t you dare tell me if you’re not), why haven’t you said a word to me about them?

Jack flushes. He thinks Bittle’s teasing, though he’s never been good at reading tone and his anxiety doesn’t help. But he took the mention of his therapist well, at least? That seems like it might be something? And besides, it’s not like he can really pretend nothing’s wrong with the way he’s treated Bittle or the pies at this point.

Finally, he types, I am enjoying them. I just have a hard time with food sometimes. It’s hard for me to let myself enjoy things.

He has to close his eyes again to send it. George would be so proud of him. Even though he feels like he might need to be peeled off the pavement.

His phone buzzes. Well, mister, lucky for you, I’m happy to help with that!

Again. If you want me to, I mean! I don’t want to invite myself along on your self-love journey!

And again. Ugh. What I’m trying to say is that if you’re not a pumpkin man, I’ve got plenty more up my sleeve! If that would be ok with you, that is.

In spite of himself, Jack smiles.

I actually prefer apple.

#feedist kinktober 2024 #feedist kinktober #my fic #my writing #check please #chubby jack #jack x bitty #zimbits #cp coffee shop au

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blue--ingenue · 1 year ago

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"Repentance"

Summary: for the prompts, "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice" and "I fucking hate you!"

Author's Notes: to the anon who requested this, the combo you picked gave me so many ideas for angst 😭 i got a bit carried away with this one. i hope you like it!

Sebastian fiddled with the sleeves of his dress robes for perhaps the hundredth time since they began their walk from the common room to the Great Hall. Ominis, the picture of polite nobility, had insisted on escorting Anne all the way to the dance. Sebastian had hung back a few paces in order to give the happy couple a wide berth. Without turning his head, Ominis called back to him.

“You know, you could have avoided all this sulking if you had just asked her to the ball,” he commented idly. Sebastian smoothed his curls and adjusted his coat. “Asked who?”

He had never been good at lying to Ominis, and even less so with Anne. His friend only sighed wearily while his twin gave him an exasperated look over her date’s shoulder. It was equal parts pity and ‘I told you so.’ He set his jaw and gazed stubbornly back at her. “She made her decision,” he stated matter-of-factly. By now their group had reached the entrance. The ceiling had been bewitched to bear a gentle fall of snow. Wisps of white descended from silver clouds and disappeared just before they met the floor. Gone were the house tables. A lively waltz poured from the orchestra of enchanted instruments floating in place of the faculty table. Tables laden with food and drink, pastries and pies, hugged the far walls, while smaller tables and chairs set up a perimeter around the dance floor. Already couples were dancing, some with more grace than others, as more students arrived.

Anne held his gaze and looked like she was about to say something when her eyes widened and locked on something behind him. “Oh Sebastian, she’s beautiful,” she whispered.

He almost didn’t dare to turn around. The witch in question - the only one that she could possibly be referring to - was already the most divine beauty he had ever beheld. He didn’t know how she could surpass perfection. He didn’t think it was possible, but suddenly he needed to know. When he turned around it he felt as though he’d taken a Depulso straight to the stomach.

She was radiant. Her dress fit her perfectly. Everything, from the colors that complemented her complexion to the dainty ruffled sleeves that draped from her elbows just so, stole the breath from his lungs. When they were young, their mother would read Sebastian and his sister muggle fairy tales. He’d loved imagining himself as the dashing prince saving the princess with windswept hair and a charming smile for any occasion. Those days were long gone, but seeing her descend the stairs like his very own storybook dream was enough to break him from his trance. Suddenly he couldn’t remember why he hadn’t asked her in the first place. All he knew was that he needed to be near her.

It felt like he’d been holding his breath and each step closer was a desperate kick to the surface, a burning need for air. Her head dipped in his direction and she smiled. A soft, sweet thing that crinkled at her eyes and tipped up the corners of her lips. They were but a few strides from each other. Giddy, he offered her a hand and lightly bowed. Like a dream, she reached out to place her hand in his. His chest was filled with a warm, honeyed happiness. Gracefully, she reached the last step, offered her own hand - and placed it in the waiting palm of Garreth Weasley.

Sebastian froze, arm still held aloft. Weasley kissed her hand and bowed. She smiled down at him - her date - Sebastian’s jealous mind spat, and reached into his coat pocket for his wand. He flicked his wrist and produced a bouquet of crisp white roses. She laughed, a light and airy sound reserved only for him. He spoke without thinking.

“Actually, she likes foxglove,” he asserted. The startled Gryffindors snapped their attention to him and he could practically hear Ominis’ disappointed groan behind him. She seemed to notice him for the first time that night and several emotions flitted across her pretty features in quick succession. Shock, confusion, the flash of a blush, and finally irritation.

“They’re your favorite flower,” he explained uselessly. Gods, the last time he’d been at such a mortifying loss for words he had fallen asleep in Potions and half-assed his way through a verbal presentation. His Gryffindor parted her lips to speak, but it was Garreth who spoke first.

“My apologies, I’ll make sure to pick foxglove next time,” he replied easily. Sebastian couldn’t decide what he hated more: the sickening sincerity of his apology, or the fact that he thought there would be a next time with her. In classic Sebastian Sallow fashion, his mouth moved faster than his mind.

“There won’t be a next time,” he growled. For once in his life Garreth didn’t appear to have a witty remark at the ready. “I -”

His friend placed a soft hand on his bicep and smiled with forced composure. “Why don’t you find us a table, Garreth? I’ll join you in just a moment,” she supplied. With a polite nod to Sebastian he shot his date a grateful look and disappeared into the ballroom. As soon as he was out of earshot his Gryffindor let slip her mask of composure and whirled to face him. Shit.

“What the hell are you playing at, Sallow?” she seethed. The rational side of him was screaming for him to apologize for being such a cad. But the irrational side, the one that felt the urge to whip out his wand at the very thought of Weasley touching her again, had no interest in reason.

“Of all the eligible dates in our year, how could you choose him?” he demanded. She took a step closer to him in a manner that said no amount of fitted silk and lace could keep her from blasting him across the hall.

“Because he asked me!” she shouted. Several heads turned in their direction, but neither of them cared. They were always like this, pushing each other to the brink of destruction until one of them - or both of them - fell over the edge.

He opened his mouth to retort, but she wasn’t finished. “Garreth is kind and funny and caring. He is a gentleman, and that is more than I can say for you right now.”

He laughed, a cold and punched-out sound. “So he’s the best you pull?” Stop! His inner voice urged him. He could feel himself crossing the threshold of saying something truly cruel. Something seemed to click for her. She tilted her chin and looked him dead in the eyes.

“You’re jealous,” she said simply. She can’t know, he thought to himself. If she knew how much he cared and didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t think he could bear it. He couldn’t lose her.Never her. No. It was much better to keep her at arms’ length than not keep her at all. He scoffed and the lack of confidence in his voice was clear even to his own ears.

“What could I possibly be jealous of?” he snapped. She took another step forward so that she was mere inches from his face. He looked down and saw the same look she wore when she had cornered her opponent in Crossed Wands. “You’re jealous,” she began, lowly, “because Garreth asked me and you didn’t.” She was close, so close that he could smell the peppermint on her breath. His thoughts ran in a thousand different directions. She was tantalizingly close, she was completely correct, couldn’t let her find out. He panicked, grasping for a response to distance himself from the truth. He was hers, utterly and completely. What’s the farthest thing from love? he asked himself. He said the first thing he could think of, shouting it in a blind panic.

“I fucking hate you!”

His words shocked himself. He didn’t dare to breathe. She physically recoiled as though he’d struck her. Her pretty eyes were wide with shock and for a moment Sebastian thought she would hex him. Instead a sob punched from her chest, wrending his heart in two, and she ran past him and through the doors leading away from the Great Hall.

“Wait!” he called, desperately. As though his pitiful plea could overcome the knife he’d wrenched into her heart. He had to find her. He needed to fix this.

She hadn’t made it far in her uncomfortable heels. She was sitting on one of the stone benches near the aqueduct gardens, shivering amid the snowfall. The silence was broken occasionally by her sniffles and sobs. Sebastian’s heart ached for her and he cursed himself for being the one to cause her such pain. He called her name and she went rigid. He spoke softly as though he were approaching a wounded animal. Cautiously he sat on the far end of the bench and let himself look at her. Her eyes were red from crying and her lip trembled, stilling only when she sniffled. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he couldn’t blame her. He had to be the last person on earth that she wanted to talk to, and for good reason. Sebastian was mustering up the courage to speak, digging through his heart and soul to find the right words, when she spoke. Her voice was so soft, barely more than a hoarse whisper - ”I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

She looked up at him then, eyes full of betrayal yet so resolute. “Or at least, I thought I did,” she said with a shake of her head. “I see now that I was just being foolish. Some part of me hoped beyond reason that you shared my feelings. That you loved me even a fraction of how much I love you. I see now that I was wrong,” her voice caught on a sob at the last word, but she pressed on. “You needn’t worry about me going to the ball with Garreth. And I promise you won’t have to spend another second in my presence,” she finished.

She loved him. Every fear he held onto, of her abandoning him, rejecting him, seemed so stupidly utterly foolish. She loved him. And he was about to lose her. Sebastian surged forward, kneeling in the snow before her and taking her hands in his. Desperate and with nothing to lose, he spoke quickly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I could never mean it. Not to you,” he implored her to listen. “You can hate me, hex me, do anything you want with me, but allow me a moment to speak.” She met his eyes and nodded weakly. He sighed at the smallest of victories.

“I could never hate you. And you were right about all of it. I was jealous. I was a jealous, cowardly git because I was too afraid to ask you myself. And when you accused me of it, I panicked. I thought of anything to say to keep you from seeing the truth of your words and I hurt you. I wish those words had never passed my lips, but they did. And for that I am so, truly sorry. You’re my best friend and the most extraordinary girl I’ll ever meet. I know I don’t deserve you, but regardless, I love you.”

Her brow furrowed. “You don’t have to say that just because you feel sorry for me,” she huffed. Sebastian was gobsmacked. He’d bared his heart to her and had no idea what to say now. But Sebastian Sallow had always been a man of action more than words. He gently brushed the tears from her cheek and brushed a stray lock behind her hair, moving his face closer as he did so. His lips hovered before hers, giving her the chance to recoil.

“May I?” he breathed. She stared deep into his eyes and whispered, “Please.”

He pressed his lips against hers. They were impossibly soft and so warm despite the snowfall surrounding them. He gently pushed against her and she pushed back. His nerves were on fire. He pressed a hand to her waist, pulling her closer, and slid his other hand behind her neck to deepen this kiss. He held her like something precious, like she was breathing life into his starved lungs. When at last they pulled away blinked a few times before a tear slid down her cheek.

For the hundredth time that night, Sebastian panicked. Had he misread the situation? Had she not wanted to kiss him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll just - ” she cut him off by pressing her lips to his. The kiss was soft, fleeting, but effectively cut off his stream of panicked thoughts.

Inexplicably, she laughed. “I accept your apology,” she whispered. And Sebastian was sure that the smile she gave him was warm enough to disperse the gentle storm above them. He grinned, but the dregs of guilt lingered in his chest.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” he asked. She pulled him up so that they were both sitting on the bench. “Would you just…hold me?” she asked, tentatively.

He couldn’t have obliged faster. She spread out on the rest of the bench with her head in Sebastian’s lap. He angled his head forward to shield her from the falling snow. She gazed up at him as he stroked her hair, and the silence was comfortable. It was as though even the night knew that something fundamental had shifted. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he answered. She smiled up at him, and he felt his world right itself on its axis. “You were a git. But I love you.”

He chuckled softly, being careful not to disturb her head where it rested. “I am. But I’m your git, and I love you. So very, very much.” She laughed and suddenly he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been afraid in the first place.

#sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastan sallow x y/n #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x you #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow fanfiction #angst #smut #hurt/comfort #pining #idiots in love

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longitudinalwaveme · 26 days ago

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The Rogues of Earth-93473.

Pied Piper: Hartley Rathaway; he has a magical talking flute with a maleveolent mind of its own. His family was very wealthy a few generations back, but grandparents with no money sense and parents with rather bad luck meant that he grew up poor. (Based on "Pay the Piper", a fanfic I wrote).

Weather Wizard: Dr. Claudio "Clyde" Mardon, a meteorologist whose life and reputation were ruined after he refused to allow his weather wand to be marketed as a weapon to shady private military contractors by Lex Luthor----who promptly launched a smear campaign against him that made it impossible for him to work in his field. He accidentally killed his brother, Marco "Mark" Mardon (after the latter tried to hide out with him while on the run), and ended up going to prison for two years for possession of what was seen as an unlicensed deadly weapon. Much more intelligent and powerful than his main-universe counterpart, and also much more ambitious. He seeks to take over the world so that he can make things "right" and ensure that no one else will have to suffer. Arguably somewhat delusional, but nevertheless incredibly skilled at using his wand. (Based on "Twister", another fanfic.)

Captain Cold: Leonard Snart. He's mostly the same as his main-universe counterpart, but is also the older half-brother of Roscoe "The Top" Dillon; the two of them share the same mother. As such, the two actually get along quite well in this universe, and actually co-founded the Rogues together.

The Top: Roscoe Neyle Dillon. Similar to his main-universe counterpart, although less ambitious and ruthless and even more prone to mental health problems. He's also the younger half-brother of Leonard "Captain Cold" Snart, and the two get along well. He is the boyfriend of ice skater Lisa Star, who is the counterpart of the main-universe Golden Glider. She is not a criminal, as Roscoe has not yet died, and she is not related to Captain Cold in this universe.

The Mirror Walker: Evan McCulloch, age 12. More or less the kid sidekick of the group. He is from Scotland, but ended up in the US when one of Dr. Samuel Joseph Scudder's mirror inventions went wrong. Already traumatized from his experiences in the orphanage where he grew up (basically the same ones as experienced by his main-universe counterpart), Evan reacted to his sudden teleportation to another country by panicking, grabbing some of Dr. Scudder's mirror technology, and then disappearing into the Mirror Realm. He used this technology to steal to survive, and was eventually taken in/forcibly attached himself to the Rogues.

Notably, Dr. Samuel Scudder is not a criminal, and is in fact a friend of the Flash (Barry Allen).

The Trickster: Jenette Jesse. Basically the same as her main-universe counterpart, just a woman. Naturally, she uses her status as "a girl" to her advantage whenever she can.

Captain Boomerang: George "Digger" Wiggins. The son of W. W. and Betty Wiggins. Unlike his main-universe counterpart, Digger grew up rich, since his mother married his biological father after divorcing her first husband. He has an Australian accent due to spending half his childhood in a penthouse in Melbourne. He turned to a life of crime partially due to the antics of the Pied Piper's malevolent flute, and partially out of boredom. He and Pied Piper are actually good friends due to the fact that Piper used to work for him.

#flash comics #flash rogues #captain cold #captain boomerang #george digger harknesss #the top #mirror master #evan mcculloch #the trickster #james jesse #weather wizard #clyde mardon #alternate universe #fanfic #fanart #fictober24 #fictober23

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coswans · 3 days ago

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the spoon (SFW, 1829 words) summary: coswan bake a cake together and shenanigans definitely do NOT happen /lie

There was much to consider doing when their vacation brought them to Germany, but a must on the list was to bake something using authentic local ingredients. It was Wanda who decided on a black forest cake (with much more enthusiasm than locals seemed to have), and Cosmo who insisted on “leading” that evening’s baking session—that was, doing most of the heavy lifting while Wanda assisted as needed. He’d learned to bake just for her, and although he didn’t really need to prove his competence to her anymore, he was still resolute in doing so several centuries later.

She knew he also just enjoyed having her around to watch him do things and keep him company, and she wasn’t one to deny him a good praising once all was said and done, anyway. She’d do so even if the end result wasn’t as perfect as desired, and even if he’d made a mess along the way—as was the case now. These things were inevitable, and Wanda wasn’t blameless in her involvement. Honestly, there’d be less of a mess if he’d just done it fully solo. When they were together, it was hard to avoid a playful bumping of hips or a dabbing of flour or whipped cream on one another’s faces. When they got really silly with it, it was as though more ingredients ended up on the countertops than in their designated bowls and pans.

The job still got done, though, and as Cosmo put the raw cake layers in the oven and closed the door, Wanda drifted over to the kitchen table to relax and wait.

Cosmo sat on the floor and peered straight through the oven door window, lasting all of fifteen seconds before he flopped onto his back. “This is the worst part,” he lamented, arms splayed. “It takes forever!”

“The worst part’ll be when it’s all gone,” Wanda said.

“Yeah, but then we get to make another! Or skip all this waiting and just poof one up. Duh, we are magic…”

Wanda smiled. Even having said that, she could tell by the look on Cosmo’s face that he was oblivious to the irony of his own words — with magic, the whole cake could indeed be done by now. Sometimes, though, it was more fun to do things the way humans would. To her, the air filling with an enticingly warm, sweet scent as the cakes slowly cooked was a suitable reward for their efforts.

“I guess that’s true,” she said.

After another minute or two, Cosmo sat up. “I know what to do while we wait.”

“Clean up the mess we made?” Wanda asked, as much of a casual suggestion as it was an inquiry.

“Something like that.”

That told her nothing at all, knowing him. She watched as her husband began looking around in search of something.

“Wand, wand, wand,” he repeated to himself, making it clear just what that ‘something’ was. As he floated by the bowl of cake mixture still sitting on the countertop, however, he paused. “Not wand, but…” He grabbed the wooden spoon he’d been using and took it with him as he continued searching.

Wanda would have helped him, but her attention remained caught on him as he began mindlessly licking the chocolate-covered spoon.

She raised an eyebrow. “You better save some of that for me, sugarbiscuit.”

Once again, Cosmo paused, stopped in his tracks. He glanced at her, and she could see it — the gears in his head turning, thinking, and then shifting into mischief mode.

“No,” he said.

Wanda gasped theatrically, rising from her seat. “Cosmo Cosma,” she spoke like a scolding mother.

He was barely able to bite back a grin as she came barreling towards him, trying to grab the spoon. Cosmo didn’t leave her a lot of space to do so, and in her clumsy attempt at finding a good place to grip, she’d mistakenly touched the bowl of the spoon and gotten chocolate on her hands already.

Still, that wasn’t going to deter her. Nor were her husband’s evasive maneuvers as he moved his arms up and away from her, trying fruitlessly to escape her reach. He was giggling all the while.

“Give it!” Wanda barked, her own lower-pitched laughter present in her voice.

“No!” Cosmo said again. “Ehehe–!”

Her hands had closed half around Cosmo’s and half around a small sliver of the spoon, trying to either pry his fingers open or make the whole thing slip out of his grip—whichever might happen first.

“You can lick the bowl, Wanda!” he then exclaimed.

“Ugh, that’s not the same!”

“We still gotta put all the whipped cream on — you can have that!”

“That’s—” For a moment she might’ve said that was a good point, but no. Whipped cream wasn’t chocolate. “—Also not the same!” she huffed.

His grip didn’t budge, nor did he stop moving his arms. If this was how committed to the bit he was going to be, then she’d up the ante as well.

One of her hands let go and came down to jab Cosmo’s side—not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to surprise and tickle. The latter was never hard to do.

“Eee!” Cosmo shrieked and squirmed, losing his grip for a split second.

Wanda yanked the spoon free in that moment with more force than dexterity, a quick victim to losing her own grip and failing to catch it as it tumbled to the floor.

She made a noise of disappointment as she bent down to pick it up.

“Ooops,” Cosmo said with what sounded like genuine sympathy, but he was clearly still amused. “Five second rule?”

Temptation and consideration did cross Wanda’s mind as she assessed the still-chocolatey part of the spoon, but ultimately she decided to toss it into the sink with a sigh. “No, it’s ruined now.”

At least she still had some chocolate on her hands, remnants of their little tussle, to lick off. As she did that she turned on the water and began rinsing the trouble-causing wooden spoon, casting Cosmo and his increasingly suspicious silence a side-eye glance. She did hope he wasn’t starting to think she was being serious.

He’d moved as soon as Wanda’s attention returned to the sink, coming up beside her with his arms around her waist — low enough that she’d have to look down at him. It was, as they both knew, a perfect angle for viewing a pair of big, sweet doe eyes. “I’m sorryyy,” he said, exaggerated enough to tell her he knew they were still playing.

“You think that’s going to work?”

Cosmo’s lashes fluttered. “Yes,” he honestly, boldly replied. “It always does…”

And shoot, he was right. It did always work, but sometimes, like she was trying to do now, Wanda pretended otherwise.

He began swaying his body side to side, trying to get hers to do the same. It took no time at all for her to crack another smile.

“C’mon, my pretty pink lemonade, we’ve still got all these minutes to kill!”

“Ooh,” she said softly, loving a unique choice of nickname. A spontaneous dance as well? There was no resisting that. Within moments, the moving image they joined to make was poles apart from the rowdiness of their earlier grappling, but the laughter was no different.

☆ ☆ ☆

Nearly an hour later, Wanda sat at the kitchen table with her back turned to everything. Cosmo wanted to surprise her with the actual finished product, so she stayed put and waited relatively patiently for it.

There was some entertainment value in listening to her husband’s hums and “there”s and hesitant “uhh”s that tempted her to turn around and check on him, but he’d always follow up with a hurried “nope, you didn’t hear that, everything’s fine!” before she could.

“Away with ye, mess!” he then said, followed by the dinging of his wand — he must’ve finally found it, unless he was using hers.

And then finally, after an audible intake of breath, Cosmo came into view with the finished cake. It reminded her of their first meeting whenever he served things to her like this, minus the part where he dropped it all. He set it down on a tray upon the table, performing a comical little bow as he backed away. “There you are, Mrs. Wifey-of-mine.”

Wanda looked the cake over. It had the layers, the whipped cream, the chocolate shavings on the side, and a load of cherries on top (“spiked” with cherry soda, since neither of them were fond of human alcohol). It made her eyes shine.

“And this,” Cosmo added in a tone that implied he’d almost forgotten. He set the wooden spoon down next to the cake, coated in whipped cream and a few chocolate shavings.

That got her chuckling. Her heart might have melted. “Oh, thank you,” she said, picking up the spoon.

Despite her earlier complaints (about it not being the same if it wasn’t the actual cake mix), it was satisfying to give the thing a good lick. She then decided she’d use it for her first bite of cake. It wasn’t the most elegant way of digging in, nor did it seem very kind to the cake’s integrity, but she didn’t care. She gathered up a good bit of cake, cream, and a singular cherry to shovel into her mouth, closing her eyes and leaning back as all of the flavors hit her. “Mm.”

“Yeah?” Wanda could hear the grin in Cosmo’s voice. “Good?”

“So good, sweetie,” she answered once her mouth wasn’t so full. “But I can’t have all of it. You ought to have some, too.”

“…Can I?”

Wanda snorted, so caught up in her sweet tooth bliss that she nearly forgot their earlier dispute. “I’ll allow it,” she joked. “Just a little bit.”

She scooped up another spoonful of cake, holding it out to him. She held it tightly so he couldn’t pull a fast one on her and take it, however.

“Ooh, wow,” he said after taking his bite, barely waiting until he’d gotten it all down before he kept talking. “My compliments to the chef! That’s me, heehee—with your help, of course.”

“You hardly need my help,” Wanda said with a smile.

“But I like your help.” Cosmo shrugged. “I bet it wouldn’t be as good if it was just me.”

“Of course it would.”

“Good, but not as good,” he clarified with a wink.

Wanda could accept that answer. It was its own cheeky little compliment—a testament to the very well-established fact that to them, everything was only best when it was done or experienced in tandem.

They continued having their fill of cake, chatting about whatever came to mind while trying not to be as messy as before.

Seeing as Cosmo had to indicate once or twice that there was chocolate around Wanda's mouth, though, there was probably no use in pretending that was going to happen.

#fop #fairly oddparents #coswan #my fic #fairly oddparents a new wish #cosmo and wanda

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followthebluebell · 1 year ago

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Cat updates:

Elijah - still waiting on an opening at the neurologist. He's far more active than he was previously, but continues to have difficulty jumping and diminished awareness of what's going on around him. It's... hard to explain. His reaction times to most things are delayed. Like when i gave him a vaccine booster, he tried to bite me well AFTER I stabbed him with the needle. He was AWARE that he was being jabbed; he just didn't react for several seconds and he consistently smacks the air where I USED to be several seconds earlier. It's very odd.

At the same time, he's very intelligent. He was very interested in playing with wand toys right up until he looked up and realized that the wand was being controlled by a PERSON.

He's also still very eerily quiet for a bengal.

Misty - reacting very well to her new low fat diet. TBH she desperately needs to GAIN weight but every time she has a fattier diet, her intestines revolt. Next step is to explore a single protein diet to see if she can adjust.

It doesn't help that she's INCREDIBLY picky XP

Benjamin - waiting for him to gain weight, then his affected eye will be removed surgically.

QT-Pi - great news on this front! He's pooped unassisted for the past few days! This is VERY good progress.

#cat #work

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snapeaddict · 1 year ago

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Snapetober Day 17 - Apple

Loosely referencing previous snippets - a tradition of apple harvesting, and my own headcanon that Severus is a wonderful cook and baker.

Minerva had dropped by unexpectantly, a matter of paperwork which had rapidly transformed into idle chatter. She was still here when Severus knocked on the door for their traditional Saturday game of chess: not that it was unusual for her to join them, but she had originally planned an afternoon of marking.

"Ah, Severus, please come in", Albus said warmly, gesturing towards his usual seat.

It was a gorgeous afternoon in June, and the window, beside his desk, was wide open. Outside Fawkes was flying happily, using the light breeze to carry himself for a while, then flying back to an acceptable height and repeating the process. Severus closed the door behind him. He was carrying something with his left hand - Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have here, my boy?" the headmaster asked, half-rising to clear some space on his desk.

It proved to be difficult: many parchment scrolls fell on the floor, and only Minerva's quick reflexes avoided a catastrophe of spilt ink.

"You know tidying up is an option, right, Albus?" she asked, getting up to put a set of quills away.

"Don't bother, Minerva," Severus replied drily. "Such activity is apparently beyond the headmaster's capabilities."

He put down his burden onto the desk. It looked like a tart mould covered with a white cloth.

"This smells divine", Albus said, purposely changing the subject. "Did you bake for us, Severus?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and cleared the reminder of the desk with her wand.

"An apple pie. There were some fruits left in the cellars - I needed a break from the dunderheads' exams. You would not believe the number of spelling mistakes this year…"

"Why do you think I am here?" Minerva interrupted jokingly.

Gently, Albus put away the cloth, revealing a beautiful, golden pie. It was elegantly ornated with braids of puff pastry, and both Gryffindors could not help but exclaim in admiration.

"Severus! You must really cook for us more often. You know how much I love your cuisine - your apple pies are a particular favourite of mine."

"You do not pay me nearly enough for me to cook on top of teaching, Albus", the younger man replied ironically, but Minerva discerned a slight blush on his cheeks.

She smiled, taking her eyes off him before he would notice her.

"And why were you in the cellars?" she asked, summoning three plates, a knife and a pie server.

"I was attempting to finish my lunch without the house elves pestering me."

"Do not be so hard on them, Severus. They are merely happy to see you eat."

The headmaster set out to cut the pie, and Minerva watched as their younger colleague made no reply. Albus, clearly, was completely oblivious to Severus' obvious lie.

The man rarely baked, and when he did, it was always when prompted to by Albus - he brewed to clear his mind, he did not cook.

She whispered her thanks when the headmaster handed her a plate with a neatly cut slice of pie and lifted her cup of tea to her lips. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Severus glanced rapidly at the headmaster, an almost imperceptible look of contentment gracing his face when the old man let out another expression of delight.

The pie was, indeed, delicious.

Sitting back in her chair comfortably, she gazed at Fawkes who was flying once more towards the sun, purposely breaking a formation of wild geese in the process. Would Albus think this was perfectly innocent?

Sometimes, too, her eyes drifted to the calendar pinned to the wall next to the window and she smiled quietly to herself - it was Father's Day.

---

Written in response to this amazing prompt by anon:

#pro snape #severus snape #minerva mcgonagall #albus dumbledore #snapetober 2023 #snapetober #I like to think once upon a time all was well #And I like to imagine Albus sometimes being oblivious just as I like him knowing it all very well

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cuffmeinblack · 11 months ago

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You Need Only Ask

Garreth Weasley x Ominis Gaunt

Christmas Special

Tags: fluff | slice of life | past trauma | light angst 5.3k words

Summary: Garreth is determined to make Christmas extra special for Ominis and Sebastian, with a bit of Weasley hospitality.

ao3 link

A/n: Technically chapter eight, yet could be read as a standalone because it's just slice of life stuff. Ominis and Garreth are very much in love and share a flat with Sebastian, that's the plot. This is the second fic I've written this year with a Weasley family Christmas, albeit a different generation. What can I say, it's comforting.

Christmas was a joyous occasion, or so Ominis had been told. He supposed the festivities could be fun in a place like Hogwarts, and the food rather marvellous, but for the most part he despised the holiday and all its associations. His hatred set him apart from the rest of his colleagues, who decorated their office with gaudy garlands and an offensively large fir tree that always seemed to snag on his clothes. This was but another trait to thank his wonderful family for. As wizards and muggles alike had settled into their cosy traditions, Tiberius Gaunt had much more sinister motivations. He used the celebrations as an opportunity to lure unsuspecting Muggles, inebriated and distracted, to their manor with promises of extravagance for the festive season. Homeless men and women were offered shelter, food, and drink, all in the name of good will.

These were Ominis' victims.

His source of deepest shame, and the screams he heard in his worst nightmares.

For months he'd been dreading the invitation he knew would be coming, and on the first of December no less it arrived. Not by owl, but by Garreth bounding into their flat and announcing it to Ominis and Sebastian, to be met only with silence. The pair had been quietly reading in the living room, an armchair each and heads buried in their own books, only to be startled out of their concentration by the exuberant redhead. Garreth stammered at their lack of response, but ever the optimist and always keen for a party, he decided to try to change their minds.

“Oh, come on! Do you really want to hang around here for Christmas on our own?”

“Actually, yes,” Ominis said.

“There’ll be loads of food, mum makes the best mince pies. Wait until you’ve tried the pudding! I’ll bet she’d make roast beef for you too, Ominis…”

“I wouldn't mind…”

“There, Sebastian’s already on board!”

Ominis calmly tucked a bookmark between the pages and stowed his wand, placing the hardback next to him as he gathered his thoughts. Of course Sebastian knew exactly why Ominis was so hesitant. He’d told his best friend many years ago, though only once and never again. After that, Sebastian had insisted that Ominis spend his Christmas holidays with him in Feldcroft. This was Ominis’ first festive season with Garreth, and there were still things he’d not yet revealed about his family; whether through shame or because the right opportunity hadn’t presented itself, he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, yet there was no hiding from it now.

“Sebastian, can we have some privacy?” Ominis asked quietly.

He didn't hear his friend reply, met only the shuffle of paper, the shift of weight off the creaking armchair and footsteps receding into silence.

“What’s wrong?” Garreth asked as soon as the door shut behind Sebastian.

He sounded worried, and Ominis felt a surge of guilt for having dampened his spirits so quickly and thoroughly.

“Sit next to me?”

He was soon enveloped by Garreth’s warmth, large hands wrapping his and the press of a firm thigh as he squeezed himself into the chair. Ominis rearranged himself to be practically on Garreth’s lap, not minding the closeness as he barely managed to whisper his explanation.

“I haven’t celebrated Christmas for…well, for as long as I can remember. As a child, my family only used it as an excuse for their sick little games. What celebration could be complete without Muggle torture, after all?”

Ominis exhaled deeply and let out a shaky sigh, recalling the very worst of those memories whilst Garreth waited patiently. His hands were sweaty.

“I remember the Christmas before I went to Hogwarts most vividly. Perhaps my family knew that it would be my last in their company. I never…participated as willingly as my brother. They made sure that I did that year. Christmas Eve, the very last time I cast the cruciatus curse.”

Ominis' shudder seemed to shake the furniture and Garreth gripped him tighter, almost suffocating him with his concern. Ominis thought he might just throw up after confessing such a thing, expecting Garreth to sprint out of the door of their shared home, to never return. Sometimes he thought that it was what he deserved; no matter how much he atoned for his sins, some things could never be forgiven. Garreth had a pure heart, and it was a testament to just how good he was that he didn't hesitate to turn Ominis' face to meet him, their foreheads pressing together as if he were trying to wordlessly absorb Ominis' pain.

“I’m so sorry, my love. That's…disgusting. And you were just a child...”

“You see why my association with Christmas isn't quite normal.”

“I do, but I want to change that.”

“Garreth…”

“Christmas is about family, and being with the people you love. You're…you're my family now, and I want to spend it with you, as it should be. You deserve so much more than what your family gave you…”

Ominis’ heart swelled in his chest, the love he had for Garreth threatening to overflow and smother his niggling doubt and trepidation. It meant so much to Garreth, ever the family man—how could Ominis keep him from them, or worse, make him choose?

“I can't promise I'll be entirely present.”

“I understand. If you want to leave, we can. I know my mum wants to see you, and Sebastian…she's been banging on about it in her owls for weeks now.”

Ominis smiled despite himself. Feeling wanted was a rather new experience, one which he didn't plan to snub.

“I'll come, Garreth.”

Ominis was promptly wrapped up in Garreth's arms, his face nestled amongst wild curls laced with his familiarly spicy scent. He was right, of course—this strange little trio was Ominis' family now, and the Weasleys had all but adopted him into their clan. If anyone could convince him that Christmas was worth celebrating, it was them.

Garreth has started counting the days to Christmas as soon as Ominis had accepted his mum's invitation. He had work to do now, to make Garreth's favourite time of year Ominis' too. Whilst he had grand plans for new brews (and rent to pay besides), he dedicated every spare minute doing all the things he associated with the festive season. Having heard Ominis' frequent grumblings about ‘that damned tree’ at work, he'd decided a little work was in order for that particular tradition.

“What in Merlin's name is that?”

Ah, Sebastian was home, then.

The tired auror-in-training limped into the living room as Garreth was finishing the final touches to his masterpiece and the mince pies he'd baked cooled on the windowsill. They were slightly burnt, but only because he'd been so distracted by what stood in front of him.

“What's wrong with you?” Garreth asked, noticing the way Sebastian was walking. “You look terrible.”

“Thanks. It stinks in here, what did you burn?”

Sebastian flopped into an armchair, loosening his waistcoat and ruffling his hair whilst trying to mask the grimace as his leg bent at an awkward angle.

“Nothing, probably a sprain. I haven't had a chance to do anything about it until now,” he replied, pulling out his wand. “Anyway, you've not answered me—what is that?”

“What does it look like?”

“It looks like a bloody great tree in the middle of our living room. I thought Ominis said no tree.”

“Yes but this one has a cushioning and repellant charm around it so it won't snag on his clothes! I've also enchanted it to stay fresh without water.”

Garreth sniffed the air and sighed. “That fresh fir smell…”

Sebastian was busy muttering a healing charm over his ankle, paying no attention to Garreth's ramblings. Clearly he had his work cut out for him when it came to getting his flatmates into the Christmas spirit.

“I don't know why you've gone to so much trouble,” he finally said.

“Because, it's exciting. Doing all this…it's not just for me. Did you not celebrate when you were younger?”

“When I was much younger, when my parents were still alive…”

Sebastian stared at the floor, deep in thought, and Garreth waited as he clearly had more to say. He placed his wand in his pocket and perched next to his plate of mince pies, staving off the desire to nibble on the pastry.

“Christmas was always so magical as a kid, with Anne…it hasn't been the same since I lost my family. Me and Ominis, we just try to forget.”

“I can take this all down if you want…”

“No, leave it. It's actually nice. Doesn't feel quite as weird as putting them up in Feldcroft.”

Garreth nodded, fighting back the urge to hug Sebastian—that would have been a step too far even for their growing friendship. Instead, he picked up the plate next to him and walked over to where Sebastian was now slumped, looking just about done with the day despite the early hour.

“Mince pie?” Garreth offered with a warm smile.

Sebastian took one and without even a second to inspect it, took a large bite out of the pie, pastry flaking onto his smart black suit. There was a time when he'd refuse anything Garreth offered him for fear of being spiked with some experimental potion. Sebastian's trust meant a lot to Garreth, and not only because it meant a lot to Ominis.

“Mm-…this is really good.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Garreth chuckled.

On Christmas Day, unexpectedly, Ominis woke first. He drifted into consciousness still clinging to a dream that faded with every groggy second; something comforting and sweet that had his chest fluttering. It took him a few seconds to remember today's occasion, laying silently and listening to the pigeons cooing and Garreth's gentle snores. With a groan, he tried to drift off again, burying his head into his boyfriend's hair, yet his mind had finally cleared from its sleep state, rushing and turbulent in its thoughts. He patted the bedside table, over his wand, until he reached a small clock. His fingers drifted over the hands, discerning that it was just past six o’clock.

Well, time for a cup of tea, then.

“Garreth,” he whispered.

“Hmm? Ominis?”

“Good morning. And Merry Christmas.”

“Mm…oh! Christmas!”

Garreth sat bolt upright, almost knocking Ominis out of bed, for which he apologised profusely whilst attacking him with kisses like a lovesick puppy.

“Garreth…Garreth!”

“Right, sorry. Breakfast? What's the time? Six?!”

“I know, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep. I wondered if you wanted a cup of tea in bed.”

“May as well get up now, we can open our presents,” Garreth said, the smile on his face obvious by the tone of his voice.

Ominis allowed himself a few more seconds pressing kisses into Garreth's heated skin before dragging himself out of bed, immediately missing the warmth of their duvet. The flat was cold, the fireplaces empty overnight, so Ominis wrapped himself in a dressing gown, donned his slippers and set to work warming the place with his magic. He could hear Garreth hopping about on the floorboards as he struggled to dress,far too excited for what to Ominis was yet another day. Yet he knew to Garreth, it was one of the highlights of his year, as with millions of others; witches, wizards and muggles alike.

A cup of tea did him wonders, clearing the cobwebs from his brain whilst Garreth started cooking breakfast. Ominis wasn't hungry, but he could eat, and the smell really was delicious. Bacon, sausages and eggs were sizzling away and filling the flat with an aroma that tempted his saliva glands into action. It didn't take long for all of Garreth's clattering about to rouse Sebastian, the first sound from his mouth a loud groan as he shuffled into the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Sebastian!” Garreth called over the scraping and clinking of food being plated up.

“Yeah, Happy Christmas…why are we awake? What's the point in having a day off work if we're going to wake up in the dark?”

“Let Garreth have his day, Sebastian. Don't be such a Scrooge,” Ominis chided, hiding a smirk behind his teacup.

“You read that book, then?”

“Dickens? Yes, I did.”

“And did it get you into the Christmas spirit?” Sebastian asked, sitting next to him at the kitchen table.

“Marginally.”

“Well, here's some more Christmas spirit,” Garreth said, with yet more accompanying noise.

Breakfast was served, along with another pot of tea and some sort of sickly sweet cream liqueur with cinnamon, that Garreth insisted they all try to ‘start the day off right’.

“What exactly is it?” Sebastian asked.

Ominis took a sip of the drink, raising his eyebrows in pleasant surprise as the liquid warmed his insides with just the right amount of spice and a little something that seemed to give him a burst of energy.

“You know I can't tell you my recipes. Suffice it to say, it's next on my list to find a distributor.”

“It's delicious…right, I'm going to get showered and dressed and then we can open our presents,” Ominis announced, his chair scraping along the floor as he stood up hastily.

His brain was running a mile a minute, muscles twitching for something to do. Even his speech had sped up. Without waiting for an answer, he was off, getting ready for the day in record time. He dressed in smart trousers, a crisp shirt and his new waistcoat which Garreth insisted was tastefully festive—as long as it wasn't embroidered with Christmas trees, Ominis didn't mind. The effects of the drink didn't wear off until he'd made it back to the living room, where Garreth and Sebastian were using their boost of energy to argue.

“...just for a few hours, stop making a big deal out of nothing, Weasley.”

The only time Sebastian used Garreth's last name these days was when they argued, which thankfully grew less and less often as time went by. Ominis settled down by the fire and waited for the pair to finish their tiff, reading through the Daily Prophet, scanning the headlines with his wand.

“It’s Christmas day! And you know how much I want to make it special for Ominis. Despite you being an insufferable git sometimes, you are his best friend.”

“Don't drag Ominis into this. I doubt I'll even have to go, so just leave it.”

The mention of his name did, in fact, drag Ominis into the conversation, with a sigh and albeit reluctantly.

“What are you two fussing about now?”

“Sebastian has decided that work is more important than celebrating Christmas with his friends.”

“I've said I'll be on call if anything were to happen. You know, even criminals and dark wizards celebrate Christmas, so I'm not expecting much action today,” Sebastian drawled.

“It's fine, Garreth. You are right about him being an insufferable git sometimes though, I will give you that,” Ominis said.

“Oh, charming. Just because Weasley spends his time cooking for a living, doesn't mean some of us don't have real jobs.”

“Sebastian.”

Ominis knew he'd crossed a line and he stood up to find Garreth's side before things could escalate further. The last thing he needed was to mediate some ridiculous shouting match on a day he was already slightly dreading.

“Stop it, both of you. For me.”

Garreth huffed and let Ominis pull him to the sofa whilst Sebastian threw himself into an armchair in silence. Neither would willingly apologise, but Ominis would take the cessation of hostilities for now. There were presents to open and spirits to maintain until the Weasley family party later that morning. Garreth was thankfully quick to forget any tensions as soon as he was passed a gift, wrapped by Ominis' own hand, it likely looked a mess; but no matter, the paper was swiftly ripped apart anyway.

“Brilliant! Wait, Ominis, these must have cost far too much…”

Ominis had bundled together his favourite sweets; treacle fudge, chocolate frogs and honeycomb; along with something a little more extravagant he knew would be appreciated. The Chudley Cannons tickets were hard to come by, but a colleague thankfully had contacts in the Ministry's Department of Magical Games and Sports—Ominis had been told the seats were excellent, and judging by Garreth's cheering, it hadn't been a lie.

“Enjoy it. If I can't spend my hard earned money on the man I love then what is the point in enduring my colleague’s gossipping?” Ominis said.

“You're incredible, you know,” Garreth replied, wrapping him up in a tight embrace.

“My thanks is not having to attend with you.”

Garreth chuckled and squeezed his hand.

“Maybe I'll ask Oscar…he'll owe me forever.”

“How am I meant to follow that?” Sebastian sighed.

Of course all three of them were grateful for every gift exchanged, even if the thanks between Garreth and Sebastian were still a little frosty. Sebastian received books, charmed gloves, a handsome tie pin and a bottle of fine firewhiskey; Garreth yet more sweets, a selection of potioneer’s tools and a cashmere jumper that would likely end up singed within the week; Ominis a selection of music, sugar quills and smart new brogues. Garreth had saved Ominis' final present for the end, handing him a small box tied with ribbon.

“It's a bit experimental, I hope it's okay…”

“Another drink?” Ominis asked, pulling a tiny glass bottle out of the box.

The bottle’s glass was ornately cut and the stopper wasn't suitable for a drink. As soon as Ominis pulled it off, he understood. The earthy, leathery scent hit him, along with a hint of patchouli if he wasn't mistaken.

“Did you make this?”

“Yes…I've never tried perfume before but I thought well, how hard could it be? Erm…is it okay?”

Ominis dabbed the concoction on his neck, inhaling deeply.

“It's delightful,” Ominis sighed. “You can add perfumer to your list of talents.”

Sebastian made himself scarce as soon as Ominis decided to show Garreth just how much he appreciated his gift, kissing him fervently until the newfound privacy prompted a yet more heated exchange. Ominis almost dragged him back to bed with his cock throbbing needily inside his tailored trousers, not returning until after he'd buried himself inside his boyfriend and heard his addictive moans. All in all, his Christmas was shaping up to be far better than any he'd previously experienced.

Despite waking so early, they were now running rather late. The impromptu trip to the bedroom hadn’t really helped matters, though Garreth certainly wasn’t complaining about that. He'd given up trying to tame his curls, running a little pomade through the fringe in some attempt at tidiness and called it a job well done. Sebastian and Ominis were waiting for him by the fireplace, holding yet more presents and sporting the gifts they'd received earlier that morning; new shoes, new tie pin, new jumper. Today would involve a whole host of newness—whilst the Weasley family home was now familiar to them all, the idea of a big Christmas celebration was not. With a slight churn of his stomach that signalled nerves, he took the lead in guiding his flatmates into the floo.

He was greeted not by his mum, but by his brother Oscar, who appeared to be on guest welcoming duty. He slapped Garreth on the back and directed them to the back of the house, where his family had been hard at work transforming the overflowing kitchen and conservatory into an impressive party space, all encased in warming charms and candlelight. The pièce de résistance in Garreth's view was the Christmas tree—cut from the local forest, it had been decorated with handmade baubles and sprigs of holly, just as it had been when he was a child.

“Hey, Os…want to see the Cannons with me?”

“Hm, what do you mean?” His brother asked whilst nibbling on a mince pie (completely unburned, unlike his own).

“Ominis got me tickets to their match against the Wasps!”

“Are you serious? Of course I want to come! Nice one, Ominis!”

Oscar pulled an unsuspecting Ominis into a hug, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. His older brother was an even bigger Quidditch enthusiast than himself; he'd even entertained the idea of playing professionally once. When he'd relinquished his grip on a chuckling Ominis, Oscar leaned over to Garreth as he walked past, his mouth close to his ear.

“Marry that one, brother.”

And with that, Oscar was gone, only to be replaced with his mum, bedecked in Christmas decorations of her own.

“Mum…,” Garreth grumbled, looking her up and down.

“Looking good, Mrs Weasley,” Sebastian commented, turning her cheeks pink.

Garreth rolled his eyes. He was used to a festive jumper or sprig of berries in her hair, but she'd really gone all out this year. The flower crown of festive foliage atop her head appeared to be sparkling, or rather sparking with tiny red lights, and her handmade dress was embroidered with gold stars from top to toe.

“Sebastian, Ominis, lovely to see you both,” Harriet said. “Get yourself a drink, we've plenty.”

“I've more here, Mrs Weasley. A little something for you and Mr Weasley, though perhaps you might like to keep it for yourselves,” Ominis said, handing over his present.

The bottle of vintage cognac had cost a pretty knut, but Ominis had insisted. Harriet clutched the bottle tightly whilst quite speechless, not used to such extravagance. Garreth had thought she might be embarrassed by the gesture, but instead she was elated, calling Griffith over to open it right away, eager to share it amongst their friends and family. As the trio wove their way through the room, they greeted the rest of Garreth's siblings and relatives with Charlotte staying close by to Ominis and Sebastian. They indulged her endless barrage of questions as if she'd been deprived of their company for years rather than a couple of months.

The party began to fill the house, slowly but steadily until lunch was served; a traditional roast goose with stuffing and all the trimmings, and there was even a small side of roast beef that he knew as for Ominis’ benefit. Griffith thanked everyone for joining them with a toast as the extended table groaned under the weight of food. Of course, every dish was delicious. Glazed carrots, four different types of potatoes and lashings of gravy were passed from one end of the table to the other until everyone's plates were full. Sebastian seemed to be enjoying the company of Garreth's cousin next to him and paying the rest of them no mind, but Ominis stayed close to Garreth with their hands clasped under the table whilst he made small talk with another Weasley that Garreth couldn't quite place.

The sun was setting by the time dessert came, and the sky an inky black as the last mouthful of Christmas pudding was finished. Stuffed with food and drink, Garreth slumped against the back of his chair and let Ominis' head rest against his shoulder. Presents still hadn't been opened, yet Garreth always preferred the food, company and games at Christmas. At one point, he'd have been running around with Oscar and wreaking havoc, but now that crown had passed to his sister and younger cousins who were just as eager to disrupt the adults’ conversations with demands for gifts and practical jokes.

“A word, Garreth?”

The question came from his aunt Matilda who had appeared out of nowhere, jolting Garreth out of his stupor.

“Oh, hello auntie…yes, okay.”

Muttering an apology to Ominis, Garreth followed her out into the living room. She'd adopted her ‘professor persona’, clasping her hands in front of her and peering at him with a calmly professional smile. Garreth almost flinched away, reminded of the countless times he'd looked into those eyes and subsequently been told off for something-or-other.

“We're having a career day at Hogwarts in the new term, you remember those?”

“Yes…”

“Well, would you like to come back to Hogwarts and talk to the O.W.L students about your entrepreneurial venture? I'm sure they'd appreciate hearing from you amongst the healers and aurors and teachers.”

Garreth was almost stunned into silence. Almost. If there was any time to punch the air and brag, it would have been now. Instead, he smiled widely and tried his best to contain his excitement.

“Of course. Maybe I can even bring along my new brew for students to try? Well, maybe not that one…unless they're allowed a little swig of alcohol…no? No…”

His aunt was now looking at him with raised eyebrows, likely wondering what had possessed her to approach her nephew for this important role.

“I'm sure you'll think of something more suitable, Garreth. Now, back to the party, I have a delicious-looking Christmas cake to tuck in to.”

Buzzing with pride, Garreth returned to where he'd left Ominis, finding only his little sister in a flood of tears. Charlotte's curls bounced as she sobbed and Garreth pushed them out of her face as he crouched to meet her eye line.

“Charlotte, calm down…what's wrong?”

His sister didn't seem willing or able to reply. It wasn't long before he was joined by their mother, fussing and shoving Garreth out of the way.

“What's wrong, sweetheart? Tell mummy!”

“I just asked her that, she won't…”

“I was…was talking to Omi…and…,” Charlotte sniffled, wiping her eyes on her frock. “...he got really upset. I didn't mean…I wasn't mean!”

Garreth's mind blanked for a second and then kicked into a frenzy. He spun around, looking for his boyfriend amongst the sea of red, only spotting Sebastian's chestnut mane as he chatted animatedly to Garreth's cousin. With Charlotte in the care of his mum, Garreth fled, winding through the crowd to get to Sebastian. He felt awful, more than awful. Clearly Ominis hadn't been ready, he'd pushed too hard. His hand landed on a shoulder and earned him an irritated scowl; clearly Sebastian had been turning on his charm judging by the way his cousin was grinning and twirling her hair.

“Have you seen Ominis?”

“No…no, why?”

“I think he's run away, I don't know.”

“What? Run away where?”

“Just bloody help me look, will you?”

They both muttered their apologies and started their search. Garreth kept his eyes peeled for blond hair, easily recognisable amongst his family. He wasn't in the living room, the hallways, the kitchen. They stood in the conservatory, looking out into the night and Garreth wondered if he'd simply gone home. The thought filled him with sadness. Sebastian suggested searching upstairs, but then Garreth saw him; or rather the flash of his brand new brogue poking out from behind the Christmas tree.

“Ominis…?”

Ominis was leaning against the glass, deep in thought and arms crossed defensively. Though his head tilted downwards, Garreth could see the slight redness around his eyes and prayed to Merlin he hadn't been crying.

“Are you okay, Ominis?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes, I'm fine.”

Sebastian gave Garreth a look of concern, but stepped back. No matter how close the friends were, he devolved to Garreth this time. He knew that Garreth had Ominis' best interests at heart, and saw first hand how much he loved his best friend.

“Tell me what happened, Ominis.”

“It’s nothing. Charlotte was asking me questions about my family Christmases and…I panicked. I had no idea what to say, so I left. I must apologise to her…,” he said, making to leave.

But Ominis hesitated after taking only a step. He seemed apprehensive to leave his hiding place in the conservatory, as if the idea of rejoining the crowds was suddenly overwhelming.

“We could stay, if you want? Or go for a walk?”

“Isn’t it snowing?”

Garreth looked out across the garden, blanketed in a thick layer of snow yet the sky was peacefully clear. Not even the trees in the nearby woodland swayed, the air so still that barely a leaf rustled.

“Not anymore.”

Ominis nodded his approval, hastening to leave the glass enclosure like a trapped mouse. Once outside, he calmed, the remaining din from the party silenced by the thick stone walls of the cottage. They walked, not knowing where to—the destination wasn’t important, merely that they were together, alone at last. Ominis kept them warm with a charm that melted the snow beneath their feet forming puddles that froze as soon as they passed. A winding trail of ice to mark their meandering. Garreth held his hand tightly, letting Ominis unwind in the silence. To not talk was a challenge for him, truth be told, but he employed every shred of patience and self-restraint he had until Ominis finally spoke.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Garreth.”

“Don’t be sorry, please. I’m sorry for pushing you to come. I can’t exactly blame Charlotte, she’s just curious...”

“No, I don’t blame either of you. There’s none to lay. I really have had a wonderful time. Perhaps…it’s time for me to talk about my family more, so moments like this don’t catch me unawares.”

“Only if you want to.”

“I think I do. At least, I want to share it with you—all of it. There are horrors in my past and skeletons in my closet that frankly I’ve been terrified to speak of, in case they scared you off.”

“Ominis, you could tell me you’re the devil himself and I’d still love you.”

Ominis smiled serenely, the curve of his lips lit only by the soft moonlight and smattering of stars. Garreth meant every word. There may have been a time he’d have been horrified to hear what he had, yet now he knew Ominis; knew unequivocally that he was good, kind, and nothing at all like his father and brother.

“Shall we head back inside? I imagine your family misses you.”

“Not likely. Do you want to stay out here a little while? I can conjure us a couple of chairs and we can enjoy the silence before the storm.”

“By storm you mean your sister?”

“Of course,” Garreth grinned.

“I’d love to,” Ominis said in barely a whisper, squeezing Garreth’s hand and pulling him to a stop.

They were quite a way from the house now; the illuminated windows mere pinpricks in the distance. The cottage was inviting, sure enough, yet with magic they could create all the cosiness they could want. Hidden by a large box hedge, Garreth set to conjuring a couple of basic chairs, blankets and bluebell flames encased in jars which he levitated to head-height. The flames didn’t give off much heat, but Ominis worked on warming charms to envelop the pair as they settled next to each other, their fingers still tightly laced.

“I could get used to this, you know,” Ominis sighed. “The idea of Christmas, I mean. The memories are still there, but they're not as potent when I'm with you and your family.”

“It will get easier, I promise,” Garreth said, turning his attention from the clear night sky to the person he loved most.

“I'd like to talk about my aunt, if that's okay.”

“I'd love to hear about her.”

Ominis told Garreth all about the woman who had influenced him growing up, her kindness helping to shield him from his family's influence and moulding him into the man he was today. Garreth felt eternally grateful, despite never having met her. He wished he had. In many ways, she sounded like his own mother—strong, fiercely protective and always willing to do what was right, despite the repercussions. Garreth held Ominis close as he told him the stories. It must have been painful, as well as cathartic and bittersweet to share, but by the end of the night, Ominis was smiling, and that's all Garreth had wished for this Christmas.

#garreth weasley #ominis gaunt #garrinis #ominis gaunt x garreth weasley

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ask-elland-n-will · 16 days ago

Note

[Polyjuice Swap 2024!]

(Thank you for this wonderful event, Lily!)

── ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ─☆:⭑🍂🍁🦇🍁🍂🕸⭑:☆─ ⋆⋅🎃⋅⋆ ──

Vetiti had never been more pleased with a look in his life. The black-haired beauty was staring back at him from the mirror. His reflection had morphed into sharp, elegant features and shiny raven hair that shimmered like midnight silk. A wide smile stretched across his face, utterly captivated by his reflection, his eyes twinkled with delight as he traced a finger along his newly transformed cheeks, giving them a firm squeak.

"Ciao, bella," he whispered, mesmerised. He had turned into Signorina @adallegra! Who would've thought? He did a little jump, clapping his hands together in glee. Tonight was going to be nothing short of bellissimo! This was going to be a great evening, he could just feel it! Luck was surely going to be on Titi's side!

With newfound enthusiasm and confidence, "Allegra" swung the door open, practically knocking it off its hinges. Determination scrawled across his (or rather, her) face. The Italian milk maniac had one mission, and he knew exactly how to begin.

This would be the night! Tonight, he thought, heart racing, he would finally get his hands on Sebastian's Niffler! Just imagining it filled him with giddy excitement, and "Allegra's" mouth started to water at the thought of the sweet, white essence that would soon be his. Finally, he would be able to really enjoy his bowl of cereal with real Niffler milk!

He barely managed one step outside before a sharp, disapproving voice snapped, halting him in his tracks. He turned to see a Gryffindor prefect eyeing him up and down with one raised brow.

"You don’t actually see that as appropriate for the evening, do you? Ugh." She sneered, giving him a slow, disapproving look as she flicked her wand, transforming his slightly raggedy clothes into a crisp Slytherin uniform, complete with a skirt. Titi's eyes went wide as he looked down, taking in the swoosh of the skirt's hem.

"Ooooh," Vetiti breathed delighted, already twirling in circles, entirely smitten by his new attire. It felt so breezy! He grinned at the prefect, appreciating her work. He might just have to wear a skirt more often.

It was then that Vetiti took a quick survey of the crowd, hoping to spot his target. But alas, Sebastian was nowhere in sight. "Oh well," the Hufflepuff sighed, brushing a dramatic lock of Allegra's long, dark hair from his face. "Perhaps he'll show up later." There was no need to worry. After all, there were plenty of other amusements waiting.

With a quick flick of his skirt, "Allegra" made his way over to the snack table. The spread was glorious! Pies, pastries, fruits, and cakes towered on the table in decadent stacks, a cornucopia of treats that made his stomach growl. But none quite sparked the specific delight he was after. Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, the Italian lad started to play with his new, long hair, twirling the silky locks around his finger as he pondered what to eat, eyes narrowing in concentration.

Just then, as if summoned by his very thoughts, a house elf appeared balancing a tray of hearty appetisers, each smelling more delightful than the last. Vetiti was sure he spotted something that resembled some Gouda and practically floated over, his steps light and bouncy as he eyed the tray with eager delight.

[This RP is a part of the Halloween Polyjuice Swap 🎃 Previous Elland's rp. Our apologies to @adallegra]

It was a flick of the green skirt that got Elland's attention first. Of course she wouldn't be wearing a costume, Halloween or not. He thought he had seen the familiar hair as well, but the figure got lost among the partying students. Not that Elland would ever say it to her face, but her height made it easy to blend in. He wasn't aware how much of a difference they had until the first time they danced together. But it couldn't have been her, could it? Will swore that Allegra didn't plan on going, and if Will couldn't convince her — Elland saw no point in trying himself.

A snack bar it is then. Elland was parched. But just as he reached for a glass of sparkling water, he nearly bumped into a house-elf who suddenly apparated next to him.

"Ah, excuse me, let me help you with the—" the Hufflepuff in Sebastian's skin began and abruptly stopped talking altogether: a familiar figure gracefully floated towards him. The house-elf, unnerved by the Slytherin student's eagerness to do the elf job, took the opportunity to put the tray where it was supposed to go and exit the scene.

Elland looked at Allegra, stunned by her presence for a moment before clearing his throat and giving the Slytherin witch a deep gentlemanly bow. It would've looked so much more impressive if he had his phoenix costume on: all the beautiful firecharms dancing across the cloth and feathers, sparks coming from under his dancing shoes wherever he stepped, the faint sounds of the crackling fire and the pleasant smell of the fireplace. But alas, he was playing a different role. Wait.

"Sebastian" looked up in panic. No way Allegra would hang around when he was Sebastian! He had to let her know it was him, without alerting the other students around them.

"Allegra! So good to see you!" he called out and let her get to the snack table as for some reason Allegra seemed very interested in the elf's cheese platter. Elland had never seen her like that and he wondered if she had some butterbeer before coming here. He kept those thoughts to himself. Allegra was smiling while playing with her hair, and Elland found it rather endearing.

"I've been meaning to return your scarf from a while back, forgive me for holding onto it for so long," is what Elland settles on. Hopefully, his smile, attitude towards her, and the reference to the act itself were enough for her to realize who he was. The thought of Allegra not being Allegra never even crossed his mind. It was as clear as day that it was not her style. Perhaps she just stopped by for the snacks. After all, the Slytherin common room is not far from here.

#elland #“sebastian”#Vetiti #“Allegra”#[My poor boy is so sure it's real Allegra]#[He just wants to spend time with her]#[It took me a while case of work week and other responcibilities and rps but here it is!!!!]#[Magnificent ask oh my god!!!!]

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