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doodlegirl12345 · 1 year

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Doodle’s Anthology: Winter Things {2/3}

Hello my everyone, it’s time for part two of my newest series “Doodle’s Anthology”. I hope you enjoyed the first installment and if this is your first time encountering one of these posts. Welcome, I hope you enjoy the stories that I have written. This a small collection of stories that I had written under a similar theme.

This is the second installment and other parts links will be provided: Section 1. Section 2. Section 3.

I hope you enjoy what I had been working on. So let’s continue with the second story: Winter Wonderland.

Winter Wonderland

Theme: Winter Things

The moment she had stepped out of her home, the feeling of being transported to a winter wonderland had transcended. She knew what awaited her from peeking through the thinly frosted windows of her home. Although having the experience to step right into it was a different experience. Glacial winds blew through the snow blanketed Parisian city. Almost if this an attempt to create a secondary snowstorm. Despite the streets being scraped clean by the snow plows, the painted on winter landscape from the day before remained.

Winter for some seemed to be an annual burden to endure its given abrasiveness. For others it can be seen as a gift from nature, constantly displaying beauty since nature is always creating. An attribute Marinette Dupain-Cheng deeply appreciated while strolling down the shoveled sidewalk in downtown Paris with awe. Greatly contributing to her already existing excitement she brought into frosty Sunday afternoon. Naturally, she was dressed for the weather. The designer wore a cream white babydoll sweater, soft pink skinny jeans, tan snow boots with white faux fur around the collars.

Over the sweater was a jet black pea coat with light gray edges. A soft silky pink scarf with matching tassels wrapped around her neck. Black gloves covered her hands while her trademark pink purse hung across the designer’s body. A departure from its usual style, her hair was done in adorable twin fishtail braids covering her ears. She had donned a soft pink beret while carrying a large teal gift bag in her hands.

Her kwami popped her head out of the guardian’s purse wearing the winter apparel: a black dotted red sweater and a black hat knitted for her. “Wow, the city looks so pretty. It looks like a scene from one of those holiday movies.”

“I figured you would like it considering your reaction during this time last year, Tikki,” Marinette smiled while rounding the corner. “You were practically giddy to see wintertime in Paris.”

“How could I not be? That was the first time that I had seen snow in years. This year so far has been no different, it’s all still wonderful.”

“I’m glad that you kept your enthusiasm. There’s nothing wrong with that since I like winter too. I’m also glad that despite the storm yesterday the buses were still running or I would be meeting up with Luka today the less conventional way.”

“You would’ve got to still see him either way. Or that means all the humming you this morning would’ve been for nothing.”

“Hey,” the designer slightly blushed. “I was just in a good mood since Luka sent me a text confirming that he was back from his trip and our plans today haven’t changed. I was concerned about his flight being delayed.”

“It must be a bit of a tonal whiplash to spend the entire winter vacation in the Canary Islands only to return to Paris after the snowstorm. I hope that Luka and Juleka had a good time.”

“Me too. From the pictures that Juleka posted it seemed like it. The beaches looked gorgeous.”

“At least they’re back now. I know how much you missed them. Especially Luka over the holidays.”

“I did. To be honest, it felt weird not having him here. I guess because this was supposed to be our first Christmas together as a couple. We haven’t been together for long but it felt like someone was missing in my life.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? I thought humans have a saying: that distance makes the heart grow fonder. If you didn’t miss him at least a little bit then your feelings for him might’ve faded.”

“That’s a good point. It also means if he’s ever invited to leave the city again. I’m going to lock him in my bedroom.” Marinette said jokingly. “It wouldn’t be so bad he could have all the cookies and croissants he ever wanted.”

“Luka was hesitant about going just in case you needed help. He also wasn’t keen on missing out on your first Christmas together.”

“True, but I reminded him that this trip was a perfect opportunity to meet his dad’s side of the family. Especially since he and Juleka had been kept in the dark for so long. Besides what kind of person would I be to stop a chance like this for someone that I love. Too bad that I couldn’t accept Jagged’s invitation to go, you know for obvious reasons.”

The designer flashed a strained smile replaying the day in her mind when she learned about the trip. It was the first week of December when she had arrived at Liberty. She planned to show her recent designs for some Kitty Section merchandise to Luka and Juleka. To her surprise, Jagged and Penny were there. This led Luka to tell her about the trip his father had sprung on the family moments ago. Jagged had invited them to the annual trip with his side of the family over the holidays.

Traditionally, a warmer climate is often chosen to combat the winter blues. Due to their family situation had become more amicable over the past months. The rockstar wanted to bring his children to spend the holidays together. Even extending the invite to Ms. Couffaine. Out of kindness, he also extended to Marinette with all expenses paid, of course. Temptation stirred in her mind about the possibility of enlisting Alya in temporarily taking over her role. However, she declined the invitation leaving Jagged surprised.

But he understood after the designer mentioned plans with her own family. Her decision was not because of a lack of faith in her best friend. On the contrary, it did not seem fair unloading her daunting responsibilities to go on a luxury vacation with her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Alya would have to bear the weight of the world with Chat Noir. Marinette also remembered all the times she had gone beyond Paris’ inner city limits. Each time something went wrong, with all her new responsibilities she couldn’t let it happen again.

The designer did not have the luxury to jet off on a whim anymore. Although it did not mean Luka had to abstain from the same luxury. That was what she told him once they were able to be alone to talk. The musician understood her answer due to her knowing her secret. He did express concern with her being a few teammates short in case of Shadow Moth attacking. Along with the plans they were considering over winter break.

Marinette told him that she should not be the reason why he could not meet the other side of his family. Especially since he had those questions before they even met. She told him that everything including her will be fine and she will be waiting for him to return. However since the announcement of the trip there was a subtle but unnerving feeling that seemed to trail behind her. It seemed to even worsen after Luka left. Even though her days had been filled up with school, holiday celebrations, spending time with friends and some hero work. The feeling never seemed to fully subside, giving occasional pangs of guilt.

Tikki gave a sympathetic look before her eyes shifted to the side. “You’re not too cold are you? The outfit that Kaalki had picked out is warm enough, right?”

“I’m fine,” the designer smiled before checking the street sign she was about to pass, confirming they were getting close to her destination. “The outfit she picked out is pretty cute. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t be wearing it. But I was just surprised how quick she jumped at me last night when I mentioned about not being sure what to wear.”

“You haven’t been the first guardian that Kaalki had given fashion advice. Master Fu, he had gotten so many suggestions to spice up his wardrobe. It seemed that you were the first one to listen.”

“I mainly wanted to see what she would come up with. Especially with her talk I shouldn’t settle for less than what I truly deserve because of who I am. Has Kaalki always been like this?”

“I think some of the fashion reality shows she’s been watching during her screen time might be part of it. Although Kaalki has always been the type who believes no one should settle for less than what they deserve. That no one should hold themselves back. My guess is she’s trying to influence you to think the same about yourself.”

“That’s sometimes hard to do with the type of decisions that I have to make.”

“It also could be her way of saying thank you for all the gifts you made for everyone for Christmas,” Tikki patted her own sweater. “With helping out in her own way.”

“Speaking of gifts,” the designer gripped the blue gift bag in her hand. “Hopefully Luka likes the gift that I had made him. I wondered why he wanted me to meet him downtown instead of Liberty.”

“Well…” the kwami grinned while peering over the rim of the purse before tucking herself back inside. “Why don’t you just go over there and ask him?”

Marinette looked up, causing her gaze to fall onto the street across from her. In front of a frost covered iron gate stood Luka. Just like her, the musician was dressed for the weather. He was wearing a black puffer jacket, dark rinse blue jeans, black laced up insulated snow boots, black gloves and a black knitted hat covering up his blue hair. Her blue eyes instantly lit up, suddenly those days he had been gone now felt like years. Luka must’ve felt eyes on him because he slid his phone into his coat pocket before smiling and waving.

Without another thought, Marinette crossed the street with an excited dash. “Luka!”

Practically launching herself into his arms once the chance of reconnecting was gifted. Luka appeared equally happy as he swung her around into a warm embrace.

“Hi,” the designer squeaked with excitement, wrapping her arms around him after being put down.

“Hey,” the musician smiled while cupping her cheek.

Their eyes met before their lips tenderly touched each other eventually melting into a passionate kiss. Seconds later after their kiss had broken. Marinette held her boyfriend closer, a comfort that she had surely missed.

“I missed you so much,” she told him. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”

“I missed you too,” he told her. “It felt like forever not seeing you.”

“Same. So did everyone get back here okay? There was no problem because of yesterday’s storm, right?”

“Nope, we actually got right around the time it started snowing. What I mean by that is we were literally waiting for all our luggage when it started.”

“Wow, that was a close call. Any later your flight might’ve been canceled or delayed.”

“We have to thank Penny. She had been checking the weather throughout the vacation. Once Penny heard about the snow storm she got tickets for an earlier flight than what was originally planned. If she didn’t do that we probably would be arriving today at best.”

“Classic Penny, thinking ahead like the amazing person that she is.”

Luka nodded. “Agree, not trying to disrespect my dad anything. But after our trip it’s pretty clear who’s keeping track of everything in his life. She also was a big help with doing some translating by being multilingual. Along with my dad and a few other family members.”

“So how was the trip? Was it everything that you wanted?”

“It was great. Not only did I meet my dad’s side of the family. But turns out my dad has a brother and a sister. So I have an aunt and uncle.”

“Really? All the stuff that I read on Jagged when I first got into his music never mentioned siblings. In fact, I thought he had said that he was an only child because he’s one of a kind.”

“That’s what I thought too. It turns out my dad had only said that because they asked him not to mention them in interviews. Not due to them disapproving of his career but they did not want to be constantly harassed or approached in public due to their connection to him. Or people befriending them so he could do them favors.”

“Actually, that makes sense. Some people are willing to do anything for fifteen minutes of fame. I know better than anyone else about keeping important secrets.”

“True, that’s one of the reasons why I’m telling you. It definitely won’t spread with you. Their names are Lee and Katherine by the way. Turns out that I also have four cousins.”

“Whoa, are any of them around our age?”

“Well Selena and Maria are both twelve. While Josh is fourteen and Carly is sixteen.”

“Selena and Maria both are twelve? So that means they’re both twins?”

“Yep,” Luka smiled. “It turns out that twins are actually very common in our family. Selena and Maria were very sweet but mainly latched onto Jules since they’re interested in makeup like she is. They’re mainly wanting to turn thirteen so my Aunt Katherine and their dad, Uncle Charlie, are going to allow them to wear it more often. It seemed that Juleka was stunned to have two people paying so much attention to her. But it seemed by the end of the trip the three of them got really close.”

“Aww, what about Josh and Carly?”

“They’re pretty cool, we hung out a lot at the beach together, they’re pretty cool. They’re my Uncle Lee and Aunt Renee’s kids. I did get around writing a few songs for Kitty Section. My dad even helped out with a few of them.”

“That’s great.”

“Those aren’t the only good things that happened. I also met my grandparents: Grandpa Tyler and Grandma Sophie. But get this, during the whole trip my parents did not fight once.”

“Wow, not to be too blunt but it really does sound like a Christmas miracle.”

“You’re not wrong, I know that they’re never going to get back together. But it seems now they can be in the same room without biting each other’s heads off. I’m grateful for that, for it seems that all the big life changing secrets are now out in the open. I finally got to know the other side of my family. I just wished it happened sooner.”

“Well it’s better late than never. I’m glad that you finally met your family. It’s great that you got to know more about where you came from.”

“So is there anything else that you want to know about?”

“Well…just one little thing.”

“What’s that?”

She gently pulled away from him before gesturing at the frost covered gate. “What’s the deal with us meeting here? Usually we hang out at either Liberty or my place. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Luka smirked. “I was wondering when you were going to bring that up.”

“I knew it!” the designer declared. “What are you up to?”

The musician extended out his hand. “It’s a surprise. Just take my hand.”

Their fingers became intertwined as Luka guided her through the frosted gate. After a few footsteps there was the sound of snow crunching underneath their feet. The designer looked around, observing the scenery that surrounded them. It seemed that they were in a snow covered field with a few trees. In the distance, from what she could make out was a house but it looked like a speck from where they were standing. It looked nice but wasn’t very remarkable.

“Hold on tight,” Luka instructed, while continuing to guide her. “It’s a bit of a walk.”

“So this surprise, it’s something you couldn’t do or bring on Liberty?”

questioned the designer while tightly gripping the gift bag in her free hand as the couple continued their pursuit.

“Not unless you want it to capsize,” the musician told her.

“It’s big isn’t it?” she squealed. “Okay I just got even more enthusiastic, and with you coming back. I did not think that was possible.”

“Maybe I should turn around,” Luka teased. “The last thing that I want is for you to do is kneel over.”

“Don’t you dare,” she told him. “You can’t make statements like you did and not follow through when you can. Is it possible that I can get a hint?”

“Alright, one won’t hurt. It’s based on something that we talked about before I left.”

“Before you left…but we talked at least every other day. That really doesn’t narrow anything down.”

“I guess you have to wait a bit longer. Don’t worry, it’s not that far. So what about you? Did anything exciting happen to you when I was gone?”

“I got a commission.”

“You did?” Luka smiled.

“Yeah, it’s supposed to be a custom sweet sixteen party dress for a girl named Ashley,” she explained. “She contacted me about through my fashion blog that Alya had me make a while back. Ashley won’t need the dress until late May. So I have at least four months to do it.”

“That’s awesome, I’m happy for you. How was Adrien’s Christmas Eve party?”

“It was fun. Turns out Rose was my secret Santa. She got me this big box of different colored thread and a bag of chocolate truffles. It is probably the best thing she could’ve gotten me with the twenty euros spending limit. I’ll definitely use it for the commission. There was even a spool of rainbow thread.”

“Did Sabrina like my secret Santa gift?”

“Yeah, she was wearing one of the headbands that you got her when she came over to work on her Ladybug cosplay on Friday. There’s a thank you card in your gift bag from her. She gave it to me since she knew I was going to see you today.”

“I thought that there were plans about taking the kids to the Winter Festival yesterday. How did that pan out?”

“It got rescheduled because of the snow. So Nino, Alya and I are going to take Manon, Ella, Etta and Chris next Saturday. The girls did play in the snow yesterday and made some snow angels. It was pretty cute-“

Suddenly she could feel Luka stop himself almost if he had planted feet in the snow, he was smiling. The designer’s eyes wander upwards, breaking her gaze with him before letting go of his hand. Suddenly she became entranced in awe and wintery beauty. Stretched beyond her were blankets of pillowy snow surrounding a large outdoor rink with a ring of white wooden fencing leaving enough space for people to get in and out of the rink. A snow path was dug out leading toward the rink.

There were a few wooden benches scattered throughout the area. One bench close to the rink that had caught her attention had a small pink gift bag, a small black portable phone speaker and two pairs of ice skates. Above the rink hung multiple snowflake lights arranged similar to a canopy that was fastened at the ends of the rink. Enclosed by nature, the perimeter was lined with trees draped with icicles and snow. Several feet away from the rink was a small gazebo methodically wrapped with light string lights.

Meanwhile snow dusted roses that framed the bottom. The atmosphere felt secluded but mystical. It felt she had been truly transported to winter wonderland.

“Is this for us?” Marinette her gaze returned to Luka’s eyes.

“Surprise,” he told her. “At least it’s one of them. Do you like it?”

“Like it? This place is beautiful. What gave you this idea?”

“Remember my hint? It was based on something that we talked about before I left. You mentioned back in October that you wanted us to go ice skating when it got colder. Just the two of us.”

“That was months ago. You remembered that?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“Thank you,” she embraced him once more. “This is so pretty. Did you set all this up yourself? That must’ve taken a while.”

“Actually I had some help,” he told her before starting to wave. “Jaden over here!”

The designer turned, letting go to see a boy around their age approaching them. He had umber skin, a reddish brown, chestnut brown eyes and black braided mid length hair. Styled in a side swept undercut. He was wearing a green puffer jacket with a gray fur lined hood, black denim jeans, gray gloves and gray lace snow boots.

“Hey,” he greeted them. “Luka, I secured the circuit breaker. So the lights shouldn’t be flickering like it did before. Everything should be fine.”

“Thanks Jaden,” said the musician. “This is Marinette.”

“So, you’re the amazing Marinette that I had heard so much about,” Jaden had a friendly smile on his face. He extended his hand towards her. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Jaden Allard.”

“Nice to meet you, Jaden,” the designer shook his hand. “So you heard things about me? Only good things I hope.”

“Well it was from your boyfriend so you can imagine,” he told her. “So if there was any bad thing he said. I wasn’t around to hear it.”

“Something that never happened,” Luka interjected. “He’s just messing around.”

“Well..of course I am. I wasn’t crowned Mr. Hooper’s class’ comedian because I didn’t mess around once in a while,” he reminded him. “Remember, I won the title after being the only one able to crack a smile on his face. After the whole class thought that his frown was stapled on.”

“So you two went to school together?” Marinette questioned.

“We did, last year before Luka had transferred schools. We actually haven’t been in touch until over a month ago,” the comedian explained. “I needed his help with writing a song for my girlfriend Kira for her birthday. Her birthday was on New Year’s Eve and she was hosting a birthday party that night. However, I ran into a serious problem.”

“What was that?” she asked him.

“I had never written a song before. I can sing because I have been in my church’s choir since I was a kid. But writing music and lyrics from scratch was a major roadblock,” he explained. “Luckily, I had Luka’s number when we did a group project together and he agreed to do it. It was better to have someone more experienced in this area than doing it solo.”

“Did Kira like the song?” Luka asked.

“She loved it. Since I had clued in her mom and dad they had set up everything for me to perform at the party, including the music that we recorded,” the comedian told him. “Kira said it reminded her of her favorite scene in the movie, Love Letters From Juliet. After how well it turned out it gave me even more reason to follow through with our deal.”

“Deal?” the designer raised an eyebrow. “What deal?”

Jaden looked over towards Luka. “You haven’t told her?”

“I was going to tell her,” the musician told her. “As a trade off for working on the song. Jaden is letting us skate on his family’s property.”

“It’s no big deal we had done stuff like this all the time here,” Jaden told her. “Birthday parties and a few family weddings. Last year, I invited my class here for an ice skating party.”

“So the deal is if you help me do something for my girlfriend then I do the same for you?” Marinette asked.

“It sounds pretty simple when you put it that way,” the comedian admitted. “While still true, I think it’s a noble cause. Well should get going so you can have some privacy. I’ll be in the house down the way. If you need me for anything just call me.”

“Thanks Jaden for everything,” Luka waved.

“No problem, I hope you two have a nice time,” he began to walk off towards his new destination. “Nice meeting you, Marinette.”

“Nice meeting you too,” Marinette called back.

“So, what do you want to do first?” asked the musician. “Do you want to skate or exchange gifts first?”

“I thought the rink was my gift?”

“It’s a two parter, so this way we could have something to do today. So what’s your choice?”

After a bit of thought, the designer replied holding up the large blue gift bag in her hand. “Gifts, you’re not the only one with a surprise.”

Luka strolled over to the nearby bench picking up the pink gift bag before giving it to her. Marinette placed the gift bag down and removed out the white sparkly tissue paper before feeling something wooden hit her fingers. She pulled a small wooden box that fit right in the palm in her hand. It was painted light pink with white flowers attached to long thin light brown branches on the lid. On the side was an attached small silver wind up crank.

“It’s a box,” she looked up curiously.

“It’s not just a box,” the musician told her. “Open it.”

The designer did what she was told. Once the box was opened a familiar sweet melodic tune was released. The tune was uplifting, sweet and melodic all at the same time. She looked inside the box to see a small metal ticked rotating cylinder and metal strips arranged like a comb.

It was a music box.

Marinette gasped. “Is this tune what I think it is?”

“It’s your melody that you ask me to play from time to time,” he told her. “I figured this way you can carry it wherever. This way you always have a reminder of who you are no matter where you go.”

“Did you make this?”

“Yeah, there’s a couple videos on YouTube on how to do it. It did take a couple tries but I finally got it right on the tenth. Do you like it?”

“I love it. This is so sweet,” she shut the box, placing it back in the bag before placing it back on the bench. “I guess we were on the same wavelength when it comes to gifts.”

She picked back up the blue bag and handed it to Luka. He took out the blue tissue paper peeking out of the bag. After the paper he pulled out a distressed faux leather jacket. It was a shade of midnight black with small black beaded chains that hung off the shoulders. Each cuff of the jacket had a square metal stud on the end. The inside had a black checkered fabric lining. The jacket collar had a Jagged Stone logo pin and a teal snake symbol pin attached.

The back had a large square patch with a white background. On the patch was an illustration of Luka’s Kitty Section mask with the band’s name underneath in dynamic font.

The musician’s whole face completely brightened. “Whoa, this looks like the jacket that my dad promised me from his closet. Until we found out Fang had been secretly using it as a chew toy.”

“Surprise!” Marinette flashed a set of jazz hands for emphasis. “When you told me what happened to the jacket. I called your dad to see if I could do a patch job on it. But when he sent me the pictures. It was clear to anyone that it was damaged beyond repair. So I asked him to use it for scraps to make you a new one for your Christmas present. He also gave me money for the supplies.”

“Wait, is that the reason why you wanted to put off the gift exchange until I came back?”

“Yeah when I originally started the project I assumed that I would meet up with you on Christmas day. But when the trip date was announced there was no way I could’ve pulled it off. Unless, I dropped everything and worked nonstop. I did modernize the design since Jagged originally got the jacket in his twenties. It’s also more suited to your style since it is not super flashy like your dad’s.”

“And the Kitty Section patch?”

“I thought that would be a great personal touch for you. You know a mix between the old and new. I was able to save the lining, bit of the sleeves and the collar. So it’s not completely lost as a piece of family history. If I remember correctly your dad wore it on one of his album covers. Maybe you can do something similar someday.”

Before another word could be spoken Luka wrapped his arms once more pulling her into a hug. “Thank you. Even after all this time you still managed to surprise me.”

“That’s usually half of the fun, especially when giving a gift to someone that I love,” she told him.

“I love you too,” the musician brushed her bangs back, kissing her on the forehead. “Are you ready to skate?”

“Definitely,” she smiled.

“You sure?” he teased. “You’re not hiding anything else from me are you?”

It was a joke and she knew that. But her face couldn’t help itself from twisting into an admission of guilt.

“Wait, what’s wrong?” the musician realized he had struck a chord.

“It’s nothing,” the designer shook her head before taking his hand. “Everything is fine. Let’s go. The last thing we should do is waste this beautiful scenery.”

However, Luka did not budge. “It doesn’t look that way. Come on Marinette, I know that face. There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

Her eyes shifted to the side, avoiding his gaze. Until she realized that it would be pointless to stall. She knew Luka was one of the few people who could always tell there was more underneath the surface with her. Simple platitudes didn’t work on him like the others.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I didn’t want to say it before but I guess there’s no point hiding it anymore. Especially when everything is all over now.”

Marinette led him towards the bench to sit putting down the gifts and speaker while pushing them to the side.

“So, what’s going on, Marinette?” the musician questioned.

The designer stared at him, almost as if she was struggling with how to phrase it. “Well… I should be honest…it’s just I regret not going on the trip with you. I know that I said that I would be fine. I have been feeling like this for a while but it wasn’t really until you left that I truly have been kicking myself for missing out.”

“So is that it?” Luka started to tap his fingers on his lap.

“I just feel like I’m being so selfish, with everything that’s been going on with the city and Shadow Moth. Even though things had gotten worse in these couple months. I wanted to leave at the first opportunity I got. When you were away I kept thinking how great it would be to spend time with you. Without needing to rush off in the middle of a movie or a meal. To be in a place where I saw someone irritated. I wouldn’t have to worry about possibly fighting them later. I could assume they’re having a bad day and wish them the best.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Even though misery loves company, I didn’t want to become a burden. Especially after reassuring over and over you that I would be alright. You looked so happy to meet your dad’s side of the family. Something that you wanted to do before we even met. The last thing I wanted to do is make this amazing opportunity for you all about me and my feelings. But I guess I need to work on my acting skills because I couldn’t keep a straight face after being asked a simple question.”

“It’s okay, Marinette,” the musician wrapped his arm around her.

“Today was supposed to be a great day since you’re back. But here we are, talking about this. I’m sorry, the last thing that I wanted to be was selfish or a burden on this special day.”

“You’re not selfish or a burden. If anyone deserves a break in this city you would be top of the list. And if someone dares to suggest otherwise they would have to answer me.”

“Luka.”

“It’s true. You protect the city nearly everyday, even when it’s an inconvenience. Instead of leaving the city defenseless you stayed against your own desires. You swallowed your feelings, something that I don’t recommend in the long term because it eventually disrupts your inner melody. How could you call any of that selfish?”

“I don’t know,” the designer admitted. “It just feels like I have to do this all with a smile on my face. I was given an opportunity of a lifetime to be one of Paris’ protectors. To be a role model, I have seen kids dress up as Chat Noir and Ladybug. How could I be one of the city’s guardian angels if I wanted to leave?”

“It’s because you’re a person, not some standard that needs to be upheld. You are Marinette, a person with thoughts, feelings and desires. You inspire others but that doesn’t mean you have to hide your feelings about wanting a break.”

“You would think that I would know that by now. It’s just been a hard habit to break. I had gotten used to hiding all my feelings about being Ladybug from everyone. Until recently I didn’t have anyone who knew the whole truth about both sides of my life. Sometimes it feels like I’m better off being like that for the sake of everyone else. Or just push down my feelings to be more like Ladybug as from the outside it looks like she has it all put together.”

“You shouldn’t lose yourself for the sake of everyone else. But I also get it. From all those times I had been Viperion. The things I had seen while using second chance,” the musician recoiled slightly. “Let’s just say I really get how stressful being a hero can be. And I’m not needed all the time like you. But maybe there’s a way to help you remember who you really are when you feel like this?”

“Really how?”

“It’s probably won’t not much since it won’t solve all your problems. And I know we still need Ladybug,” Luka admitted as he reached over and pulled out the music box from the pink gift bag. Before placing it back into her hands. “But I made this for you Marinette, not Ladybug with the melody that I heard from your heart. It could be a reminder when you listen to it when you feel unsure of who you really are.”

“It’s definitely worth a try.”

“You also need to remember that you’re not a burden. In my eyes, you’re the strongest, good hearted person that I have ever met. But you have to be honest with others about what you need. No one deserves to keep that all bottled up. People like me, the ones who love you won’t purposefully make you feel like a burden for just asking. You need to be honest with us but most importantly honest with yourself.”

“You’re right if I was at least honest with myself. I wouldn’t have felt this way all this time,” Marinette wrapped her arms around her boyfriend, feeling much better than all the days before. “Thanks Luka, one thing that I know for sure that I’m lucky to have someone like you, so compassionate and kind.”

“It’s no problem. What’s the point of knowing the truth if I can’t help?” he told her. “So, are you ready to go skating together?”

“Yeah,” she smiled. “I think that’s exactly what I need.”

Moments later the two of them stepped into the ice rink donning their stakes. The sound of harmonious romantic guitar music filled the air from the black phone speaker from the bench. Hand in hand, the couple eased into circling around the perimeter. Gradually embracing each other once more like they were dancing together. Before sealing this experience with a kiss.

The End.

Thanks for reading! 😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoy this part. Anyone who knows me is aware that I have a soft spot for this couple. Especially since they didn’t have much official time as a couple. Pretty much a cameo in the NY special and one episode. They really didn’t have a chance did they? Nevertheless, these two together will live on in fan content. To be honest this one was the most time consuming not just because of length but also my love-hate relationship with romance.

I don’t hate romance. In fact, I’m usually the first person to yell “kiss” at the screen. This is also one of the reasons I watch movies at home. However, when it comes to writing it I’m always afraid about it coming out way too cheesy. Now a little cheese isn’t so bad but there’s my concern about taking it too far. The simple answer is to stop but at the same time when I finally get it. It’s a good feeling. So this is one of my personal conundrums.

Since this isn’t the final part, will keep the closing statement brief and link to the next part here: Section 3. For anyone who wants continue with the next story. The closing song will be on the last part. Including an author note so I won’t need to repeat it three times.

This story is also available on Wattpad.

If you made it this far thank you again for reading.

#miraculous ladybug #lukanette #pro lukanette #lukanette fic #endgame lukanette #pro lukamari #miraculous au #ml fanfic #ml marinette #ml luknette #ml luka #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #my writing #miraculous fanfic #winter

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lovelyspencers · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings

Synopsis: Spencer and pregnant fem!Reader spontaneously get married in Las Vegas

Word Count: 1.3k

Content Warnings: allusions to sex

❝ I like shiny things but I’d marry you in paper rings ❞

Y/N and Spencer exit the clinic his mother is placed in with their hands intertwined as she traces mindless patterns on the back of it and occasionally gives it a gentle squeeze.

The November air is flush and he had wrapped her up in his grey cardigan and the scarf he had knitted her for Christmas. Besides being a genius, his measures had been terribly wrong and she looked like the purple wool ate her alive every time she wore it.

Still, she looks adorable. The cold paints her nose in a faint red and he stops in his tracks solely to place a kiss atop of it, admiring how she scrunches her nose in response and he can’t stop himself from peppering her face with kisses.

She’s wearing the same sweater she wore on the night they first met, except the baby blue garment with puffy clouds on them looks way better under the soft glow of the sinking sun than the harsh fluorescent lights of the club his team members had dragged him to all those years ago — and back then she didn’t have a small baby bump to cover.

They are quiet, undoubtedly thinking about the same thing as only the running engines of cars and birds chirping as they settle down for the night fill the silence. His mother had brought up a question that dreaded both of them and Spencer’s mind has been occupied with it ever since.

“When will you guys finally get married?”

He proposed to her two years ago and while the initial thought was to get married as soon as possible life got in the way or more frankly a false conviction and the aftermath of his trauma.

The only thing that gave him hope as he was robbed of his freedom, his most treasured possession, was the thought of Y/N. He glanced at empty walls, envisioning all the pictures their house would be plastered in if he ever got out of there.

He went to sleep despite his concern that people might come after him because at least in his dreams he got to see her and then he’d feel safe even if it was just in his imagination.

His thoughts solely revolved around her and the future they shared if he was strong enough. He imagined her in a white ball gown and the way her eyes would brim with nothing but utter joy and love as she finally became his endlessly.

When he did survive and the fresh air outside of the confinement of prison fences reached his nose and he fell into her soothing embrace, the scent of her shampoo still the same and her touch still was full of love, all he could think about was how he never wanted to be separated from her ever again.

But they were too busy trying to fix his invisible scars to even think about drowning in the stressful process of planning a wedding again. And when he did feel like himself again with the patience and care of Y/N (as well as some long-overdue therapy session), she got pregnant and they were too busy in their own little bubble to even acknowledge the still missing rings on their fingers.

It’s not like Spencer has any doubts about spending the rest of his life with her. He knows it every morning he wakes up next to her, their blanket fully draped over solely her body and her head laying on his chest, the sun peeking through the curtains and bathing her in a glow that made her seem celestial.

He knows it every time she kisses him, her lips always tasting of strawberry chapstick and her hands softly playing with his hair as she tries her hardest to convey her love to him in the simplicity of a kiss. He always understands her secret language because truthfully he’s trying the same.

He knows it every time he walks in on her singing and dancing in the kitchen, so blissfully unaware of the horror in the world he’s constantly exposed to and giving him a glimpse of peace too.

He knows it every time she pulls his body into hers and gives him her all. The sounds that leave her mouth when he proves to her that there’s no one that knows her as much as he does and her features when she falls from grace with him.

Honestly, he’s known that he wants to spend entirety with her ever since he first laid his eyes on her.

But as always his fears get the best of him. He’s been separated from her once and he knows how much it hurt her and how can he claim to love her when he put her through that? How can he claim to love her when he’s still uncertain that he can protect her from all the evil that’s lurking in the shadows.

As he looks at her, the afterglow illuminating every imperfection on her face that he would mesmerize and admire for entirety if he could, all his fears and insecurities fade away like fallen leaves and he’s never been more certain about wanting anything more than finally call the love of his life his wife. Now.

“How mad do you think our friends would be if we got married right now?”

“What?” Y/N turns to face him, a shaky smile spreading on her face as she fiddles with the ends of her scarf.

Spencer isn’t surprised by her disbelief. The most spontaneous thing he’d done during their relationship was kissing Y/N on the porch of her house after their second date and well, get her pregnant.

“Marry me,” he repeats, mirroring the soft smile that adorns her face as he absently plays with the engagement ring on her finger, “Like right now.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and chuckles before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “I don’t have a dress. We don't have rings and I’m kind of pregnant right now.”

“I’d say you’re very pregnant right now,” he laughs as he places his hand on her stomach, something he’s been doing almost subconsciously ever since they found out that they were expecting — and that exposed their little secret multiple times already.

She nuzzles her face in the crook of his neck and peppers kisses there, muttering incoherent love declaration. “You really want to marry me in a shitty chapel when I barely fit in my clothes anymore?”

He nods and places a kiss on the crown of her head, breathing in the scent of her floral shampoo and resting his head on top of here. “I do. To be honest, I’d marry you in paper rings.”

Noticing the worries in her eyes, he grabs her face and cradles it like she’s the most precious thing he ever had the pleasure of holding. While he does want to marry her desperately, his number one priority is always that she feels comfortable and if that means that he has to wait forever for her then so be it.

“I don’t want to pressure you and If you want a fancy wedding then I’ll gladly give you that. I’d wait a lifetime for you.”

The sound of her laugh fills the otherwise empty parking lot, the kind that brightens up his days that would otherwise be doomed in black and white as she places a lingering kiss on his lips.

“I know. But I don’t need a fancy wedding, I just need you.”

She grabs into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out a random poster she had picked up earlier and starting to fold the material until she crafted a rather messy ring.

“You ready to get married in paper rings?”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #mgg #my writing #mgg fanfiction #mgg fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush.

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy.

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?”

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch.

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks.

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself.

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt.

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room.

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit.

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more.

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man. Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it.

Fuck.

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads, out of stock blinks back at him.

Double fuck.

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it?

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason.

Geralt huffs at the thought.

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly.

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot.

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion.

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it.

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn.

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages.

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!”

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated.

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks.

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?”

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question.

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully.

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps.

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words.

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often.

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car.

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies.

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off.

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway.

Geralt looks down at his phone. yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text.

See you then , he types, and goes back to make the s lowercase.

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are you texting?” Geralt retorts weakly.

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back.

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear.

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet.

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral.

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky.

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over.

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground.

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten.

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits.

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue.

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting.

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video.

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition.

He could be talking about anyone.

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway.

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask.

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile.

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and hmm s right back.

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin.

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time.

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him.

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss.

Geralt goes without complaint.

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard.

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him.

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him.

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter.

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one.

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal.

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table.

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side.

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously.

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier.

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile.

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest.

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly.

“You have no idea.”

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk.

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?”

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says.

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering.

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters.

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him.

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution.

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so.

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?”

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks.

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks.

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces.

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay.

#fluff #au #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #contemplative writing

207 notes · View notes

nambamjun · 3 years

Text

Star Stuff {SMG}

Pairing: (Hufflepuff) Song Mingi x (Hufflepuff, Gender Neutral) Reader

Genres: Hogwarts AU, mutual pining, friends to perhaps lovers, fluff, some angst

Warnings: I think one or two instances of slight language? Nothing too too bad though

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: I’m finally and officially done with university for the semester! Off and on break till the fall, which means I’ll have a lot more time to write! I’m home with my cat and it’s missing Mingi hours (as per usual) so I figured why not put a lil thing out here super quick? Comments and (constructive) criticisms are always welcome, hope you enjoy ~<3

You stood on the top most floor of the astronomy tower, pulling your jacket closer to your frame and breathing outwardly before burying your nose deeper into your house scarf that wrapped tightly around your neck. The crisp October air swirled around you, miscellaneous leaves dancing around the floor as it tousled your hair. You looked at your wrist watch, a gift from your muggle friend back home. Staring at the face you wondered how she was getting on these days. Sure, it had only been two and a half months since you had seen her last before leaving for this term, but knowing that didn't really make you miss her any less.

To keep you company while missing old friends, though, you made new ones. Friends that you didn’t have to hide a pretty substantial part of your life from... aka, anything to do with magic. While it wasn’t as if you were popular you did have a few people who really exemplified the saying “quality over quantity”, and you knew that just as you would always have their backs, they would always have yours. Seeing as most of them were hufflepuffs including you this wasn’t too surprising. Most, not all, but hey the value of loyalty was held quite highly in your close knit group.

Speaking of a hufflepuff friend… you zoned back in to your wrist. 11:37pm. You stuffed your now icy hand back in your pocket and huffed. Where is he…? This wasn’t the first time you two had snuck out after hours, far from it. Still, you hoped he hadn’t been caught. That would have definitely weighed on your conscience. I’ll give him until ten of midnight. Thirteen minutes is enough time, if he isn’t here by then… I guess I’ll head back and hope that he just fell asleep or something.

And that is what you did. Five minutes... eight... eleven... thirteen... heck, fifteen. You gave an extra two minutes, but you could only wait around for so long. Briskly walking towards the door the only thought in your head was that you hoped he was warm in bed and that’s all there was to it. Well, that and the hopes that you, too, would be in that same placement in your own room. Lost in thoughts of blankets and pajamas, however, you failed to see someone start to come through the doorway just as you were about to exit. Your bodies crashed together and you stumbled backward, about to give them a right piece of your mind, but any anger faded instantly when you looked upon the apologetic yet smiling face of your best friend.

“Song Mingi how dare you keep me waiting,” you pointedly whispered, lightly pushing him with your fist. “You had me worried! I had half a mind to send an owl straight to your room!” He started chuckling at your reaction and despite wanting to just be a tiny bit dramatic you couldn’t help but let his contagious smile spread to you. “So you’re laughing at me now, okay, I see how it is-” you started to throw your hands up in mock frustration.

“Oh come on, stop being a drama queen. Besides, I’m here now!” You crossed your arms and tried your best to look as indifferent as possible. He sighed and gave you a big eyed stare. “I’m sorryyyyyyy...”

Well who could stay mad at that face?

You relented, stepping forward to give him a short hug before returning to your bundled up state, nose once again deep in your yellow and black scarf. Wordlessly you two made your way over to the usual sitting spot on the side steps and sat down, backs leaning against the wall. You allowed yourself to scoot right next to him and lean into his side, sharing the warmth as your eyes gazed out into the expansive night. You didn’t know he was looking at you until he lightly muttered, “is it just one of those nights…?” You looked up at him, his eyes soft and compassionate, and felt a flood of warmth bloom outward from your chest. You hummed and slightly nodded your head before lightly placing it back down onto his shoulder. He didn’t say anything else, just put his cheek on the crown of your head and moved even closer.

It was times like this that you felt truly at peace. Here, with him, thoughts of all of the assignments you had to do didn’t even cross your mind. School drama was little more than something to chuckle at. Being homesick wasn’t even an issue, because although you were far from your family, you felt at home with him. Yes, the assignments were still there, and maybe two of your other friends were in the middle of a fight that put you in between them, but all of it would work out eventually. You’d be able to get through it all with him by your side. You grew up together, him having been one of the first friends you made upon arriving and being sorted into the same house. Now it was both of your sixth year. The fact that you didn’t have all the time in the world for moments like this loomed over your head sometimes, and it scared you that after this it would be time for the real world, where summer breaks would be no more and nights like these… you hoped they would still happen but who knows? Adults go their separate ways sometimes.

Actually, no, it wasn’t adulthood that scared you. It was the change. Being ripped away from everything you knew, maybe even everyone, just to start something else, whatever that would be. But you were especially afraid of losing him. Not being able to see his beautifully unique smile every day, hear his laugh that was sweeter to you than bird song, or even just exchange little looks so many times a day to have two second long silent conversations that the others wouldn’t be privy to.

Did you have feelings for your best friend? No.

Were you in denial about that? Well… maybe…

Were you going to do anything about it? Absolutely not.

Because he’s your best friend, and you his. You couldn’t - you wouldn’t - afford to change anything from where it is now. Moments like this still had to happen. You wouldn’t know what you would do if they didn’t, let alone if he looked at you differently. Treated you differently. Or even, worst case scenario, left altogether.

You blinked and forced yourself out of your head. You wanted to be in the moment and enjoy every moment with him you could, as fully as possible. All of that could wait until later. You took a deep breath inward and released it, letting yourself revel in the serenity you felt beside him. Little did you know that Mingi was thinking almost the same exact thoughts, with the same worries, and the same fears pitted in the bottom of his stomach. Looking up at the stars without tilting his head he thought to himself that he wouldn’t let any of that happen. He wouldn’t let you drift apart, in fact he would do everything in his power to make sure that the bond between the two of you would be stronger than ever. He allowed a small grin to work its way onto his lips. Right there and then he started plotting.

Maybe Yunho could do me a favor and get the Gryffindor quidditch team involved. That would be so cool, with sparkling letters in the air that would fly out of the ends of their brooms! Is there even a spell for that…? What about maybe putting something like a slip of enchanted paper into that one book? No that might be too subtle and easy to miss. Maybe she’s not into grand gestures though. What wouldn’t be too big but yet still somehow grand? OH! OH! What about that one plant in herbology that blooms those little flowers she loves so much? Maybe I could…

~~~~~

As his mind ran away from him the stars twinkled on above you, hearing the way your two minds crossed so beautifully and whispering to one another about where they thought it would lead. They looked down on the pair and sent some good old fashioned celestial luck to the young romantics. They knew soulmates well enough, and knew that luck wasn’t exactly something they needed in the first place, but why not? It couldn’t hurt. And besides, Mingi was coming up with so many ideas. He could use that energy to help him pick one of them and make it as perfect as possible. After all, to him, you were deserving only of perfection. Nothing less. And he’d be damned if that wasn’t exactly what you got.

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aurorablue22 · 3 years

Text

Christmas with The Weasleys - Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary/(a/n): Upon their boyfriend Fred's invite, (y/n) is spending their first Christmas with the Weasley family!! I know it's not the holiday season, but bc I love the Weasleys (and Fred) so much, I just had to write this one down. Please feel free to leave requests (Harry Potter or any fandom) in the comments, I'm always open to new ideas!!

Warnings: None. Might as well give you a heads up though, I never assigned a gender to (y/n), so it's up to you to decide their pronouns!!

Word Count: 1325

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had always loved the holiday season. No other time of year could surpass it! This time around, you were extra excited. Last week, while you chatted with Seamus in the Gryffindor common room, your boyfriend Fred Weasley approached you.

"Hullo love." he grinned.

"Hi." you smiled, and so did Fred at your simple reply.

"How would you" - he stopped and pointed at you - "like to spend Christmas at my house?"

You had always appreciated that Fred was a very straight-to-the-point kind of guy. Whenever he had something to say, he'd say it as it was, no dilly dallying.

You leaned forward in your chair, half grateful, half flabbergasted. "Me? You want me hanging around your house during the holidays?"

"Actually it was me mum's idea, she loves you more than Ron." You could hear Hermione and Harry laugh at that remark, as they were a few couches over. To say the least, you were honoured that Molly Weasley, the Molly Weasley had wanted you to stay at her place for Christmas!!

"Well.. well of course I would!!" you exclaimed as you jumped up to hug Fred (which took some effort, because he was a fair bit taller than you).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The past few days had gone by faster than you could say Quidditch. It was almost eerie how quickly Christmas was approaching. Well, you know what they say, time flies when you're having fun!

You were woken by a knock on the door, and the creak of it opening as you rubbed your eyes. Sunlight was barely peeking through the window, but it was far to bright for this early in the morning.

"Merry Christmas (y/n)!" an excited whisper came from the doorway. You turned your head to see a bed-headed Ginny, dressed in snowman pajamas. She walked over to your bed, and you opened your arms to give her a hug. "Merry Christmas Gin!" you yawned.

"Well c'mon, you know what time it is don't you?!" Ginny whisper shouted. You furrowed your brow, before remembering the elaborate plan Ginny had explained to you last night. You jumped up, putting your (f/c) pajamas on display, and grabbed her hand. "Let's go let's go!!" you giggled as you tugged her to the door.

Since last Christmas, Ginny had been plotting revenge on her older brothers. Fred and George had decided it would be funny to enchant their 3ft tall Santa figure to chase her around the icy front lawn. Well, did she have a surprise for them!

You and Ginny crept over to her bedroom, where you each picked up a bag of plastic cups tucked away in the closet. Your plan was to fill each of them with water, and stack them up the doorway of the twins' bedroom. Just as you had filled up a pitcher in the bathroom, you took a step out the door, only to trip and have the bloody thing fly right out of your hands!

It felt as though you were falling in slow motion, and just as you braced yourself to hit the floor, and mattress slid directly beneath you. You fell flat on your back, slightly relieved but watched in horror as a pair of long, slender arms caught the pitcher above your head, but not the water spilling out of it...

With a grand "SPLISH" sound, your entire head, neck and face was drenched. You absorbed the silence around you, until you heard a grand cackle. No, two. No wait, three. And soon enough 4 redheads (and a brunette) were standing in the corridor, laughing over the sight before them. Fred, George, Ron, Harry and Ginny had to muffle their laughter for your embarrassment's sake.

You were sure you looked like a tomato, and your cheeks felt even hotter at the thought. You looked up to see Fred looming over you - his laughter had died down when he noticed how upset you were. He held out his hand to you, and you took it, jumping at the mere force of his strength.

"Granted, we thought you were Ginny." he gave an apologetic smile.

"We also had no clue you were carrying this." George said, dangling the pitcher in his hands.

You stumbled back into the bathroom to dry yourself off, snatching a towel and wiping your face. That's when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and the tall glass of water behind you(no pun intended haha).

Fred wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder. "Y'know I really am sorry love."

You smiled a little, knowing he'd make it up to you eventually (hehe). You patted his head. "Not to worry. Merry Christmas darling." "Merry Christmas (y/n)."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you and Fred came down the stairs, you were greeted by an impatient Ron and Percy, sleepy George, somewhat annoyed Ginny, Harry and Arthur sipping their teas, and a grand hug from Molly. "Happy Christmas my dear!!" she said, gently cupping your face. She then moved on to Fred and did the same, kissing him on the cheek.

"Well c'mon then, these presents aren't going to open themselves!" Ron ushered everyone towards the plump little tree. Within seconds, you'd all torn into your gifts like children. Ginny had received a beautiful knitted hat and mittens, Ron and Harry a new beanie, Percy a scarf, George a neck gaiter, Fred some fingerless gloves, and for you a blanket (I know this goes without saying but of course the annual Weasley sweaters <3).

You gasped in awe and wrapped the blanket around your shoulders; Mrs. Weasley must've noticed how much you disliked the cold.

After you all expressed your gratitude, and ate a hearty breakfast, George suggested that the family should go sledding, to which the rest of you happily obliged. As you were walking up the stairs, still wrapped in your blanket (which Harry had nicknamed your cloak), you felt a gentle tug at your wrist.

You turned to see Fred, holding a small box with a simple string around it. "I figured I'd give this to you in private, just in case.. well y'know."

You cautiously took the box in your hands, as if it would shatter if you breathed too loudly. You were beaming from ear to ear, as you gingerly untied the string. Letting it fall to the side, you lifted the top of the box to reveal a ring.

Although it was such a simple little thing, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

"I made it one day during Transfiguration, and I thought you might like it-" he was cut of by you kissing him.

"Like it? I love it Freddie!! You're brilliant, absolutely brilliant... thank you." your hand was rested on his cheek, and as you admired your ring, a chorus of "awhhhhhhs" could be heard in the distance.

At the bottom of the stairs, the entire Weasley family (except Ron, he was still eating) and Harry absorbed the moment the best they could. Molly had her hand over her heart, and Ginny was grinning.

"Alright now that that's done with, let's get to sledding!"

The crowd ushered out and you trailed not far behind, enjoying what had been the best Christmas of your life.

~Aurora

#fred weasley #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #christmas #harry potter #harry potter imagines #fred weasley imagines #christmas x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

A Place Like This 2

Warnings: this short series will include dark elements including noncon, possible violence, mentions of mental illness, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start asking questions but you might not like the answers.

Note: I’m a filthy liar and this is gonna be obv more than two parts and I dunno what I’m doing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your office was the room across the hall from Andy’s, just beside the bathroom and furthest from your mother’s.

You had a routine; it helped you keep on track. You woke up, had a coffee and a small breakfast, and climbed back upstairs to begin your work. At noon, you took a break, you went for a walk or just sat on the porch with your mother if she wasn’t in her room. You returned to work and later in the afternoon you came down to remind your mother about her pills. Then you started dinner as the day was in its final decline.

Andy only changed that slightly. He woke earlier than you did and was on his way out as you got up. He came home around dinner time and you left a plate for him in the oven if he was late. He was quiet, he ate, and went upstairs. The first week went by as such. You almost pitied him for living in what seemed a crowded isolation.

Then the weekend came. Like the other lumber workers, he had those two days to himself. It would be the first real test of your arrangement.

You woke at your usual time and went down to make your coffee. You only wrote for a couple hours on weekends. Breaks were good. You measured the grounds into the percolator and filled it with water. You turned on the decades old stove and turned as you heard the old stairs groan.

Andy appeared in the door. He wore jeans and a thick knitted sweater. His hair, overgrown and shaggy, was pushed away from his face, his beard a shade darker and starting to puff out from its length. You suspected that as a lawyer, he never looked so unkempt and yet even now, he still managed to look refined.

“Hate to be selfish but you think there’s enough for me?” He crossed to the table and sat.

“Should be,” You rubbed your hands together. You wore an old sweatshirt with a grizzly on the front and your old faded jeans with the bleach stain on the knee. Unfashionable but warm. ‘“Cream, milk, sugar?”

“Black’s fine,” He said as he scratched his chin. “I was thinking today I could stock us up on wood for the fireplace. Since it’s snowing now, it’s better to get it done before the winter is really here.”

You squinted at him and played with the frayed cuff of your shirt. “So, you got a lot of snow in the city?”

“Not as much as here, I’m sure.” He let out a long breath and you saw the cloud in front of him.

You paused and listened for the rattle of the furnace. “Fuck.” You pushed yourself away from the counter. “I gotta light the furnace.”

“Where is it? I’ll do it.” He offered. “Since you made the coffee.”

“You sure?”

“Think I can handle it,” He stood. “City boy and all.”

“Basement door’s outside. It’s a pain but this place is old and not very well put together.” You said. “There’s a lighter in the drawer.” You pointed at the counter. “Thanks. Oh, and the key too. Hanging by the door with the green tag.”

“Alright,” He crossed to the door. “Think I’ll figure it out.”

He disappeared down the hall and returned with his big boots. He put them on before the back door and unlocked it. He tramped down the steps as the door clattered behind him and you listened to his crisp footsteps.

You wrung your hands as you thought. Nice enough, you surmised, but evasive. Maybe he wasn’t running from some heinous offense but he was trying to get away from something. You could tell by the way he always seemed to direct the conversation, especially when it turned on him.

You heard the sudden rumble of the furnace and the vents hissing. You turned as the percolator began to shake almost in tandem and the small glass knob bubbled with brown coffee. You took it off the burner as the basement door squeaked and the jingle of the key accompanied the snowy steps across the yard.

Andy kicked off his boots and slipped through the back door. He hung the key and he shook the snow from his hair and smoothed it back. He left his boots on the mat as you poured two mugs. He approached and you slid one to him. He took it with a soft thank you.

You added milk to yours and sat at the table as he did the same. You regretted it almost immediately. You should've taken it up with you and hid in your office.

"Any plans today?" He asked. You blinked and he rested his palm against the hot mug. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"Nah, nothing planned," You replied. "So you just plan on chopping wood on your day off?"

"Not much else to do up here. It's nice. Mindless." He shrugged.

"You have a lot you don't want to think about?" You wondered.

His jaw ticked as he eyed you and his lips curled slightly.

"Don't we all?"

"You'd have to to come all the way up here from wherever you're from." You commented.

"Hmm," He chuckled under his breath. "You'd make a good prosecutor. You don't miss a lot."

"I'm a writer. I write about people, so I gotta study them closely."

"I thought you wrote about animals."

"That's what I'm paid to write about but… I have my own projects." You lifted your mug and tasted the rich brew.

He sucked his bottom lip in as his thoughts wrinkled on his forehead. "Uh huh," He uttered carefully. "Guess that's true then."

"So… is it too much to ask why you ditched being a lawyer?" You asked.

"You do anything long enough and you get bored."

"And you never did anything else? Never got married?" You prodded.

"Well, what about you?" He challenged as he hooked two finger through the handle of his mug. "Not many fish in this pond, huh."

"Touche," Your lips slanted, "You definitely are the lawyer type."

🍂

Later that day, after you gave your mother her second round of pills, you ventured out into the forest that skirt around the old property. The snow was only just past your ankles, the powder fell in spurts but didn’t seem to get much deeper. When you were met with a block or an impasse in your writing, you always came out to the trees to clear your mind. You were done for the day but you had a long week ahead of you.

You kicked the snow of a fallen tree by the river and listened to those critters not yet in hibernation in the blanket branches above. You thought about the man staying in the room next to yours and the answers he would give you; the questions you were too afraid to ask him.

He wasn’t telling you everything, perhaps he didn’t owe you everything, but the lines in his forehead, the crinkles beside his eyes, the depth of his irises as they watched you. There were things you needed to know about a person and you feared you didn’t know enough about this stranger you’d invited in. You had been too intent on the money, on your own keeping.

Or maybe you were paranoid. You were starting to sound like your mother when she claimed the birds were listening to her and taking the messages back to the monsters of the forest. When she had barricaded herself in her room and refused to come out for fear you were one of them in disguise. The day it had all fallen apart.

Your nose was numb and tingling. You pulled your scarf up over your face and turned back. The snow was crisper now. The temperatures fell with the sun and that happened quickly in the winter. The sky was a dark grey as you came back to the house, the chimney billowed up toward the quarter moon and a soft amber light shone between the curtains of the front room.

You dusted your boots off before you stepped inside. The voice didn’t stop as you took off your coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. You slid your boots off and listened. The scene was unexpected as you peeked into the front room.

Your mother sat with her favourite blanket over her legs before the fire. A fresh stack of wood sat beside it, the basket full of split logs as well. Andy bent to poke at the embers and send up sparks as he got the fire going higher.

“So, this book you’re reading,” He said as he set the poker aside. “Did she get away yet?”

“I don’t think she’s gonna,” Your mother replied as Andy stood and brushed off his jeans. “I don’t think that’s what the story’s about.”

“That’s too bad.” He looked up and his eyes met yours. You moved so that you stood in the doorway. “But I guess that’s truer to life. Not everyone gets their happy ending.”

“Well, I’ve been taking my time because it doesn’t have an ending. Yet.” She explained. “I’m waiting for her to finish.”

Your blood went cold. You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

“What book is this, ma?” You asked.

She looked around the chair at you and blanched. Andy sat on the sofa and you pushed yourself away from the door frame. Your mother shook her head.

“I told you not to read my stuff.” You grimaced as you came closer. “It’s a first draft. Unfinished, unedited. It’s… personal.”

“From what she says, it’s pretty good regardless,” Andy offered. “Can’t blame her for her curiosity.”

You looked at him sharply and sighed as you dropped your arms.

“Whatever. Just don’t look at it again til I’m done.” You reprimanded. “Please. I’ll give you a look when I’m ready.”

“Dunno why it’s such a big deal. You write for the magazine all the time.” She grumbled.

“Because this isn’t an article on leaf fauna, ma,” You rubbed your cheek. “You already eat?”

“Just about to. Andy put a casserole in the oven.” She smiled. “Never knew a man who cooked. Your father, he couldn’t even salt his own eggs.”

“Mmm,” You sniffed as the smell of the burning wood melded with another more savoury scent. “Well, thank you, Andy. That was considerate. I’m sorry I waited so late, I was a bit distracted.”

“No problem,” He shrugged. “Really, the least I can do.”

You glanced between him and your mom. She hadn’t been this awake in ages. Her meds usually had her napping until dinnertime and asleep just as quickly after. She was vibrant and more friendly to this man than people she’d known for decades. You felt as if you’d walked in on something.

“Well, let me know. I’ll be upstairs.” You backed up. “There’s some strudel left from yesterday we can have for dessert.”

You left them and stopped at the bottom of the stairs as you looked back into the front room. Andy’s voice droned as he spoke to your mom and as she chuckled his eyes found yours. They narrowed for just a moment before he turned back and smiled at the older woman.

Nice enough, you presumed, but why didn’t you believe it?

🍂

The next day, you watched Andy through the window. The snow was thicker, a harbinger of the storm that had been brewing for over a week. He crossed to the trees, his boots barely higher than the blanket below. He sank down with each step. Only a fool would venture out as the windows billowed and flung the snow errantly.

You tore yourself away and pulled the curtain shut. You crept out into the hall and listened. Your mother slept late that day and when you gave her her pills, she’d just rolled over and fallen back to sleep.

You neared the door of Andy’s room and your hand hesitated on the knob. You took a breath and twisted it. You entered and were struck by the man’s smell; of his sweat and the deodorant that always lingered around him. The bed was made and the room barely looked lived in.

You walked slowly to the closet. Flannel shirts and jackets hung within above a single suitcase.

You felt a pang of guilt. Had you not just chided your mother for her snooping? You bent and unzipped the bag. It was empty. You checked the pockets; empty too. You stood and slid the door back into place. You went to the bed, the table next to it with the drawer that didn’t quite shut all the way and you wiggled it open.

The bible your mother left in there as if it were a hotel and pack of smokes. You’d never seen Andy smoke, never even smelled it on him. You took the carton and flipped open the top. Inside, a folded picture. You tiptoed to the window and looked out. His footprints faded into the trees.

You slid the photo out and opened it with shaky hands. It was Andy, shorter hair, trimmed beard, smiling, his arm around a dark-haired woman and a young boy in front of them. You folded it quickly and pushed it back behind the sticks in the pack. You placed it as you had found it and forced the drawer shut.

Was he running from his own family? Or maybe, what had happened to them?

You fled his room and closed the door guiltily. You were only more confused than before. You descended the stairs and hastily pulled your coat from the hook. Your hat was pulled on carelessly and you tied your boots without thinking. You pushed your hands into your gloves and angled yourself out the door. It was fucking cold; the fleece lining of your coat made little difference.

You grunted as you forced your boots through the snow and followed Andy’s tracks as they filled with a new layer of powder. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you were doing it. What could he be doing all the way out in the woods which would be incriminating?

You went on, even as the questions floated in your mind. You followed his large boot prints, placing your feet in them as you followed his path. You came to a stop before the river, the overturned tree showed where someone had brushed aside the snow. The tracks veered off away from the log and you looked around.

You were forced back into an upright trunk, the breath knocked out of you as Andy pinned you with his arm across your chest. His eyes seared into you as he leaned his weight into you and you gasped for air as you smacked his shoulder.

“Why are you following me?” He growled.

“What? Andy, let me--” You gasped, barely able to breathe, the snow clumping in your lashes. “And--”

“Hmm? I see you watching me. I see the way you look at me.” He hissed. “I help you, help your mother and what? What do you think I am?” He grabbed your chin, his hide glove rough against your skin. “Am I that villain you write about? Is that what you think?”

“No, I…” You smacked him again and again. “I was just---” He let off just a little as you gulped for air. “There’s a storm. You shouldn’t be out here--”

“You think I can’t handle a storm?” He snarled. “You’re not a very good liar and trust me, I’ve known a lot of liars.”

“Let go of me.” You pleaded. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I followed you, okay? I was just… curious.”

“Uh huh,” He turned you and forced his arm around your neck as he bent you over. You kicked as he dragged you through the snow towards the river. “WHat do you think? I’m hiding some big secret like one of those books you read?”

“Let--go,” Your feet slid through the blanket below. “Stop! What are you--”

“You think I’m what? A criminal? A murderer!?” He pulled you up and spun you away from him. You stumbled backwards as you faced him.

Your boots slid beneath you and you hearth the hard thunk of your sole against the the ice. Thick but not thick enough. You held out your hands as you looked down at the river coursing below the brittle surface. Your heart raced in your ears. You tried to take a step forward but he was at the bank, watching you.

“Ah ah,” He raised his hand. “You stay where you are.”

“What are you doing?” You pushed your feet apart. “Andy--”

“Terrible accident you falling through the ice like that. There’s just so much snow, you can’t really tell where the water begins.” He smiled and tucked his hands in his pocket as you heard the slow crack beneath you. “Your mother will be devastated.”

You swallowed as your eyes wetted and you looked between him and your feet. You lifted your boot and the snap below you had your heart in your throat. You plunged into the freezing water with a shrill shriek, your arms flying up to grab onto the ice.

The frozen sheet broke as you tried to latch on and you kicked as the water soaked your coat and dragged you down into the depth further. You flapped helplessly and spun in circles in the waves. The water filled your lungs and you choked and you stared up through the frigid foam, the blurry shadow staring down at you.

The cold bit deep into your flesh and your limbs weakened the more you struggled. The water smothered you and your body spasmed in the thralls of finality. Your eyes rolled back and the dark water flowed around you in welcome.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #dark andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #andy barber x reader #fic #series #a place like this #lumberjack au #au #lumberjack #Defending Jacob #dark fic #dark!fic

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tomteworks · 2 years

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Updates (No photos today)

Wow, it’s been months since I’ve put anything here and it sure hasn’t been because I haven’t been crafting! Right after finishing my array of cabled hats I made a couple patternless scarves using super jumbo acrylic left over from knitting a blanket. I held it double with some leftover Lion Brand Homespun in either a green or gold colorway (I don’t remember the names or have the ball bands anymore) and knitted it in double stockinette. It was So Fast--like, knit the whole scarf in an evening while watching TV even though the double stockinette meant that it took twice as long to get length as it otherwise would fast. I also, in September, cast on a sweater using the Cabled Crew Neck free pattern from Patton’s Classic Wool (I’m using undyed Wool of the Andes from Knitpicks though). I’m done with the front and back and working, slowly on the sleeves. It’s fun and elaborate and I’m really enjoying it even though it’s taken me a thousand years. I’m a little worried about the sizing--the pattern’s recommended size for me is way bigger than I usually wear and the stated finished measurements for the smallest size are larger than my measurements. My gauge was also a tiny bit too big, so I figured that since I don’t like things with like 8 inches of ease, I’d make the small and hope that mine turns out just a tiny bit bigger than the projected measurements, still giving me a substantial amount of ease in the finished garment. Looking at the back and front pieces, I think I’m right about that, but we won’t know for sure until it’s done and I’ve seamed it all up!

Since the cables of that are a bit tiring sometimes, in January I also cast on a shawl--Hawthorn Tincture by TheCrimsonStitchery, which I’m doing in Brooklyn Tweed Shelter in Almanac. That’s been absolutely gorgeous and I’m really enjoying knitting it in between bits of the sweater. It’s easy and breezy and elegant with lots of garter stitch but enough fun texture to be appealing. I’m almost at the end of that, but, since it’s a triangular shawl, those last 24 rows or so will probably take as long as the whole first section. I look forward to showing these off once they become FOs (and to finishing some of the other, smaller, projects I’ve had going--a doily that’s been sitting almost done for months and a cross-stitch project that always progresses less quickly than I expect). Hopefully I’ll have photos and things fairly soon!

#crafts #knitttting #text #update #my work

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rushingheadlong · 3 years

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Our Love Will Keep You Warm - A Brian/Reader fic

Summary: On the day of a Queen music video shoot, you find a few ways to take care of Brian and show him just how much you love him.

Wordcount: ~3,000

Tags: Brian/Reader (gender is not specified), fluff

Notes: Set on the day that Queen filmed the Spread Your Wings and We Will Rock You music videos.

This has been a WIP since September 2019, and I finally decided to buckle down and finish writing it. I did my best to piece everything together smoothly, but if parts of it seem a little disjointed it’s because of that large break in writing this.

Despite your best efforts, you have never been an early riser. It’s one of the traits you share with Brian; both of you love lazy mornings spent in bed, curled up around each other and dozing for as long as possible. It’s not often these days that Brian is able to sleep in late, though, and you cherish those too-infrequent days where you both have nowhere to be and no reason to get out of bed.

Unfortunately it’s barely dawn when Brian’s alarm goes off on this particular morning. You groan at the shrill noise, and even though you want to roll over and fall back asleep you force your eyes open, blinking blearily up at the ceiling as Brian silences the alarm and sits up in bed.

“Good morning,” he says softly, leaning over to kiss you gently. “Sorry for waking you up.”

You smile sleepily at him, and reach up to cradle Brian’s face. Even in the dim light of early morning he looks like an angel, his messy curls framing his head like a dark halo. “‘s fine,” you mumble. “Love you.”

Brian lets out a small huff of laughter and turns his face to press a kiss against your palm. “Love you too,” he says. “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

You hum, noncommittal, and Brian kisses you one more time before getting out of bed. You wait until you hear Brian enter the bathroom and the door closes behind him, before forcing yourself upright with a heavy sigh. You have a surprise planned for Brian before he leaves to film a music video with Queen and although you wish it was a surprise that could be carried out from the comfort of your bed it isn’t, and you know you need to actually get moving.

Still, when you swing your legs over the side of the bed you immediately regret your decision to get out from under the warm blankets. London is in the middle of a cold snap, with today forecasted to be the worst of it, and that prediction unfortunately seems to be holding true. You’re quick to throw on your slippers and you also grab Brian’s dressing gown from where it’s hanging on the back of the door. It’s too big on you and drags on the ground when you wear it, but it’s soft and warm and smells like Brian, and you bury your face into the collar as you make your way down to the kitchen.

Making tea is a task that you can complete on autopilot, but the same cannot be said for cooking. You start by just opening the fridge and hoping that if you stare at its contents for long enough you’ll be able to remember what your plans for breakfast were going to be. You’re too tired to remember if Brian is eating meat this month or not, so you decide to skip the sausages. Just toast, then, with tomatoes and mushrooms, and if Brian wants eggs as well you can cook some while he’s eating everything else so they don’t go cold.

Armed with a plan, you pull out your ingredients and start heating up a pan. You’re pretty sure that you doze off once or twice while you’re standing at the stove, and once the water is ready you quickly pour the first cup of tea for yourself because you desperately need it to wake up. Then you make tea for Brian, plus enough to fill a thermos for him to take with, and start heating the kettle again again while you start on the toast, because you already know that one cup just isn’t going to cut it today.

Brian finally makes it into the kitchen while you’re staring at the toaster, trying to will it into working a little faster. “Hey,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his head on your shoulder. “What’re you doing up? You should’ve gone back to sleep.”

“I wanted to take care of you,” you tell him. Despite the tea you’re still not entirely awake and the words come out slightly mumbled.

Brian chuckles at your sleepy response, and kisses the side of your neck. “Take care of me, hm?”

“Yeah,” you say around a yawn. “Need to make sure you’re all prepared for today, so you don’t freeze to death.”

“I’m sure I won’t freeze to death,” Brian says. You can hear the amusement in his voice, warm like honey, and it makes you smile. “They can’t film a music video if we lose fingers to frostbite.”

“Still. Not taking a chance,” you say. You motion towards the cup and plate on the counter and say, “So, breakfast. And there’s a thermos to take with you.”

“You’re amazing,” Brian says. “Are you going to eat something too, or just inhale tea until you wake up?”

You laugh a little at that. “I’ll eat. Just waiting on my-” As if on cue the toaster pops up and you motion vaguely towards it, as Brian grabs a plate and sets it down next to you. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Brian grabs his own plate and cup of coffee and takes a seat at your small kitchen table, but he doesn’t start eating until you’re sitting down as well. His feet knock against yours under the table and you hook your ankle around his, and smile at him a little sleepily as you sip at your tea and try to wake up a little bit more.

It’s quiet, just the sounds of the two of you eating and the faint noises from the street drifting in from outside, and you can almost understand why some people enjoy the early hours of the morning when the world is still asleep around them… but it’s still not quite for you, and you’re still yawning even as you finish breakfast and Brian starts getting ready to leave.

“You should go back to bed,” Brian tells you as he finishes putting on his shoes and grabs his coat. “No sense in both of us being exhausted later.”

“Unfortunately you’re not the only one with things to get done today,” you say. “But if I have time, I’ll probably nap a little this afternoon.”

“Wish I could nap with you,” Brian says, a little glumly, as he double-checks that he has everything he’ll need today.

“Well, you can look forward to coming home and letting me warm you up at the end of the day instead,” you tell him.

Brian laughs a little at that and pulls you in for a gentle kiss. “I’ll be counting down the hours until I get back home.”

“I’m sure you will,” you say with a small laugh of your own - and then you suddenly remember that you have one more surprise for him this morning and you wiggle out of his arms, ignoring his pout as you cross back over to the kitchen counter and grab the package that you had set out earlier. “I almost forgot this! Here, open it.”

“What is it? A gift?” Brian asks as he takes it from you. It’s a soft bundle, wrapped in a simple brown paper, and Brian turns it over in his hands as if he can somehow figure out what’s inside without needing to open it at all. “It’s not Christmas, and it’s not my birthday…”

“Do I need a reason to give you nice things?”

“Well, I suppose not, no.” Brian finally starts to open the package and as he pulls the paper away a scarf tumbles out, the ends of it just brushing against the floor before Brian scoops them back up. “Oh…”

The scarf is long, over six feet in length, the mottled reds-and-browns creating subtle stripes across the rows. “It’s so soft,” Brian says as he runs his fingers over it. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it,” you say, and Brian looks up at you in surprise. “Been working on it for awhile, actually. I wanted to have it done by Christmas but it took me a bit longer to finish than I expected.”

“I didn’t even know you could knit,” Brian admits. He smiles at you and asks, teasing, “What other secret talents have you been hiding, hm?”

“Nothing else, I can promise you that,” you tell him. “And this is hardly a talent, it’s all lumpy and I don’t know if it’s long enough and-”

“And it’s perfect,” Brian cuts in. “Lumps and all, I love it.”

“Do you really?”

“Of course I do,” Brian assures you. “You spent all this time and effort making it for me, how could I not love it?” He shakes it out and asks, “Help me put it on?”

So you do, helping Brian wrap it around his neck and adjusting it so both ends are even. You’re relieved to see that it is long enough, even on Brian’s tall frame, and you smile up at him, pleased and proud that your gift appears to be a success. “There. What do you think of that?”

“I love it,” Brian says sincerely. “Thank you. Honestly, I never want to take it off.”

You laugh and can’t help but point out, “I doubt they’ll let you wear a handmade scarf in a Queen music video!”

“They can certainly try to make me take it off but honestly, we’re filming this in Roger’s back garden. There’s already not much of a rock ‘n’ roll look to this production,” Brian says, rolling his eyes. “And with how cold it’s going to be, I think we’ll all be clinging to whatever bits of warmth we can find.”

“Well if the scarf helps keep you from freezing today, it’ll be well worth the effort it took to make it,” you tell Brian. “And you have the thermos too, and I’m sure everyone will want to get this over with as quickly as possible…”

“Oh, I’m sure they will. I still wish we didn’t have to do this at all, but…” He sighs and shrugs in a, What can you do about it? sort of way. “Hopefully I’ll be home soon enough.”

You lean up to kiss him again. “And I’ll be here waiting for you when you do.”

It’s still early enough that you drag your feet on properly starting your day even once Brian leaves. You putter around the house for a while, washing the dishes from breakfast and making the bed and tidying up some of Brian’s songwriting notes spread across the desk tucked into the corner of the living room, before you finally bring yourself to get dressed and leave the house to run errands.

It certainly is cold outside today, nearly freezing, and even though you’re bundled up with gloves and a hat and a scarf of your own the wind still seems to cut through your layers and leaves you shivering as you hurry down the street. By the time you reach the first shop of the day your nose and cheeks almost hurt from the cold and you spare a thought for Brian, and the rest of Queen, who you know are going to be outside in this weather for almost the entire day.

You had been joking earlier when you told Brian that you needed to be sure he wouldn’t freeze to death today… but now you really are hoping that they all make it through the filming without becoming rockstar ice lollies.

The moment you get back home you crank up the heat, make yourself a cup of tea, and drag your warmest blanket into the living room so you can curl up underneath it on the couch. You don’t usually think of your house as being particularly drafty but right now it certainly feels like every tiny crack and crevice is enough to let the icy chill inside.

You shiver and burrow deeper underneath your blanket and can’t help but think that animals who hibernate all winter seem to have the right idea of things. Who really wants to be awake on a day like this, anyway?

Clearly you don’t, because you end up falling asleep there on the couch and you only wake up again when you hear the unmistakable noise of someone fumbling with a key in the lock.

You blink blearily and rub at your eyes as you sit up. It’s late enough that the sun has nearly completely set, and it takes you a moment to figure out that that must be Brian trying to unlock the front door. It isn’t until you hear him stumble inside and bounce off the wall by the door that you remember that Brian has been outside in this weather all day.

The poor dear must be frozen to the bone, and you quickly gather up your blanket and pad out into the front hallway. Brian is slumped against the wall, shivering and looking absolutely exhausted, but when you call out his name his eyes light up as he looks at you and the smile he gives you may be faint, but it’s still absolutely sincere.

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day?” he asks.

“Never mind about my day. You look like yours was terrible,” you say as you walk over to help him out of his coat.

“Ended up filming two videos today, instead of just the one,” Brian mumbles. He tries to help you unwrap the scarf from around his neck but his hands are fumbling and uncoordinated, and you eventually end up just batting them away and doing it yourself.

“Thanks,” he sighs, and you can smell alcohol on his breath - but you can’t really fault him for drinking when he’s with the band, especially not on a day like today.

You wrap the blanket around his shoulders and lean up to kiss him chastely, and you have to suppress a shiver of your own when you feel how cold his lips are underneath yours. “Do you want a cuppa?” you ask.

Brian shakes his head. “I’ve drank enough tea today to drown myself in it.”

You laugh and say, “Alright, fair enough. But you have to warm up a bit, so come on…”

You lead him into the living room where he sinks onto the couch with another tired sigh and when you sit down next to him he immediately curls up against your side, pressing as close to you as possible. You drag another blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around you both, and you take one of his hands in your own to start gently rubbing some warmth back into it.

He hisses as he starts to regain feeling in his fingers and you kiss the top of his head in apologize, “Sorry, love, but you’ll feel better once they’re warmed up.”

“Still hate it,” Brian grumbles. “And I hate Freddie and Roger. They got to wear gloves.”

You can’t help but smile at the petulant whine in Brian’s voice. He’s clearly exhausted, and more than a bit tipsy, and you feel a little bad for thinking that he’s kind of adorable like this. “Well, that’s the advantage of not playing a guitar, I suppose.”

Brian huffs, his breath warm against your skin - unlike his nose, which is still ice-cold when he buries it against your neck. You just barely manage to stop yourself from flinching, and you switch to rubbing his other hand before Brian decides to stick that icicle against you as well.

“I couldn’t even play my guitar,” he continues. “Had to use the replica because of the snow.”

“Better than damaging your Old Lady,” you point out, even though you know that Brian already knows that. “Anything good about today, or was it all miserable?”

“Fred had whiskey, which he was kind enough to share with us to help us get through filming,” Brian answers. “‘course, Rog had to point out that it wouldn’t actually stop us from getting frostbite, but he had gloves and it made us feel warm so we kept drinking anyway.”

You laugh a little at Brian’s explanation of his day. It’ll be interesting to see if Brian continues to hold this grudge about the gloves in the days to come. “Yeah, I figured alcohol was involved in some part of your day.” You kiss his hand, which is now at least a little bit warmer, and add, “At least you didn’t actually get frostbite. I’d say that’s another good thing about your day.”

“And I had your scarf.” Brian’s voice is getting softer, his words slurring together as the early morning and long hours in the cold start to catch up to him. “That was a good thing.”

“Ah, yes, the scarf,” you say with a smile. “Did they let you keep it on for the videos, then?”

“Yeah. Didn’t give ‘em much of a choice about it,” Brian mumbles. “‘s very soft. And warm.”

“Well, that was kind of the point,” you say. “C’mon, Bri. Let’s get you to bed, before you pass out on top of me here.”

Brian groans in protest, clearly displeased at the idea of having to move now that he’s gotten comfortable against you. “Only if you come to bed with me.”

“I’ll come to bed now if you stay in bed with me tomorrow morning,” you offer.

“Deal,” Brian says, almost immediately. He lifts his head to smile at you, and despite the exhaustion lining his face it’s still clear that he’s pleased by this arrangement. “I don’t have anywhere else to be tomorrow, so I’m all yours.”

You kiss Brian’s forehead, smiling at the way that he presses up against the contact. “I definitely like the sound of that.”

#brian may fanfic #brian may fic #brian may x reader #queen band fic #queen band fanfic #my fic #text #brian

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yellowsuitcase · 3 years

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Christmas Morning // Ron Weasley

A/N: Hello! Happy first of December! I thought a great way to start off this month would be by posting a Ron Weasley fluff. (In this fic, Voldy doesn’t exist. ) Enjoy, and Happy Holidays!

Summary: Y/N spends Christmas at the Burrow with her boyfriend Ron.

Warning(s): None.

Word Count: 2.3k

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light streaming in from the Burrow’s windows. She sat up slowly and stretched her arms up to the sky, letting out a soft groan. Once she finished waking up her muscles, she glanced around the room and noticed all the décor. It’s Christmas, she remembered. Through the floorboards, she could hear that the Weasley’s were already downstairs. Mrs. Weasley was yelling at Fred while White Christmas was playing on an old fashioned radio. A few weeks ago, Mr. Weasley had found it at a muggle consignment shop, Ron had told her. Y/N pulled back the red and orange bed sheets on Ron's bed and touched her naked feet to the floor. It was cold to the touch, so she walked over to her bag and pulled out fuzzy white socks her mother had gifted to her before she left to spend this Christmas at the Weasley’s. She slipped them on her feet and headed for the door.

Y/N failed to contain her excitement as she practically skipped down the steps until reaching the bottom floor. She turned the corner, passing the warm fireplace and sparkling tree, and walked into the kitchen where the entire family was digging in. Upon noticing her arrival, Mrs. Weasley smiled and stood up from her chair. “Happy Christmas, Y/N!” she said brightly, opening her arms up for a hug. Y/N eagerly embraced her, laughing as she did so. “Happy Christmas,” she replied.

“You’re just in time for breakfast; we’ve saved you a plate right next to Ron,” Mr. Weasley notified her. Y/N gave her thanks to him and sat herself down next to her boyfriend. Ron leaned in for a sweet kiss. “Good morning, darling. Did you sleep okay? I didn't wake you, did it? It was hard to maneuver myself out of bed,” he chuckled. Y/N blushed and nodded. “I slept wonderfully, thank you, Ronald.”

“Eat faster. I want to open presents,” Fred said impatiently. “Fred! You’d better watch your mouth, or you won’t be getting any presents. Besides, Y/N just got here, let the girl get some food in her stomach,” Mrs. Weasley scolded. Y/N smiled softly, trying not to laugh at Fred. He glanced up at her and shot her a wink. “I’m only joking, Mum,” he replied. Mrs. Weasley scoffed as she sat back in her chair. Y/N started to eat her food. She, just as much as Fred, was excited to open presents. Ron, beside her, was nearly done with his plate. It only had a piece of toast left on it. He picked it up, folded it over, and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. Y/N promptly bent over with laughter, causing everyone’s eyes to turn to her.

“Ron Weasley, I know you did not just put that entire piece of toast in your mouth.” Ron furrowed his eyebrows. “What?” he asked with his mouth full. Y/N shook her head in disappointment. “He can’t control himself, that boy,” Mrs. Weasley mused as Mr. Weasley nodded his head in agreement. “Yeah, the amount of times Mum has had to do the Heimlich on him is staggering. He used to choke every other day when he was younger,” George informed Y/N. Ron, who had swallowed his bread, spoke up. “I did not. And besides, it’s not like I set off a smoke bomb in the middle of dinner, just for a laugh,” he fired back.

“That’s enough, boys. It’s Christmas; no arguing allowed. Now, take your dishes to the sink and let's gather ‘round the tree, alright? Y/N, dear, take all the time you need; we won’t start without you,” Mrs. Weasley told Y/N. The Weasleys put their plates away and headed for the living room, leaving just Ron and Y/N. “Oh, no worries! I think I’m done. I want to save room for your delicious Christmas dinner that I’ve heard so much about!” Y/N replied happily. Mrs. Weasley blushed and waved her off. “It’s nothing. Now go on, you two, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Ron took Y/N’s hand and led her to the living room. They settled onto the couch and threw a blanket on top of their legs. Ron turned his head to look at Y/N. “I’m really excited for you to see what I’ve gotten you,” he told her before pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said quietly. Ron shook his head, adamantly. “Nonsense, you’re my girlfriend, of course, I got you something.” Y/N sighed but rested her head on Ron’s shoulder and squeezed his hand lovingly. Shortly, Mrs. Weasley came into the room and sat down in the wooden rocking chair next to the tree. It was drowning in colorfully wrapped boxes. “Ginny, dear. Why don’t you open one of your gifts first?” she suggested. Ginny nodded and grasped the closest present with her name on it. Y/N felt Ron shift uncomfortably next to her. “You’ll get to open yours soon enough, Ronald. So impatient,” she whispered. Her boyfriend responded by slightly shoving her, eliciting a little giggle from her lips.

Their antics were interrupted by Ginny gasping. In her hands were brand new quidditch gloves. They had red accents around the base to match her Hogwarts house. “Thanks, Mum! I needed new ones,” Ginny said. Her mother smiled proudly. “I’m glad you like them. I even embroidered the red bits on it, did you see?” Ginny nodded and placed her gloves tenderly beside her. She then grabbed a small box and looked at the tag to see who it was addressed to, but was stopped short by Mrs. Weasley's sharp inhale. “I forgot! Ginny, would you grab that large bag back there? It has gifts for everyone.” Ginny did as her mother asked and handed the bag to her. Mrs. Weasley, one by one, pulled out each gift and gave them to their respective recipients. Once everyone had their package in their hands, Mrs. Weasley smiled and urged them to open it. Y/N ripped the red colored paper eagerly, while Ron opened his unhurriedly. He knew what it was going to be, as did the rest of his family. Y/N, however, didn’t know what to expect. But when she pulled out a dark green sweater with her first initial knitted onto the front. She gasped and immediately pulled it over her head. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley! It’s so cozy,” she gushed. Ron smiled at his lover. He and his brothers and sister had received one of these sweaters every year. But for Y/N, she had never gotten one. And to receive one meant his mother regarded her as part of the family. This filled Ron with pride. And on top of that, she looked absolutely adorable in it.

After everyone put on their sweater, they continued with presents. “Dad, here’s one for you. It’s from Y/N,” Fred said as he passed his father the box. “Y/N, you shouldn’t have,” Mr. Weasley said lightly as he shook the box. “I wonder what it is,” he said while ripping the wrapping paper to reveal an electric razor. But it seemed as though Mr. Weasley didn’t know what it was just by the picture, so Y/N filled him in. “It’s an electric razor. You flick it on, and that way, you don’t have to go through the hassle of rinsing the normal little one. Does that make sense?” she asked. Mr. Weasley’s eyebrows were knit together as he opened the box and lifted up the small mechanism. “I think so, but I’m not sure.” Y/N chuckled. “I’ll go over the instructions with you later if you’d like,” she offered. He smiled and placed the razor back in the box. “What a curious little thing this is… Yes, that’d be great Y/N, thank you very much.”

Y/N snuggled close to Ron. She loved watching people open gifts; it made her feel fuzzy inside. They continued opening presents. Fred got a new scarf as well as a gobstone set. George got a scarf too, but instead of gobstones, he got a fanged frisbee. The twins were rather excited about that one. Ginny, along with her gloves, got a necklace with six rings to signify quidditch hoops. A large pack of chocolate frogs was gifted to Ron and another Chudley Cannons poster to slap on his wall. Mrs. Weasley got a new knitting basket full of supplies, and Mr. Weasley got a set of ties. Y/N got a large basket full of prank items from the twins, a makeup palette from Ginny, and a wallet from Mr. Weasley. She was extremely pleased with her gifts and promised each giver that she’d try them out as soon as possible. Once all the presents were gone, everyone began to scatter, some to test their new items and others to get properly dressed. Regardless, this left Ron and Y/N on the couch.

“So, are you ready for your present?” Y/N asked. Ron smiled, “I am. Where have you hidden it?” he asked. His girlfriend laughed. “It’s in my bag; hold on.” She wordlessly summoned the gift. It landed in her hands, and she passed it off to Ron. It was wrapped in red and silver striped paper and had a gold bow on top. Ron gingerly removed the bow and tore the paper. He was now left with a simple black box. When he opened it, he breathed, "Wow." Inside was a wooden wristwatch with walnut colored straps. Ron took it off the little pillow and studied it intently. Inside the face were various small holes, almost like the moon or perhaps a sponge. He unhooked the latch and wrapped it around his wrist.

“You like it?” Y/N asked nervously. “I love it, darling," Ron assured her. "Thank you. Could you help me latch it?” he asked. Y/N nodded and leaned over his wrist, her fingers nimbly pushing the prong through the hole and fastening it tightly. When she pulled away, Ron’s hand touched her cheek, and he drew her in for a kiss. She sighed softly, melting into him. “Now, it’s your turn,” Ron murmured after pulling away. He stood up from the couch and walked over to a shelf where he opened the top drawer and drew out a long, slender box wrapped in blue paper. He remained standing and handed Y/N the box. She looked at curiously, wondering what could be in such a skinny box. But when she removed the cover and saw what was inside, her face broke out in a genuine grin. Inside was an elegant red quill, spotted with gold flecks. Y/N ran her finger along the center, feeling its smoothness. She picked it up and held it in her dominant hand just as she would any other quill. It felt perfect. “Ron, this is beautiful. I hope it wasn’t expensive…” Ron smiled and awkwardly rested his hand on his neck. “It was a bit pricey, but I knew you’d love it so I had to get it,” Ron said with a blush on his cheeks. Y/N set the quill back in its box and stood up to face him. “Ron Weasley. I love you so much.”

Suddenly, the radio went silent, catching their attention. The pair turned their heads towards it, wondering why it was quiet. But then the telltale sound of winter bells filled the air. “Silver bells...silver bells... it’s Christmas time in the city…” Y/N averted her attention back to her boyfriend. He smirked at her and held out his hand. “May I have this dance, Ms. Y/L/N?” Y/N giggled at his playfulness but took his outstretched hand nonetheless. He pulled her close, gently pushing her head to lie against his chest. Her hand was still in his as it too rested on his chest. Ron’s opposite hand landed on her waist. They began to gently sway back and forth, letting the music fill their ears. After a few moments, Ron even started to hum along. The vibrations from his chest lulled Y/N’s eyes closed. She felt so happy, so peaceful in his arms.

“Happy Christmas, Y/N. I’m really glad you’re here,” Ron whispered in her ear. Y/N took her head off his chest to gaze up at him. “Happy Christmas, Ron,” she replied. The couple’s dance was interrupted by the sound of a loud click. They froze in place as they snapped their heads in the direction from which they heard the noise. There stood Molly Weasley, a camera in her hands. “Oh, I’m sorry, dears, but you two looked so sweet, I had to capture the moment. You can have the photo; it’s already been printed,” she said excitedly as she passed the image to Ron. He brought it towards him while shaking his head at his mother. Y/N grasped his wrist and pulled it down so that she, too, could see it. There they were, pressed against one another, swaying back and forth. Then the Y/N in the picture lifted her head to look at Ron. Real-life Y/N had to admit that the photo was definitely worth it despite their moment being cut short.

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. This is the best Christmas gift, being here with you and your lovely family.” The red-headed woman blushed. “Of course, dear, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I’ll leave you to it now, sorry for interrupting.” She scurried back to the kitchen, once again leaving the couple alone. Ron scoffed. “Can’t believe that woman,” he said. Y/N lightly whacked his shoulder. “Hush, you. Because of her, we now have this wonderful photograph,” she scolded. Ron sighed and brought the picture closer to his face. “It is a really nice photo,” he admitted. Y/N laughed at him, grabbed his face, and placed a tender kiss on his lips; he returned it eagerly, relishing in the feeling of his girl in his arms.

“This will probably end up being one of my favorite Christmases,” Ron said when she pulled away from the kiss. Y/N rested her head against his chest yet again, breathing in his comforting scent. “Yeah, I think so too.”

Taglist: @cutie1365 @orangecrayon @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dixiethemorab24 @prongsandprancer

#ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #Ron Weasley #ronald weasley #ronald bilius weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #the burrow #christmas hogwarts #christmas at the burrow #harry potter christmas #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley fluff #fluff #ron fluff

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ikeromantic · 4 years

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Ikemen vampire theo x mc where theo and MC become parents and theo has to take care of the baby for a day by himself? LOL if it’s to hard u don’t gotta do it idk if I requested this before lol

Day 26 of Ikemektober!

I haven’t read all of Theo’s route yet, so I don’t know how accurate to character this is - but I hope you enjoy ^_^ Approx. 1800 words of baby filled fluffiness for the ask.

Theo snuggled to his precious hondje despite the insistent sunlight streaming in the windows. She was soft and warm, and it felt good to have her nestled against his chest. If fate allowed, he might have stayed right where he was until Sebas announced lunch. But late morning weren’t for parents.

As if on cue, the twins began to cry. Anna was breathy and quiet, but her sister Akari made up for that in spades. Her cry was demanding and loud, and there was no way to ignore it. Not even for five more minutes in bed with his lovely wife.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Oh - oh, my babies. I’m coming, coming . . .”

Theodorus watched her stumbled from the room, half asleep. She was exhausted since they’d had the twins. It was a lot of work, even with helpful uncles in the manor.

He watched her shuffle back from the nursery, a baby in each arm. They had their mother’s dark, straight hair and their daddy’s big blue eyes. A deadly combination. Theo scooped Akari up and bounced her in his arms. She stopped crying as soon as he held her.

“Ah, papa has the magic touch, hm?” His wife smiled at him. “I don’t think they’re even hungry. They just wanted company.” Anna was settled too, happy to be held. The four of them ended up laid out in bed, the two babies in the middle with their mom and dad on the sides.

Hondje was falling asleep already, with long, slow blinks. Theo felt bad for her shouldering so much of the work with the babies. He wanted to help out - he just wasn’t sure what one did with a baby. They were terribly fragile things.

As if to illustrate his point, Akari wrapped her tiny hand around his finger and started chewing on it. Her mouth was small and pink and it tickled a little.

“Trying to eat me up, eh?” He laughed quietly. Maybe he could try to give his beauty a break today. Let her sleep in, take a long hot bath, eat pancakes in blessed silence . . . all things neither of them had done since the babies were born.

All he had to do was take care of these two feisty little ones for a few hours. Surely . . . surely that couldn’t be too hard.

Theo slipped out of bed, silent as a cat. He carefully lifted Anna and Akari and took them for a chat with Vincent.

“So what I want to do is take care of them all today - but, what do you do with a baby, broer?”

Vincent tickled Anna’s tummy, fascinated by her smiles. He didn’t look up as he replied. “Well, if you want her to have peace and quiet, you should take them out someplace.”

“Like a gallery or a cafe?” Theo tried to imagine it. All he could picture was Akari and Anna trying to eat random items and crying a lot.

“No. Someplace they can just . . . be babies. Maybe take them for a picnic?” Vincent finally looked up.

“A baby picnic? I guess that could work.” They would stay on the blanket, safe and sound, and well out of their mother’s hair.

“Perfect. Why don’t you get them dressed and I’ll meet you out front with some picnic supplies.” Vincent smiled widely.

“Are you coming with us?”

“Of course! I can’t miss a chance to dote on my sweet nieces.”

Theo carried the babies out. At eight months, they were getting a little heavy but they were still too small to walk. He didn’t mind the weight but he wished they wouldn’t wiggle a kick so much.

It took Theodorus almost an hour to get the little ones bundled up for an autumn day. Long sleeve dresses and little warm leggings courtesy many shopping trips with Comte, mittens and boots from Arthur and Dazai, and a red scarf for Akari, and a yellow one for Anna. He topped it off with little knit caps shaped like an apple and a pumpkin. The hats and scarves were handmade by Sebas. He’d taken to knitting cute accessories for the girls in his spare time, and seemed to really enjoy seeing the twins wear his creations.

“Why do my babies look like they’re part of a harvest festival?”

Theo turned to see his beauty in the doorway, making puppy eyes at him. “Mijn knabbel, I was going to surprise you with a day to yourself.” He felt ridiculous having to tell her about it. Couldn’t she see what he was doing?

She crossed the room and put a kiss on his cheek before he could say anything else. “Thank you, love.”

The look in her eye made him go warm inside, like a summer breeze. It reminded him of all the reasons he loved her. “Just go back to bed, hondje. You look tired.”

“Mmm, I will. I want to be rested up when you get back.”

“Oh?” And now Theo knew he had something to look forward to. He gave her a quick goodbye kiss and took the squirming babies to the front entry.

Vincent was waiting for him with a double carriage for the babies and a big basket of goodies. He also had a blanket for the ground, a spare one for the babies in case they were cold. “Are you ready to go?”

“I think so. They’re dressed and wiggly.” Theo laughed, setting the babies in the carriage. He looked at the basket on his brother’s arm. “Did you bring something for them to eat?”

“I did. Sebas made up a special pancake and berry blend and put it in little jars. They will love it.” Vincent grinned. “I’m hoping to sketch them today. They are almost a year old and I haven’t managed to get a single good painting of either of them.”

“They move too much.” Theo gave the babies a mock stern look. “You have to hold still for mijn broer when he’s painting you.”

Anna and Akari gurgled at him in response, completely unrepentant.

The brothers took the babies out to Vincent’s favorite flower meadow. They laid the blanket under a tree and set the babies down on it. Anna sat where her papa put her, but Akari pushed herself up on all-fours and wobbled toward a pile of fallen leaves.

Theo scooped her up just before she got there. “Think you can escape little one?”

She started to cry, an angry, helpless sound.

Vincent put his hands to his ears. “Can’t you let her play in the leaves? It wouldn’t hurt anything. We used to play in leaf piles all the time.”

“Yes but -” Theo wasn’t sure how to put it into words. It was different when it was your baby. You worried more. About all kinds of things. Still, his brother was probably right.

“Ok, ok,” he told Akari, and set her down on the blanket. She immediately stopped crying and went for the leaves again. “Just don’t eat them - please?”

Vincent laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you plead like that. Being a father has changed you.”

Theo shrugged. His brother was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. The two of them watched the babies crawl over and under the leaves, picking up the bright red and yellow ones to stare at them in wonder. And occasionally gnaw at them with their little slobbery mouths.

Gloves, hats, scarves, and booties disappeared through playtime, replaced by dirt and dead leaves. A different sort of fall costume, Theo mused.

Vincent managed a few quick sketches, but the girls made it hard to catch them in any pose. They had so much energy and everything fascinated them.

Eventually they got tired and let their papa and uncle feed them. Then promptly fell asleep in the baby carriage.

“I guess that’s our cue to head home,” Vincent sighed.

Theo nodded and stood up to gather the scattered picnic items. He found the two hats, and the mittens and boots, but the scarves were gone. He tore through the leaf pile and checked under the picnic blanket. They weren’t there. Or in the baby carriage. Or in the basket.

“What’s wrong,” Vincent asked. “Did you drop something?”

“No. Godverdomme. I can’t find the girls’ scarves. They have to be here someplace.”

“The ones Sebas just gave them to wear for winter?”

“Yes, those.” He shot his brother a look of annoyance that faded the second it landed. It was impossible to be annoyed with Vincent. “Can you help me look for them?”

“I will. I’d hate to see Sebastian’s face if we had to tell him we lost them.”

“Thanks, broer. Helpful.”

“Don’t worry Theo. We’ll find them.” Vincent gave his angelic smile and the two of them tore through the picnic site again. Still no scarves.

Theo knew they needed to get back soon, but he didn’t want to give up. That just wasn’t his style. “Did you check the grass, Vince?”

“Yes, and I went through the leaf pile again. Lots of red and yellow, nothing knit.”

“And the picnic basket?”

Vincent sighed. “We both looked through it. Unless Akari and Anna managed to stick them in the jam jars, the scarves aren’t in there either.”

Theo popped open the basket and checked the jam jars just in case. With the babies, you could never be sure.

“I think we’ll just have to admit we lost them, Theo. I’m sure Sebas will be alright. The twins got to where them out once at least.”

“Yeah.” Theodorus felt a sudden wave of exhaustion. It had been a very nice day but the ending spoilt it all.

He and Vincent pushed the baby carriage back to the manor in low spirits. Anna and Akari slept through the whole drama, unaware of the importance of their missing scarves.

Sebastian met them at the door, all smiles. “Did you have a nice day out? Did the girls like their pancakes?” He leaned down to look at the snoozing pups. His smile faltered. “Ah, still not cold enough weather for a scarf?”

Vincent looked over at Theo.

It would be easy to lie right now. Say that’s right, and then the scarves could go missing without it being his fault. But Theodorus wasn’t one to shirk responsibility. Sometimes you had to man up. Admit your faults. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels, as he considered how best to break the news.

His fingers brushed something wooly and soft. His eyes widened.

“What is it, broer?”

Theo tugged the soft fluff from his pocket. A scarf. Yellow. And in the other pocket, one red. He grinned at Sebas. “Nah, they took them off while they were playing. I stuck them in my pockets for safe keeping.”

Vincent laughed, relieved. “I wish you could have seen them, Sebastian. They were so cute.”

Sebas smiled. “Well, I’ll have to wait for your next outing.” He gestured upstairs. “I believe your lady is waiting for you?”

Theo grinned.

Vincent nudged his arm. “Don’t worry, Sebas and I will babysit the rest of tonight.”

He didn’t need anymore encouragement. He bounded upstairs, eager to show the mother of his children how much he appreciated her.

#ikemektober #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus #ikevamp van gogh #ikevamp parent #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic

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dandyxrandy · 3 years

Text

First Snow - Ezra x Reader

It had been a slight adjustment when you and Ezra returned to Earth, your home planet. You both had agreed, for your own sanity, that you both would return there after you got off of The Green, and settle. Ezra was used to traveling and had no roots to ground himself too. Any belongings he had were probably confiscated and distributed throughout the crew members of his mutiny ship. All he had left was whatever was on The Green and you.

It was your first year together that you learned that Ezra never saw snow. It just simply wasn’t on any of the planets he had traveled too and the thought blew your mind. It wasn’t that you didn’t like or dislike snow - it was just a normal occurrence where you grew up that was more of a pain in the ass than not. But when you heard that there was going to be a snow storm tonight, the first big one of the year, you couldn’t help but be giddy. Ezra was confused at your preparations and your eagerness as you threw together a makeshift blanket fort with an insane amount of pillows in front of the large window in your shared living room.

“My darling little bee -” Ezra watched you from the kitchen, he good shoulder resting against the frame. “What in Kevva’s sake are you doing? I have seen snow before and I do not understand why you are going on about all this.”

“No, Ezra. What you have seen are photos and videos of snow. You have never been in the snow or seen it in person.” You pointed up to him from the fort, setting a seat for him to sit. “There is a big difference. Now come here and sit down. I’m going to get us some hot chocolate.” You bounded up and skittered past him into the kitchen where you had two mugs out already and milk in the pot on the stove. You heard Ezra chuckle and do as he was told, settling himself down into the small tent, easing himself down on his one arm. Outside it was beginning to get dark and flurries started to fall. They were gentle little flakes that caught in the light. You secretly hoped that they would turn into the bigger and fluffier ones. You came back with the two prepared cups and passed Ezra one who immediately took a sip. You swore that man burned away his taste buds or sense of feeling from the black coffee rations up on The Green. He ate the hottest food without even a flinch. He set his mug aside, though, and instead swooped his arm around your shoulders, leaning into you. “My dearest fawn, it looks just like ash from the trees on The Green.” He mused, an eyebrow cocking in his smug ‘I don’t see the reasoning’ way. You sighed, shaking your head and setting your own mug down, drawing a blanket over the both of you.

“You will just have to wait, Ezra. It gets better, trust me.”

“Oh, I do trust you little bird. With my entire being and soul. But how long am i to wait for your spectacular treat, hm? I may die of sheer boredom as you know I a man who must always be entertained.” He was teasing you, now, and you knew it. “I can think of a way to keep us busy.” You turned in his hold and pressed your mouth against his in a chaste kiss, one that he chased once you pulled away, his body leaning heavier into yours. “Is that so, little one? Are you quite so sure you want to spend our time with your gaze settled on my own face instead of the cold skies outside? I wouldn’t want you to miss what you have been looking forward to all day.” Ezra pulled a blanket up and over the both of you, shrouding your heads in a mock veil and putting out the light. The move was intimate yet playful, something Ezra was so very good at balancing. “I am quite sure.” You grinned, though it was hidden in the darkness that Ezra made. You sought out his lips again, missing by a fraction and kissing the space between his upper lip and nose which made him chuckle. He made the correction and slid his mouth up in a lazy kiss. He was the one who parted his mouth open first, his tongue flicking out against yours and it was a delicious warm, wet slide that made you shiver. He was so good at kissing, always had been. The first time he had kissed you was after the loss of his arm, saying it was payment for missing limb. It was since then that you stopped thinking about any other man. You were his.

“Birdie...” Ezra whispered between his kisses, eyes open and wide as lifted the blanket a bit to peek outside. It had gotten darker, the street lamps the only thing lighting the outside now, and your hopes had been granted. Outside the flurries turned into a full out snow storm, the sky filling with huge fluffy flakes of snow. Ezra had stopped kissing you completely, transfixed on the sight before him. “Well, I never in all my life...” “Have seen such a thing?” You finished for him as he removed the blanket from himself. He moved quickly towards the front door and before you could stop him he was outside. You scrambled to follow him, not used to his silence, and you almost thought something was wrong. But there Ezra stood out in the middle of the yard, his face turned up, eyes full of wonder as the snow fell around him. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that he had no shoes, no jacket, nothing but his sweater and a pair of jeans. You slipped on your snow boots and threw on a hat and scarf before joining him outside. “It’s beautiful, birdie.” He whispered his amazement towards the skies. He was beautiful, you thought. Snow caught in his curls, on the tips of his lashes, and on the knit of his sweater. You reached out to him, your fingers lacing into his and he pulled you closer, eyes still to the skies. You tucked yourself into him, feeling the cold start to seep through your clothes and Ezra provided a little relief. You would spend hours out here with him, though, if only to see the look on his face as it was now.

This was done by @middimidoris for this fic. She has such lovely work and I adored how this turned out!

#THIS WASN'T SUPPOSE TO BE THIS LONG #IT WAS LITERALLY SUPPOSE TO BE A SHORT HEADCANON #WHOOPS.#I blame the snowstorm we got here up in Wisco #but i aint mad #seriously come throw more prompts at me i love writing this man #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #headcanons #ficlet

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dragonsaregenderless · 3 years

Text

QUEERPLATONIC

definition: a relationship that is not romantic or sexual but not quite platonic either. a queerplatonic relationship (or qpr) can include aspects of any of those three relationships, but does not have to.

“Roommate Wanted” said the flyers Mack’s mother had made them put up. It wasn’t even a true statement: Mack didn’t want a roommate. If they’d grown apart from their high school friends, it was because they were swamped with work. They weren’t socially isolated.

They put up the flyers along their favourite path in the park. It was off trail.

~*~*~

“Any news about the roommate?” Their mother asked during their weekly Sunday lunch.

“Not yet.” Not ever.

“That’s unfortunate.”

Mack nodded along with their mom. She looked so genuine that they almost felt bad. Their mother was only trying to help them, and Mack felt something like regret blossom in their stomach. They pushed it down. No one would ever find the flyers.

~*~*~

Someone had found the flyers.

He called Mack on Thursday, during their lunch break. “Hey, is this Mack Aaron?”

They swallowed their bite of burrito. “The one and only.”

“I’m Dmitri Nikolaev,” he said, “Is the roommate still wanted?”

Mack glanced a the time. Ten minutes till they had to get back to work. “It depends.”

~*~*~

Cool Catz Café was a small coffee shop on the corner of Mack’s street. The short distance, amazing espressos, and resident tabby cat meant that Mack spent an ungodly amount of time there. That Friday afternoon, though, they weren’t there to consume caffeine or pet Oliver, they were there to meet Dmitri.

They weren’t sure why they were doing this. It would have been easy to tell him they’d already found a roommate, or just ghost him, but here they were.

They told themselves it was to make their mother happy, and because splitting rent would make it easier to save up for top surgery. It wasn’t because, in the last bit of their conversation, Dmitri had charmed them. Not when they didn’t know him. He could be a serial killer.

Mack scanned the café. An old man sat by the window, across the shop from their corner booth, and a teenage barista fiddled on her phone at the counter. Neither looked like they would notice a murder. Mack really hoped Dmitri wasn’t a serial killer.

The door opened, letting in the cold February air and making the wind chimes that hung above the doorway. Mack looked up to see a man about their age. He had to stoop to pass through the door. Despite his height, he didn’t seem threatening. He was wrapped in winter clothes, a knit beanie on his head and pretty pink scarf over his nose, and his jacket was puffy and dark green. He walked straight over to Mack.

“Hi,” he said, flicking fluffy brown hair out of his eyes. Mack tugged self-consciously on their own tangled black hair. They were wearing an oversized brown sweater and winter boots that they’d had since they were seventeen. “Sorry for the wait, my sister’s dog needed to be taken to the vet.”

Mack blinked. ‘Puppy rescuer’ was exactly what Dmitri looked like.

“You are Mack Aaron, right?” he asked, the beginnings of a worried frown on his face.

They nodded. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you.” He said it like he meant it. He sat down across from Mack and began taking off his coat and many knit things. Under the jacket, he was wearing a fuzzy sweater, and under that a thick long-sleeved shirt. Mack stared. When Dmitri caught them, he smiled sheepishly. “I get cold easily.”

“So, the roommate thing?”

No shit, Sherlock. They chuckled.

~*~*~

Mack called their mother Saturday morning while they were organising their apartment--a once in a blue moon occurrence, special for their new roommate--to tell her they wouldn’t be able to have lunch with her that week.

“Why not, honey?” She sounded worried. “Is it about the roommate? I knew you weren’t too enthusiastic about the idea; we don’t have to do it.”

“It is about the roommate,” they started, “but not like that. They’re moving in tomorrow.”

“Oh,” their mom said, then brightened. “Oh! That’s lovely.”

They thought about Dmitri’s puppy rescuing and the way he acted like spending time with Mack was nice, not an awkward charity. They smiled. “Yeah. I think it is.”

~*~*~

The second bedroom was empty by the time Dmitri’s pickup rolled up on Sunday. Mack helped bring his boxes upstairs, and together the two set up his bed.

When it was done, Mack went to make something to eat (neither of them had eaten since lunch). They tried to look at the apartment through Dmitri’s eyes.

Even cleaner than ever, Mack collected enough knick-knacks that it was cluttered. The kitchen was more like a hallway with old, half-broken appliances, and the living and dining rooms were one and the same, the table on one side and the the couch and TV on the other. A balcony came off the living room side, but right now it was covered in snow.

Dmitri came into the kitchen. “Do you have anything I can use to hang this up?” he held up and ace flag.

Mack nodded and pulled open a drawer. No house was truly a home unless there was a drawer of miscellaneous crap in the kitchen. “Here you go.” they handed him a pack of thumbtacks. Dmitri looked uncertain. “It’s cool, the walls here are shit anyway.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, but didn’t move to go hang it up.

Mack tipped their head to one side. Dmitri’s shoulders were hunched and they were biting their lip. “Are you… Are you out to anyone yet?”

Dmitri shook his head, hands clenched in the material of his flag.

“I’m an arospec genderfluid pansexual.”

He looked up.

Mack ran a hand through their hair; it got stuck on the way down. They yanked. “Fuck.” They smiled awkwardly at Dmitri. “What I’m failing to say is, it’s cool. You being ace doesn’t affect me at all, but if you need anything you can ask. Do you want help hanging up the flag?”

“Yes please,” he whispered.

“Let’s go, then.” Mack took the thumbtacks and started toward Dmitri’s room. They stopped by the entrance to the hallway and turned around. “By the way? That was a much better coming out than mine was.”

He laughed.

~*~*~

Over the next few weeks, Dmitri became part of Mack’s routine.

It was established that Dmitri made breakfast, because he woke up early for med school (the fact that was still in university was something Mack would never stop teasing him about).

It was established that when Mack went to get coffee at Cool Catz, they brought Dmitri a chocolate croissant, and that if they got off work early they took the subway to meet Dmitri when his classes were over. Mack showed him all their favourite Netflix shows, and Dmitri got them to read Percy Jackson (which was amazing). Mack left a few pamphlet about the asexual spectrum and the LGBT+ community on Dmitri’s bed, and he came with them to the weekly LGBT+ meetings they ran at the community center.

It was established that Dmitri’s favourite blanket was the fluffy pink one Mack had gotten for Hanukah, and Mack replaced the old, brown sweater with a green one of Dmitri’s. Mack was allowed to turn the heat as far down as they wanted as long as Dmitri was allowed to steal their warmth through cuddles.

It was established that Dmitri was the most important person in Mack life, and Mack in Dmitri’s.

It was established that having a roommate was not as bad as Mack had originally thought.

#it isn't a novel but i hope you still like it #qpr #qpp #aromantic #asexual #aspec #queerplatonic #quasiplatonic #quirkyplatonic #blayze writes

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