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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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Gold Rush

pronouns: she/her warnings: angst, mentions & depictions of alcoholism, car crash, fluff summary: Aegon didn’t like most people but he liked you until it tore him from the inside out. You’re perfect, his gold and shimmering light. The problem? He’s not perfect. He’s not even a third of what you will one day amount to and everybody knows it…even him. verrryyy loosely based on Gold Rush by Taylor Swift. dividers: firefly-graphic wordcount: 4,039 A/N: i hope my favourite aegon girlie @adelusionalwriter enjoys!

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Aegon’s eyes sparkle as they watch your figure embrace his mother. His suit is uncomfortably tight and he doesn’t understand why the collar is pointy but a sly grin spreads up his face at the sight of his sunshine…at the sight of you. His perfect golden girl, the one who lights the remaining warmth of his heart and strengthens his overworked jaw until he’s turned into a bumbling mess. His mother would argue that that is his natural state but even she can’t ignore the glow you permeate onto him when you are near. Every sunday she slides a porcelain plate, her muscle memory too deep to forget you. It hasn’t even been a year yet, he thinks to himself as his hands hesitate on the flute of champagne beside him. Only seven months by now, he’s sure. Gods, why does it feel like he’s known you all his life? He supposes that’s ridiculous, if he had known you all his life then perhaps he would not have been so miserable in his teen years. His touch lingers on the tall glass then snaps away. The heat of your memory turns into a scalding burn at the temptation. He tucks his hands into his pockets and smiles at you across the room. Your soft features turn up at him like the pour of glitter–smooth and sparkling. You make him feel like summer. As if summoned, the chandelier catches its outstretching beams and it feels as though it has changed nothing because there you are smiling at him. He thinks that you’re the only light he will ever need. You’re as kind as a gleam, reflecting his best qualities into him. He’s still Aegon but people enjoy his company now, seek him out even. His own father comments on it sometimes. That might be the only thing Aegon dislikes about you, how easily you collect the affection of others, faster than he, Aegon himself, ever could, you have garnered the affection of even his father. He wishes sometimes that he could keep you locked up in a little box to preserve forever but that would be selfish and he promised himself that this time would be different. It had to be. He will be good enough for you, he knows it.

So he dismisses the champagne and tentative curling fingers wave at you across the room. Gods, his heart starts thrumming gently again at the sight of your smile. When your feet patter softly in shining shoes, his arms are already outstretched and waiting. A soft giggle slips from your lips like the purest wine–the one that replaces his damnable urges–and your hands glide up his neck to wrap him in an embrace so tight, his breath catches. His eyes flutter like a dandelion loses its seed, alongside the flow of gentle wind; it’s with careful tandem with your own closing lashes. “My sweet girl,” He breathes as his lips dip his head of their own desperate volition. They coax your own so his tongue can sail at the seam of your silken lips. He drinks in your hot breath as if it’s the antidote to all ills and fuck, he thinks he’d be dying without it. He wants to drown in you, he decides, hands pressing so carefully on your hips as he draws you close. Aegon worries that if he presses too hard you will flow away into the air like dust. Your mouth coaxes him into a world beyond his own–instead of cruelty and pain, it is filled with replenishment and golden sunlight. He wants to conquer your lips in that moment or any part that you’ll give him, his brows scrunching in need and fingers rolling the rayon fabric of your dress back and forth between them. It’s not enough to have you in his arms, he wants to commit every part of today into his memory so he can replay it over and over in his mind’s eye until it fries like the computer his sister Rhaenyra fixed for you. He was embarrassed at the time that he couldn’t do it himself but his fears quelled the moment your darling tongue descended on his own.

Panic ebbs at him whenever you look at him like this, when your dilated pupils are so wide they consume him. A rosy blush invades his face; his nose, his cheeks, even his neck and ears are pink. He jumps when a firm hand lands along his back and shakes him out of this fantasy. It’s his brother Aemond giving him a pointed stare. Aegon caves in on himself as quick as a frightened rabbit though he is not so harmless. His blue eyes flicker up at him through shielding eyelashes, anticipating the worst. Instead, Aemond is reaching across to introduce himself to you, having missed the initial family hounding while on a business trip. His face is stoic as always with a straightened back and hair slicked back behind him so unlike Aegon’s messy brush of gilded curls. Unsavoury tastes climb up to his throat before stuffing his cheeks with foul-tasting cotton. “I apologise for our late meeting…” Aemond says, wet tongue gliding the words like prayer through his white teeth. Aegon swallows and looks at the floor. He doesn’t like who he feels like in his brother’s sight. An intruder. A ruiner. A failure. Oh Gods how he wishes for once in his life he could be like you. He wants to be your sunlight as much as you are his forever. But you don’t know this and he would never dream of tainting your sweet gaze for anybody nor any selfish emotions. You won’t be him, you won’t be him. Aegon reminds himself, determined to disrupt all of him if it means keeping you, of being a man you deserve. “I was otherwise engaged and my brother has seemingly ignored the pleasure of my company.” Suddenly a tunnelled light is all that he can see of you, and darkness circles his vision like a deranged tunnel. His fists dig sharp nails into his soft palms. His eyes squeeze shut briefly at the hum of your sweet laugh. A laugh reserved for him. He sucks in an unsteady breath but then your reassuring hand squeezes his bicep just as tightly before releasing with care. Even your hands feel like silk.

Helaena suddenly springs to your side with wide excited eyes and practically begs you to dance, which you eagerly accept even though no one is dancing at all. Aegon watches with a grin rivalling the sun’s bright intensity though he would not think such a comparison would be worthy of him. He’ll keep that reserved for you, for now. Aemond hums from beside him, tapping his fingers against the table. Aegon grinds his teeth. He loves his brother, he loves his brother, he– “A sweet girl, isn’t she?” Aemond asks to which Aegon groans heartily. Normally he’s the one bringing you up at any available opportunity but he knows this isn’t going to be a conversation he likes. Aegon clenches his jaw and remembers what his therapist told him, think of something else…the trees, the sun…her…her smile…her laugh. His lips twitch upward but then the blow comes full force and barrelling. “A shame she’s picked the wrong brother.” Aemond spoke with such vindication before slipping away to engage with another one of their grandsire’s businessmen.

It’s nine weeks later when the panic sets in again, he’s running around a supermarket frantically in search of a birthday card, clutching a (mostly) fresh bouquet of asters and anemone in his grasp. His breathing heavies, sweat collecting on his pale brows and desperately trying to hide his dilated pupils. His hands shake as he thrusts the card at the cashier–he can tell they’re slightly scared as they scan it with flickering wide eyes. “T-Two seventy five.” They inform him and he snatches it with one hand, the other casting coins at her hurriedly. He needs to be out as soon as possible. Aegon sprints faster than he ever did in cross-country and then shoots into his car with a relieved sigh. He checks his phone and smacks a hand over his forehead, groaning. 16:43 pm. He was supposed to be there at three. God damn it why wasn’t he there at three. His heart beats against the concrete wall of his skull. His hand clutch the steering wheel like a lifeline and his foot presses so low on the revs that he’s probably 20 miles past the speed limit. Of course this doesn’t end well, he rushes through a red light. A screeching alerts him first at what’s happening before the weight of a 2010 toyota prius smacks hard into his own car which is sent spinning across the road, hitting another car as it goes. Aegon is sent flying in his drunken haze across the car and burning shards dig through his skin but he doesn’t know what they’re looking for. His ears beat with a deafness he’s never felt, urging his mouth to spew vomit out of his broken window. Aegon’s already throbbing head strikes against the rough tarmac, blood seeping across the mud and dirt that infects his insides. A jagged wedge of glass rummages easily through his pale skin but he doesn’t have it in him to scream as his eyes drop shut. He feels like he hasn’t slept for days…he probably hasn’t as he lets the pain suck him into the dark void.

The flowers and their pathetic petals skid like an empty promise beside him–they infiltrate his nose like a lie.

You don’t like hospitals, you decide, as you try to stop the sobbing that gyrates your body as strong as a vice and as cruel as the wicked world around you. A warm hand is wrapped comfortingly around your waist but it’s awkward because as much as you love Helaena, you don’t want her. You want Aegon. You want your sweet stupid boyfriend who you’re not sure you’re going to ever forgive for making you love him this much. For making you hurt so badly as you sit desperately awaiting a doctor or nurse or someone. You didn’t even know you were his emergency contact until yesterday. Your weary eyes stand red and puffy as you finally settle. You can’t rest–no–you will not. Helaena sighs in relief when Alicent arrives with the coffee and takes her place beside you. The loud footsteps approaching are what snap your head up and send your coffee flying to the floor. A couple opposite you gasp but you ignore them, fixing interrogatory sights on the nurse before you. They lick their lips and you already know they’re hesitant. Their head leans slightly and double checks the papers. “Aegon Targaryen’s fa–?” “Yes.” You say instantaneously, playing with the ring you moved onto your engagement-finger. Aegon hasn’t proposed but you’re not about to let some half-pint tell you you can’t see the love of your life based on a technicality. Your tongue darts to wet your stark lips. “What is it?” For once you don’t have the time to be polite.

Aegon smiles weakly when you jog in, not even exposing his teeth like he’s trained since birth. His voice is drained and devoid of his vibrant heart. It’s quick when you latch your teeth on your lower lip, sucking it to soothe your ever-growing nerves. You hold back from launching yourself at him and instead settle for gently embracing him, tears collecting on that stupid itchy gown they forced upon him, as he says so eloquently. You can barely choke a laugh. Even now, he can’t be serious for too long, you should have expected it. You’re scared to look at him, instead burrowing your face into his smooth neck even though now it’s gash laced and a thick goo seeps from it. Dainty and beaten hands tremble as they try to guide through your hair but you hear the hiss that tears through his teeth. It’s reflexive when you jump away but he whines. “P-please, baby,” He simpers. You want to slap the stupid grin off his face, instead you tuck your hands beneath your chin and reluctantly let him try again but his eyes twitch and squeeze, veins jutting at even this. Your own face crumples at the sight and even more when tears wet his eyes, as overcoming as a tidal wave. “I’m sorry.” He whispers, breath hitches. “I tried, I promise, I-I-” You shake your head, fingers twitching to hold his hand but you force them away. “Sh, sh,” You soothe. “That doesn’t matter right now. I’m here to take care of you, nothing else.” He lets out a whimper and you swear someone has punched your intestines. “It’s not fair to you.” Aegon argues uselessly against himself. “This isn’t fair. If I wasn’t so fucking drunk all the time–” You shush him again but it doesn’t calm him this time, instead it only intensifies his inner guilt and turmoil. “No, stop, I don’t want to be coddled…Please. This isn’t good for you. I’m not good for you.” Your brows knit, your mouth parting but he slides a shaking finger in front of you. “No.” He repeats. “I want you to leave me.” Aegon sniffles now, trying hard not to let the wave win but he’s tired, so exhausted of trying. “I want you to go!” He spits like poison. You reel back as though he had stabbed you. “What? No.” You snap back but the dam has finally broken. “Just go!” “Just talk to me!” You plead, reaching to grasp him but he dodges like a cat in water. “Go.” He grinds out. “Please,” he sniffles again, vulnerability engulfing his tortured tongue. “I want you to spread those beautiful wings of yours.” You shake your head. “You’ve been doing better!” “Not better enough!” “I don’t care; we both knew something would happen and I’m here because I love you, not for what you can give me.” He huffs at the resolute tone flying through his ears at your voice. He refuses to look at you now.

Instead his eyes snap to the door where a familiar face stares back at him with concern embedded in his lone eye. You’ve switched places with him, this time you’re the one desperate for him. Unlikely but in truth , however, you both still move in perfect, infuriating tandem. He’s okay with dying if the cost of living is you remaining trapped in this little bubble of life beside him. He finally decides with the words of others ringing in his head. He can’t keep doing this, he won’t let himself. He can’t keep you if this is what it means. He wants you to fly–no–he wants you to soar, above him, above everybody. Always. His curled hand reaches to brush back your hair but he holds off the begging flinch this time as he rests his forehead against your own. He’s done trying. “I’m sorry.” he whispers to you before kissing your forehead. “I’ve already had you for far too long, as long as I could but I won’t keep doing this to you.” Neither of you care as chalked and decaying blood snaps from his wounds onto you. Selfish. Aegon Targaryen has always been selfish. That’s what he’s sure they will one day sear on his tombstone once his miserable life comes to an end. You’ll be there too, he knows it. His eyes lock on the flowered vase behind your head and which rests like a threat on the window sill. Begonias, he almost laughs aloud at the irony of it all.

When you leave, he expects to see that familiar smirk on his brother’s face but instead the expression is tight and not even a hint of guilty glee threads through his lips.

Your eyes glimmer when you embrace Alicent as tight as possible without cutting off her circulation. It’s been a month and four days and you still wake up with the sick feeling in your stomach before work. The dread that tears into your open wound because you can’t bring yourself to close it…not yet, it’s too soon. Instead you accept the sweet advances of your ex-boyfriend’s family. You move into Helaena’s apartment with her, you befriend her roommate and cousin, Baela. You start tutoring Daeron on the weekends. You even agree to meet Baela’s friends and go to the parties her girlfriend arranges every Friday. They mean well and so you agree. You want to feel better, you swear you do but everyone sees the look on your face when someone says his name. Part of you worries sometimes that he was a figment of your imagination at the sheer concern they express but you're moving on, you promise. Or at least trying to. It doesn’t feel enough because as always, you’re all or nothing. He liked that. Fuck, no. He doesn’t exist, just tell yourself he doesn’t exist. You take a deep breath and step out of the bathroom and into the blaring loud hallway. You jump when your head makes contact with a hard figure who struggles to keep liquid in his scarlet cup. The masculine voice chuckles and when you meet eyes, you remember why you came and give him a tight-lipped smile. “You enjoying the party?” CCregan Stark asks–the kind stoic boy in one of your uni classes. You lick your lips while taking in his dark curly hair and stubble, he brushes it out of his face awkwardly. You’ve replayed the story in your head a million times; his barber thought he said jaw instead of chin somehow so now it’s cut just a bit too short to comb behind his ears like he used to and prefers. You smile up at him but as you part your lips, he shakes his head softly. “You’re not, are you?” His playful voice rings in your ear.

Your laugh comes out forced but there all the same and nod reluctantly. “I hate it.” You answer, words spilling like leftover wine. He chuckles again and curses when his hand tilts his cup again. He steadies himself, rising back to his towering height. It almost feels weird that he’s not leaning over you, he’s like the empire state building or something. Your eyes lift up to his steel grey ones but they don’t sparkle like Aegon’s did. They don’t have the same warmth, he doesn’t give you flowers between classes, he doesn’t collapse on you in bed because he needs to know you’re still there, he doesn’t make false promises either though,…He doesn’t beg you to change your own mind about him no matter how many times you tell him you want him. “You okay?” Cregan asks, tongue darting to wet his cracked lips.You briefly recall the lip balm Aegon used to steal off of you at home–no. Not home. Not anymore. You look up at him, barely nodding with a jut of your chin. “Yeah. Perfect.” You let the poison slip over your tongue, the taste too bitter to ingest. It’s okay. So long as other people believe you then it’s alright. Cregan bites his lip and glances behind him then leans down to your ear. “You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.” Your face erupts in crimson embarrassment. He knows, of course he knows. You aren’t deaf to the whispers of class so why should he? “No one’s by the backdoor right now, I’ll pretend I gave you a ride home if you want to tell Baela. She’s worried but you don’t need me to tell you that.” He takes a sip of his cup and reluctantly you let out a suffocating breath.

You wish you could call Helaena. Instead you nod and thank Cregan quietly before sneaking outside and into the cold air but even that feels stale somehow. You feel sick. More sick than you’ve ever felt since seeing him in that stupid hospital bed, that stuffy room clutching you like a child does their barbie. When you finally stumble into your apartment again, it feels as empty as ever. Bare, stripped, motionless. You can almost trick yourself into thinking that it’s a photograph. In your mind you can pretend you’re on the sofa, the one that’s caked in memories and late-night conversations. “You’re so wonderful,” He had said the first time you visited, long before it had become your own. He had pressed soft, warm lips to each of your cold knuckles and grinned at the gentle laughter that poured between your own. You feel dizzy as you let your feet guide you through the door of your painfully new bedroom. You slip onto the covers, feeling too trapped to go beneath them. You don’t like this feeling, this loneliness. You want to feel those comforting arms again without the fear of waking up, of knowing what is awaiting you. It’s not healthy, you know that, but it still hurts.

Three months. You both wake up. You both lose your keys before letting them rattle between either palm. You both feel the dull ache when you turn around to call out a name you want to forget. Aegon swallows the words while you let them out with a mere breath. You both go to uni with a sour face. You’re walking through the lengthy hallway when you hear the collapse of the heaviest binder you’ve ever seen. Your head snaps up, expecting to see a first year or awkward collection of joking friends. Instead your eyes meet familiar watered pools of soft blue. His lips are tugging downward but his hair is styled and his sweater clean. He looks good. He looks like Aeg. You swallow but don’t lose eye contact and neither does he–binder forgotten. Neither of you move at first but then his hand twitches and instead of avoiding you like all the times before, he breaks out into a run and you eagerly meet his pace. His hands reach out, fingers spread and waiting to lock with yours, entangling once they do. They squeeze tight, refusing to let go as you breathe out in mutual relief. It’s been so long. Too long, too far, too much. Blood thumps loudly, hearts connecting. “Oh thank fuck.” Aegon chokes out. His breath stutters and he ruefully pulls away his finger to wrap one along your back and another in your hair. You look up at him, the students around you melting from your vision because nothing matters anymore now that you can see his rosy cheeks again. Your eyes roam his face. “You look good.” You whisper after about half an hour passes with him leaning against the wall with you head lost in his shoulder, your lips just barely ghosting his neck. He smiles but there’s a hardness in his face. Something beneath the irises of his eyes. “I wanted to be good for myself, for you, for my mum.” He says then gently shakes his head. “I didn’t want people to remember me like that, I want you to be happy when you see me.” He bites his lip then sighs. Your brows twitch and your hand carefully cups his face. “I just wanted you.” You respond, voice soft and lips curling. “I just want you to be happy…Are you?” Aegon swallows. “Mostly.” He whispers. His thumb runs over your palm. “I’m getting better but-” He wets his lips. “It’s hard. I’m gonna do it this time though, I promise.” He turns to press a chaste kiss to your palm and smiles. “Aemond’s been visiting.” Your brows shoot up. “Really?” He nods. “And he’s…?” “He’s actually helping.” He chuckles then breaks out into a grin. “Of course mum is, as well. She had to practically chain me down to get me to stop asking about you. Helaena’s sick of my shit by now.” He seems so much warmer now than he was before. He feels like Aeg. “Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “Get this, I make tea now.” His stupid grin is like a beam of gold. “Tea!” Your giggles echo around the large now long-empty hallway.

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multific · 1 year

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Movie Date

Vincent Sinclair x Reader

Summary: Vincent takes you on a date.

He was always working, perfecting the town as their mother envisioned, he was so busy he couldn’t even spend quality time with you for a couple weeks now, the only time he saw you was when he went to bed and you were already there, sleeping.

So, today, he had an idea.

As soon as he heard you enter the house you two shared, he was heading up from the basement.

“I’m home, Honey.” you said with a quiet voice, knowing he wasn’t there and even if he heard you he would be more focused on his work.

But then you heard the footsteps.

“Oh,” you turned and found him standing there, a wax rose in his hand. “Thank you, Vincent.” you smiled as you took the rose and placed it into the vase on the table, it was really nice.

You looked back at him, finding him standing in the same position as if he had something to say.

“Vincent?” you asked and he didn’t move. “Are you ill, Hon?” he shook his head.

You always found it strange how shy he was still. After all, you two were married now, you told him many many times that you love him and that he didn’t have to worry around you and yet here he was all shy.

He pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to you,

Will you go on a date with me?

You smiled, you wanted to laugh but you were afraid he might misunderstand.

“Of course, where should we go? Bowling? Movies?”

He pointed at the paper and you turned it.

Theatre?

You nodded. “Can I change quickly? I’ll wear something nice for our special date.”

It was his turn to nod and you rushed upstairs to wear something nice.

Not long after you emerged wearing a nice short dress to match the weather and with locked arms you two walked to the theatre.

“I wonder what they are playing today.” you said jokingly to Vincent as he nodded to the options, allowing you to pick.

“We could go for the action movie.”

And with that you made your way inside, seeing all the ‘figures’ around the place you played along as if they were real, you even got some popcorn from the nice man.

The movie was interesting it was one you haven’t seen before, you knew Bo liked to change the movies from time to time, depending on the season or his mood.

But this was a rather nice action movie. And you really did enjoy it.

You failed to notice but Vincent was mainly looking at you, staring actually. He continued to look from you at your hands as he held yours. He couldn’t help but think just how truly lucky he was to have you. You were his everything.

You and this town he and his brother’s built.

You smiled as the movie ended.

“That was really good. Do you want to make out? I don’t think anyone here would mind.” you said but you could tell he didn’t want to, so you just decided to let it go. “I crave some ice cream, can we get some?”

He nodded and you two walked to the store. It was closed but he opened the door for you.

The ice cream machine was new. You craved it one day and Bo had to go and get you one while Lester kept on teasing him that he had a soft spot for you, and it was true all of them did.

Bo and Lester saw you as a sister while Vincent fell in love.

You made your own ice cream before turning to Vincent if he needed one, to your surprise he said yes. You two ate your ice cream as you walked back home, hand in hand.

“I really enjoyed myself, thank you. I know you are busy with your work, but it’s okay really. I know your mother’s vision is important to you, but it is nice to get out from time to time.”

He nodded, completely agreeing with you. When you arrived home, he was ready to just go to bed, you took a shower and changed into your pyjamas.

You headed to bed only to find him sitting against the headboard, his mask on the nightstand.

“Hello there handsome, can I sit?” he tilted his head, not really understanding but then he nodded. You moved to his lap, taking a sit with your crotch right against his. “And now, I’ll talk you nicely for the date, if you let me.” you started to kiss his neck as his hands began to wander.

Yes, Vincent Sinclair knew he was married to a vixen. And he surely loved every second of it.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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hazbinhappy · 24 days

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hii!! I was wondering if you could match me up with someone!! My name is Jamila(its arabic) and im a lesbian she/her hobbies: i sing(soprano),play piano,draw,figure skate,sew,bake, and crochet. Personality: im a very social person!! Im usually nice but i can be somewhat bratty sometimes(as in if we dont do what i wanna i kinda shut down),i can be bitchy sometimes but thats usually when im overstimulated or about to have a meltdown(im autistic), im also really hyper!! My love language is physical touch(im a very clingy person usually. I do have kinda bad communication skills bc of how i was raised so i usually start crying when im mad or sad abt something. I apologize alot sometimes. Im mentally ill(idk if i should mention that😭) abt me!!: I have a cool scar on my hand(it covers the side w the thumb on it) from a 2nd degree burn. I have a few more scars all over! My favorite colors are pink and red. Im mexican!!! I LOVE musicals(especially mean girla and heathers). My favorite actor is Avantika,winona ryder or renee rapp. My style is mcbling(fav color combo for outfits is black and pink) i love shoping. My parents own a restaurant so im usually hanging around there and bake things! I live in Miami(basically live at the beach tbh) i LOVE juicy coutore i own lots of vintage juicy and vintage Victoria secret pink things! Im a cat person! Im a picky eater(😭) and i have insomnia (its horrible.) IM TERRIFIED of bugs and i LOVE flowers i hope this was enough info abt me..😖. My demon has pink hair (like verosika),pale white skin(basically fur shes a bunny),she has bruise marks and cut marks in pink on her fur (kinda like birth marks for hell?) because when she died she was beaten to death. She has bunny ears that are usually flopped down and a bunny tail:3 she wears a red leather mini skirt w a red tank top that has lace on it. She wears juicy coutore jewlery and has red thigh highs w black boots(therye platform)

i hope that was enough info!!! Have a good day thank you:))

Your Matchup is....

Velvette!

I think this one was obvious, but still :D

I think that initially she’d own your soul as a fashion designer, but over time you guys forget that she owns your soul

She likes that you have multiple hobbies because in the beginning that means you would’ve been a content farm for her, but as she started to care for you saw that you have a limit she made a schedule that worked for her and you so that you were comfortable

She doesn’t mind the physical touch even if it’s not really her love language, but don’t touch when she’s mad or busy! She is sensitive to that kind of thing so just ask first and you’re in the clear!

Her love language is quality time so spend time with her as she talks shit and she’ll be all smiles

Velvette is like the 2nd bitch out of the V’s so don’t worry about that (though you seem sweet so it balances out a bit)

You’d be surprised that the V’s have pretty decent communication skills (look at the media empire they run in all of Hell) so if yours is bad she’d either ask for clarification so just try to figure it out on her own (not in a bad way, but more so in a time efficiency way)

Crying when mad or sad is just a stress reliever! I don’t think she’d make fun of people for crying, but she usually doesn’t care unless it is you crying because she’s with you not the those other people

Why shop when she can poof it up or have someone make it? Jk she’d also love to shop with you and show off her designs in stores too, but if it’s like trinket shopping she wouldn’t mind as well

She wouldn’t mind having a cat… just keep it out of her studio.

Velvette is probably a picky eater too so don’t worry y’all are there together

Velvette has a shit sleep schedule due to managing their social media and apps and designing so she’s happy to have another person be up with her

Sadly nice flowers aren’t in hell, but hey she can make flowers out of fabric!

“Velv…? You up?” You open your eyes to see Velvette laying on her back, her own eyes closed.

“Yeah, Sweetie… Can’t sleep?” She lets out a deep breath before turning to you.

“No… Wanna cuddle?”

“Yeah, I’ll hold you for a bit.”

She pulls you closer and you guys curl around each other.

“You’re tense. Wanna talk about your day?”

“Fuck yes. Tell me why this bitch Vox wants to be all modern and shit, doesn’t understand the fact that not everything can have a 1950s filter or theme to it? Have you seen his posters in the lobby? Horrendous! I’m so close to burning them.”

A/N: twinnn where have you been jk jk but i’m cuban and i grew up/visit florida a lot i miss it so much :( i also crochet :)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hotel matchups #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette

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harbingerwife · 7 hours

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hi almandine ! i hope ur having a wonderful day ; are u taking breaks and eating well ? idk if the semesters are as long as they are for me bc i know we live in different places, but i wish u so much good luck for ur studies as the end of the academic year approaches 🫶 i wanted to ask, what kind of person is leon? what does he do, whats the world he lives in like, and how do u see him thru ur eyes? my only exposure to him is through .. online mods and gifs ive seen of him go viral, u probably know the ones LOL, but i wanted to learn abt him from u if thats okay 🫶 (@dmclr)

Our semester has pretty much come to its conclusion — my first final is in…. 18 days? Just a little over two weeks, which is a terrifying thought. I’ve been trying to see to my needs and give myself a break and here though! <3 I just hope you’ve been taking care of yourself the same way? Please don’t let yourself drown in academic or other stressors, and know that with as strong as you are, you can overcome anything.

The online mods…. Yeah, I’ve. seen a couple. They’re, something certainly. (My reaction to that information v)

What does he do? Well, he was a cop— just started his job, actually (like one day? literally one day? It was the first day?), but then pretty much got hired by The President and got employment as a government agent for the United States. Fun.

The Resident Evil world is… interesting? Kind of like if, “fuck around and find out” and, “instead of asking if you can, ask if you should” combined. There’s biological weapons running rampant, including dogs, literal zombies (but we don’t call them zombies, no), and uh…. Huge grey men?

Say hi to him. He will not die. You cannot kill him. You cannot kill anything in this stupid universe actually. My favourite Resident Evil game, Resident Evil 7 (which… ironically doesn’t have Leon in it) literally features this one stupid fucking Southern family (whom I love so sweetly) and the father, Jack Baker, just will. Not. Die. You know how in games you get to experience different boss battles? Yes, well, I don’t remember how many boss battles are in RE7, but I will tell you this: 3 of them belong to Mr. Baker ENTIRELY. He just mutates worse and worse and you keep thinking he is dead but he is NOT. You kill his wife and she dies but no, he just won’t fucking die. And then you buy the DLC and you play as the big, strong, veteran uncle who just PUNCHES THINGS INSTEAD OF USING WEAPONS AND IT SOMEHOW FUCKING WORKS and guess who the big bad is! You’ll never guess! You’ll never figure it out! That’s right! It’s Jack Fucking Baker for the fourth god damn time and now he looks even more disgusting and corrupted. Although the game did not include Leon (it held Ethan Winters, a darling father), it’s still set in the same universe so I feel like you can get a pretty good… idea from all of that, yes? Remember ! Nothing. Dies. If you think it’s dead, it is not, it is simply now More aware of your existence.

Now, onto the actual man himself.

First of all? Not related to my view on him but he’s was… kind of misogyny-coded in the original Resident Evil 4 and that makes me giggle a little but I still somehow prefer that RE4 to the 2023 Remake. I know I reblog gifs of the remake a lot and that is simply because, I mean, who doesn’t enjoy experiencing their silly guy with better graphic quality, right? But I don’t like the alterations they did to certain scents and dialogues. Also he looked like this in the original re4 which scares me more than the undying mutated abominations so, I. Well.

(^ NOT RELATED TO THE MISOGYNY HE WAS SUFFERING FROM DISEASE HE WAS ILL)

Okay, okay, anyway…. I HATE how the fandom views him, it stresses me out. They view him as this demanding, super serious, violent, brooding man who just wants a stupid, ditzy, useless girlfriend he can dominate, control and be a creep towards but that’s… not him? Like, how do you mess up so bad. This isn’t a particular part of the fandom as much almost the majority of it, sadly.

I feel like he’d, if anything, be a “wife guy”; he has a stressful job, he is traumatised beyond belief, he looks death in the eyes on a regular basis, he lost his parents when he was young, he has went through a-lot. And yet he’s so gentle, he still believes in saving everyone. He still believes in humanity and has this hope in him. He is still… soft. I don’t think he’d be a controlling or aggressive partner; I think he just wants something comforting to come back to, and he’d be SO grateful to have a partner who sticks by him through thick or thin, he’d be so genuinely giddy while taking about them. He lost his parents for fuck’s sake and got stuck in this godforsaken infected world when he was just 21… he wants home, I think more than anything he wants to come back to a place where he doesn’t have to think, where things can be handled for him and all he has to do is let himself be loved. Praised and acknowledged for once in his (somewhat miserable, let’s be honest) life. I mentioned, while answering Lucy’s ask, that I view him as a guard dog, and I think that’s perfect for him. He exists to protect — he has dedicated himself to that protection, to offering that canopy. His aggression is never on the offence, it has never been; not once, but it is done as a protective measure. If the years have reduced Ajax to a sword then they have reduced Leon to a shield. He just wants his efforts acknowledged — he just wants praise and warmth and comfort — and yet are they ever? At-least, to the degree they deserve? He falls into a depressive state in Resident Evil: Vendetta and it stings. He is such a simple man and I genuinely believe domesticity could fix him. He has never known what it’s like to feel safe — why would anyone want to force him to be a protector even in his partnership, even in intimacy? Let him relax for fuck’s sake. Let him. know what it’s like to be on the other end for once in his life. Comfortable clothes, hand holding on a warm cup of tea rather than a gun or a knife. No news channels and no social media or nothing. Phone on DND. I do not care if the USA burns to the ground, I want him to rest his head on my shoulder and finally get the sleep he hasn’t had in years. Civilian lives can wait a few hours to be saved.

#do you understand how fucking much I hate the fandom. get your hands OFF him #🍷#🫀🐕

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almostnoisydonut · 2 years

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𝓕𝓲𝓽𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓚𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭

Boosting your community’s health and fitness can be challenging, especially since many Indonesian do not get their physician-recommended amount of exercise. Inactivity and nutritional imbalances can lead to an unhealthy population with chronic illnesses and excess stress. While all communities are different, there are a few ways to improve public health in your community.

An unhealthy population strains the community’s health organizations and reduces their overall quality of life. Community health should be a priority, but it can be challenging to figure out how to improve it. Learning how to promote physical activity in the community is a crucial part of promoting public health.

While your fitness pursuits can certainly be a solo affair, there’s one aspect that can be a determining factor when it comes to the consistency with which you move your body, and the longevity of your endeavors: finding a sense of community.

Beyond fitness goals, community allows us to find a sense of belonging. It’s what can support us through some difficult moments — in or out of the gym — help inject a sense of fun in our day, and remind us of something essential: we’re all in this together.

Staying active as we age can be difficult. The 2021 Senior Report from the United Health Foundation found that 31% of adults ages 65 and older in fair or better health were physically inactive. Only 23.1% of adults ages 65 and older met the federal physical activity guidelines.

This is a concern because regular exercise helps keep us healthy as we age.

Regular exercise in adults can reduce the risk of several health outcomes, such as cardiovascular disease, cancer, obesity and the development of diabetes. In addition, the CDC has reported that the loss of strength and stamina attributed to aging is in part caused by reduced physical activity.

There is good news, however. The number of active older adults in Indonesia is rising and social support from friends and family has been consistently linked to regular physical activity.

The Office of Disease Prevention and Health Promotion (ODPHP) recommends older adults aim for 150 minutes a week of moderate-intensity aerobic activity. This type of activity includes walking, dancing and swimming. In addition, the ODHP recommends older adults do balance exercises — think yoga or pilates — and muscle-strengthening activities at least two days a week.

If older adults cannot do 150 minutes of moderate-intensity aerobic activity a week because of chronic conditions, they should be as physically active as their abilities and conditions allow.

Some of the benefits of daily physical activity, as outlined by the ODHP, include:

Lowers your risk of heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes and some types of cancer

Improves your strength and balance so you can prevent injuries and falls

Improves your mood and reduces symptoms of anxiety and depression

Improves your ability to think, learn and make decisions

All these benefits help older adults maintain the ability to live independently.

Being part of a retirement community comes with many health benefits.

Know yourself — and make sure you’re joining the right group

Follow your intuition and pay attention to physical, mental, and emotional markers. If you experience burnout or injury, talk to your coach about making adjustments to your workouts and possibly taking time off to recuperate. Your community will encourage your modifications, and if you choose to take a break, it’ll always be there for you when you’re ready and feeling well.

It also might be worth considering whether your fitness group is still the right place for you: Like all relationships, community ties sometimes fray. There is no shame in seeking out a new group that suits your goals and preferences.

At their best, fitness communities aren’t even about physical accomplishments: be the best version of who you are. And pass that on to everyone around you — to help others be No. 1 in their daily walk.

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mymultifandomhell · 3 years

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Loki (2021) - Episode 2/6

#loki spoilers #one day ill figure out how to make good quality gifs :(#loki #spoilers #marvel #agent mobius #tom hiddleston #owen wilson #loki episode set #me #content #mygifs #edit #gif #gif set #queue #queued post

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kazuwhora · 3 years

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RELATIONSHIPS — TOKYOREV

ft. mikey, draken, kazutora, ran, rindou, & sanzu

cw: fluff, mention of kinks and desires, mental illness, alcohol and drug use. minors/ageless blogs DNI

an. soft! headcanons abt some of my fave tr boys :) these are kinda long, but why not provide some hearty content for my first post on this blog!

MIKEY

- mikey isn't the best at expressing how much he cares for you w/ words. his love language is 100% quality time and physical touch. he will show up at your house at midnight without notice bc he "was bored" and will overextend his stay "just cause" (but rly its because he loves you and cant get enough of you)

- when he's around his work environment or anything gang related he'll get a little uncomfortable with physical touch because he's afraid of letting people see his vulnerability. he'll keep you close and safe, but place the responsibility of your safety with someone he trusts like mitsuya, or chifuyu (sanzu in the bonten timeline but he can get a little unsure with sanzu's unpredictable and possessive nature).

- mikey is hard to read and has a hard time reading you. like, this man does not understand why you get frustrated with him so often and he seems so so so cold. it takes you tearing up out of frustration for him to get it. then he'll feel rly rly bad and will shower you with offers and attention to try and win you over.

- major mommy issues. a big part of him seeks parental affection and care from you that he never truly got as a child. sub behaviour with a mommy kink. he wants to be praised, taken care of, coddled, and doted on in private. he's basically playing a long ass game of catch-up on emotions and needs that he never experienced as a child and teenager.

- wont show it right off the bat but mikey is extremely possessive of you with his subordinates but tries really really hard not to show that weakness by being almost too friendly and laid back to those that he trusts to be around you.

- if y'all are out and about he will pat you on the head or the lower back when he has to go but in private he's the one that demands all the pats.

- when he's not in a work environment, he's the biggest baby (and a little immature). he wants you to baby him, demands attention, whines and pouts when you aren't paying attention to him, and always needs to be touching you.

DRAKEN

- draken is THE KING of making you feel important and loved without smothering you

- he's a perfect example of a calm and collected introvert who knows what he wants and how to express those wants

- he's gonna be completely straightforward with his expectations and wont skirt around his feelings

- but because of this he's also super blunt and will miss hints and clues you might throw his way. you gotta be completely straightforward with him or he's not gonna understand (unless its sexual then he's all about the teasing and hinting)

- he gets REALLY frustrated whenever you're frustrated and has a hard time navigating through those situations because he just doesn't get why you can't say what you mean???? he can get kinda mean here but he doesn't mean it he just wants to help you and can't figure out how

- once you work things out he's an absolute sweetheart and wants to make sure you know he was never mad at you- he was just frustrated he couldn't figure out how to help. don't expect an apology in words though- but do expect an uptick in acts of service

- he LOVES to spoil you. whatever you want, you've got it. he treats you like an absolute princess and has you sitting on a massive throne in his mind.

- did you say you liked fluffy blankets because they help you fall asleep faster? expect him to show up at your place the next day with 3 different blankets because he "didn't know which one you'd like the best" so he just got them all

- his love language is a pretty even split between them all.

- he isn't really all that possessive of you- he's got a good handle on jealousy and trusts you completely. that being said, don't expect him to ever let you get close to any gang activity he may be involved in. he wants you to stay as far away from that environment as possible no matter how much he trusts you or how capable you are of keeping yourself safe.

- Dom dom dom dom. SERVICE DOM. Wants to shower you with special treatment and likes the excitement of a brat- but if you push him too far all the service leaves and you're left with a v mean dom >:)

KAZUTORA

- kaz is so so so sweet to you. like, UNBELIEVABLY sweet. he wants nothing more than to please you, besides his desire for you to love him unconditionally.

- he has a lot of trauma which he hasn't fully healed from yet. while he's straightened himself out quite a bit from when he was a teenager, he's still got some deep emotional issues that can emerge in your relationship from time to time.

- good thing is, since being showed forgiveness and care from his friends, he is able to recognize that above all, he just wants you to love him and will do whatever it takes to make things right so you can love him with no hesitations.

- like mikey, he's clingy. he needs physical touch to know your emotions. he has a really hard time with texting or long periods of not getting to see each other because he finds his emotions get the best of him when he's not able to be directly in your presence to decipher your tone and emotions.

- basically, expect him to be attached at your hip all the time. he isn't as annoyingly clingy as mikey is, however, partly because he's more comfortable being in public with you so the overall time that he has to be clingy is much more than mikey has. in public, he will always want to hold your hand or link arms, and likes to rest his head on your shoulder when you sit side by side on the train.

- fights are heated tho. if you can't handle emotionally charged arguments you wont do well here. he is intense. he will yell, lose control, find whatever words he can to hurt you. he would never physically harm you of course, but since most of your fights will be driven by his jealousy and insecurity, his aim is to find whatever he can to shoot at you to illicit some kind of reaction. ignoring him is best, leaving him completely alone and separated from your emotional responses that he's so good at sensing.

- eventually he'll be able to calm down, but instead of jealousy he'll be filled with extreme remorse followed by denial. he will definitely gaslight you, so you have to be smart enough to work around it. it's something that he's working on, and he knows he's not perfect but he wants to try for you.

- sub this man is a sub. like mikey, he wants you to take care of him. he definitely likes to be tied up, blindfolded, he likes wax play, but pls don't hurt him :( he's v sensitive and doesn't like any type of severe pain. just make him feel good and give him lots of praises <3

RAN

- oh boy. he's hard for you to decipher. part of you feels like the ran you know is a complete persona, because he's just. so. perfect???

- he hides most of his life from you, not out of a sense of protection, but because he probably feels like you aren't much use to him in his work life, so why involve you in the first place?

- you're aware of his lifestyle, but recognizing his desire to keep it away from you, you're happy to pretend it doesn't exist. this creates a weird sort of aura when he comes home with blood and dirt on his clothes, or can't go to a certain part of town where there is an unusual amount of police presence, but he'll just give you a dopey smile that melts your heart and makes you forget all about the awkward aura.

- he knows you know what he is, but he just wants to play life with you. he wants to treat you to expensive and fancy experiences, material items, luxury accessories, clothes and cars, he wants you to live as if you were his sugar baby. his little prized possession. because of this desire, he is a massive hopeless romantic.

- definitely one to leave rose petals on your bed, a hot bath, candles all around the house, he'll massage your back with no expectations of you whatsoever. you'll probably start to feel bad about being pampered so much without returning any favours to him- but when you try to give him something, anything to make him feel good, he'll push you away and tell you to "just enjoy this".

- showers you with "i love you" all day. he wants you to know that you fill his heart and mind because he knows that you've caught on to the double life he likes to live when he's away from you.

- as much as he loves you he knows he's one to let other girls faun over him. at bonten meetings or outings, he'll have girls that mean nothing to him hooked on his arms to fill the space that is where he wants you to be. they'll kiss his neck, and he'll indulge himself in it imagining it was you he was showing off around his friends and other members. these are the times when a sharp gaze from rindou (who definitely knows about you two since he's the only person ran trusts with the knowledge of your existence) will snap him out of his daydreams. he'll never be rude, but he'll shrug the girls off, attempting to hook them onto the arms of sanzu or kokonoi who will gladly take them.

- ran will come back home smelling strongly of whiskey and rum. he'll slip into the bed with you, braiding your hair in his fingers holding the strands to his nose. the smell of your hair reminds him of what he wants, and who he is because frankly, he has a hard time figuring out what his real personality is.

- he's a switch. he really just wants to make you happy. if you prefer someone dominant, he'll be that person for you. if you prefer someone submissive, he'll be that. he's pretty open to kinks, and nothing is really off limits for him. again, he gets his pleasure out of knowing that he provides something for you.

RINDOU

- unlike his brother, rindou is very open in his life about your relationship. he likes to bring you everywhere, showing you off and doting on you. he wants everyone to know you belong to him, and even more he wants everyone to know how well you treat him.

- he's pretty cocky when it comes to showing you off. there isn't a time when he wont somehow rope your name into conversation. ppl get a little annoyed with it but he doesn't care. he's so proud of you he just likes to boast abt it

- he wants to bring you to all the fancy parties and outings, even if he knows it could be dangerous. he trusts his ability to protect both you and himself, and he also trusts your ability to handle yourself.

- you will definitely be the couple at the party that had a few too many tequila shots. you're sitting on a table, holding onto the post of the booth to keep yourself upright, and rindou will be hunched over the table, hands on your thighs gazing at you with lust.

- ran will have to intervene, giving his brother a kick to his feet reminding him that he is indeed, in public, and that he is indeed, creating a little bit of a scene. rindou will clear his throat, sit down on the bench, and pull you into his lap yelling something in your ear about getting more drinks for everyone.

- dating rindou is coming back home at 5am, drunk off your asses, and falling asleep together on the couch with his fingers entangled in your hair and the other hand finding comfort on your thigh.

- rindou is a soft dom and a brat tamer. he likes rope play, and loves seeing you tied up and begging for him. if you like degradation, he'll give it. his favourite is dumbification. he loves seeing how useless he can make you, and loves to tease you about it while you beg for more.

- aftercare king. thats all.

SANZU

- YIKES. listen. we love sanzu, but we also can't deny this man is TOXIC. he wants you to get high with him, then gets mad that you're taking drugs. like ?? sir ?? you asked for this ??

- super possessive. he will absolutely not let you out of his sight. his possessiveness can be a problem, as a slight misstep can result in pretty intense consequences. think week long fights, threats that he may or may not go through with, and spiteful words and actions. sanzu will absolutely accuse you of cheating on him, then turn around and find one of bonten's girls to kiss right in front of you- eyes open and trained on your response the whole time.

- is he toxic? yeah. is he hot as fuck? also yeah. sometimes the hell that he puts you through pays off when he goes through a phase of calmness. you often wonder if he has a personality or mood disorder, because when he's calm like this it's like he doesn't even remember how he treated you before.

- suddenly he's all over you. you're the best thing that could happen to him. he's texting and calling you at all hours of the day, he's showing up at your house with your favourite food, showering you with compliments, and begging to bring you out and show you off

- he doesn't particularly take well to criticism from you because to sanzu, it feels like an attack. he knows he has problems, and he knows that he wants to be better for you, but he finds it so so hard to maintain some sense of morality when he gets out of control. he wont give up any drugs for you, he wont change his lifestyle, but he will try his absolute best to get better at controlling his impulsive reactions between you.

- you'll notice him pause when he starts to get heated, and instead of letting loose completely, he'll turn around and take a few deep breaths.

- sanzu will definitely try to hide those breaths from you though because as much as he wants to control himself in the argument, he also doesn't want you to feel like you've won because he's calmed down.

- eventually he'll get there though. he'll remind himself that all he will accomplish is pushing you away, and losing you is the last thing he would ever want.

- ngl a big part of why you stay with sanzu is not his will to improve for you, but moreso how he treats you in bed.

- this man is a monster. he's wild. massive masochist, and will absolutely be delighted to let you take your frustrations with his behaviour out on his body. just don't expect it to be one sided, because as much as he loves to experience the pain, he'll also want to inflict that same level of torture on you.

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voxmortuus · 3 years

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Herding The Calf

PAIRING: Hannibal Lecter x F!Reader

UNIVERSE: Hannibal (NBC)

WORDS: 1.1k

WARNING: Sorry if this is a little fast-paced and choppy. I feel like my writing is shit today!

SUMMARY/PROMPT: From a lovely Anon: may I ask for a hannibalxreader? id like Hannibal to try to kidnap reader after stalking them for months (as he is interested in the reader and wants to get closer to them, but the only way he thinks he can make the reader care for him is to make them rely on him for all support, therefore he holds them hostage) but the reader is a good fighter and ends up hurting him pretty good, though he eventually knocks them out and the reader is held hostage in his basement and isn't necessarily afraid, just more aggravated because they're bored and want to do something and every time he visits them they ask for stuff to ease their boredom and what have you I want you to take artistic liberty over this as it is pretty much a summary prompt, just have fun if you write this lol have a nice day!

TW: Language | Mentions of Violence | Hostage | Kidnapping | Stockholm Syndrome

IMAGE CREDIT: Google

My Masterlist | Taglist | REQUESTS ARE ALWAYS OPEN

A mess of monkeys was pounding on a steel door with ball-peen hammers. Neon lights flashed on and off fast enough to send any epileptic into a seizure. Looking around, you let out a slight moan. The last thing you remember was getting ready to leave Hannibal's house before your face met the floor. Rubbing your head, you look around.

"You have got to be fuckin' kidding me?" You mutter. Taking in your surroundings, you see a toilet with a privacy wall, a bed that of which you woke up on, a sink, and a stand-up shower... and that's it. "He just couldn't take the hint." You shake your head. You try screaming, but nothing was coming of it. Chances are, this basement was soundproof. You try to walk around but, there is no luck whatsoever; here is a glass wall separating you from the rest of the basement. "GOD DAMN IT! HANNIBAL! WHAT THE FUCK?!" you yell. Frustrated.

He makes his way downstairs and takes a seat in front of your... cell. He sits down, looking at you, wiping his lip from the blood you had caused, clocking him a good one in the jaw. "You're a good fighter, Y/N, you got me good, may have even fractured a few ribs... but, you lost, I'm afraid. I wish you would have just listened, given it a chance." He stated.

"Well, Hannibal, you screwed the pooch on that one now, didn't ya? Couldn't you just take the hint? I wasn't interested. You stalked me! For MONTHS! Yet you always managed to have a god damn alibi when I tried to get the police involved. You need help Hannibal." You told him. Looking over his face, rather proud of yourself. Though you thought a moment, you wanted your money back on those damn self-defense classes.

Hannibal wanted you to need him, to rely on him. This was the only other option. When you left his care, he was insistent that you needed to stay, but you felt like you didn't need him anymore, you were feeling better, you felt like you had accomplished in your mental strength. That, and he was getting far too involved; hence you started putting more distance.

Looking at him, you rubbed your face shaking your head. "Hannibal, just let me go. I won't get the police involved- just- let me go. Please."

He stands up and looks at you. "I will bring you dinner and something to drink." He walks away.

"DAMN IT!" You bang on the glass, angry, and rightfully so. You begin to pace. There's nothing to do, nothing to read, he took your phone. You sigh; sitting on the bed, you put your head in your hands and close your eyes, trying to figure out ways to get out of this.

Day in and day out, you pace, growing bored, growing more frustrated, growing more aggravated and agitated. Looking at the wall, your back facing the glass wall, you sigh. Hannibal comes downstairs and takes a seat in front of the window wall.

"Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Annoyed, bored, agitated, fuckin Christ Hannibal, a book, art supplies, something. I can't just sit here, pace and sleep. I need substance in my life, and you're not providing that." You state, facing away from him.

"I can give you books. What else?"

"To be let go."

"I will bring you some books. We will discuss some art supplies later."

You've gone through all six books he had brought down to you, Gone With the Wind, Pride and the Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, To Kill A Mocking Bird, Little Women, and Wuthering Heights. Sighing you had lost track of time, your sleep schedule was likely off, and your eating habits were off, you were losing weight, at least you showered, and he had given you a razor, knowing that you wouldn't harm yourself, so at least you could keep up on your shaving. He gave you clean clothes every day. To some, this wasn't so bad, but to you, it was starting to wear on you.

One night Hannibal had decided to sit in the dark you had no idea he was there. You had gone to sleep. Tossing and turning, cold sweats, you start dreaming.

You're stuck in a cage, hanging above a crowd of people, but there's something wrong with these people; they're sick, ill, bleeding from their eyes, noses, and ears. They're trying to get to you, trying to claw at you, not eat you, but they want to kill you. You see Hannibal in the distance, and you start screaming for him. Your voice goes horse. You begin to panic a little more; you're thrashing about in bed. You shoot up and gasp for breath. "HANNIBAL!" you scream.

Standing up, he walks over to the wall looking at you. "Are you okay Y/N?"

"I had the worst dream. People were trying to claw at me, trying to kill me. They were bleeding from their eyes, noses, and ears... I was in a cage, hanging above them, they started to climb the cage, and you were in the distance. I tried calling for you, but I woke up. It was horrifying." You wrap your arms around your knees and look up at him. "Hannibal, please, let me go. Please." You start to cry.

Tilting his head, he looks at you and shakes his head. "I'm afraid I cannot do that." He turns and leaves.

After a few days, he has brought you some high-quality art supplies, canvas, paints, brushes. You had gotten back in touch with your artistic side, and it was honestly a nice feeling. He would come down and watch you, observe you, and you had grown to like his company. Each day you two would talk a little longer, get to know each other a little better. You two would even have art time together and eat dinners together. He kept you in this glass box, and as time went on, you had grown accustomed to it. He had even given you a cat to keep you company. Things were changing in you.

Over time, you had liked the idea of being with him; it was this feeling of calm over you when you saw him. It was like everything was going to be okay. Fleeing wasn't a thought, not so much anymore- at least. He sits there and looks at you. "Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you feeling?"

"Hannibal, I would like to see the outside. Would you accompany me?"

He smiles and looks over your face. Tilting his head, he looks deep into your eyes and unlocks the door, takes your hand, and brings you out back. The sun hits your face you smile. Looking up at him, you smile again. "What a lovely day." you smile. And your wheels start turning surveying the area, but there was this tiny bit that stopped you; if you ran, and he caught you, your next capture, you could be the next meal.

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mrsgiovanna · 3 years

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Irreplaceable (Caesar Zeppeli x Wife! Reader)

An interesting request sent in by a nonnie mouse. in this ficlet, the reader is a ballerina who sustains an injury. My first request for this charming man, I hope you enjoy the read my sweet nonnie.

TW: Mentions of injuries

Word Count: 1.2k

The crowd erupted into an energetic applause once the music stopped, and you had flawlessly executed your 32 fouettes en pointe- the highlight of dancing the role of the sultry black swan Odile. Staring into the sea of faces, they all seemed to blend together- all but one. Spotting the pair of emerald eyes gazing at you with pride, you smiled even wider as you took your bow, acknowledging the praise lavished on you from the enthralled patrons.

Quickly rushing off to do your costume change for the final act of the ballet, your thoughts drifted to your handsome husband and how supportive he was throughout your journey from starting out as part of the corps de ballet and being promoted to soloist and now finally the principal dancer at the prestigious Teatro alla Scala, even moving to Milan for you so you could pursue your dream. It was for this reason that you dedicated every performance to Caesar, and strived to get even better and reach newer heights, both figuratively and literally with your grand jetés.

Giving off a flawless enactment of the fading Odette, you concluded the first performance of Swan Lake for the season with a grace that was unmatched. None was prouder than Caesar, and he always let you know how wonderful you were after each and every performance. In the beginning, you weren’t sure if it was just the overly enthusiastic musings of a playboy, or if he was being genuine. But as love bloomed and matured, you realized that it was just how he displayed his affection. Grand romantic gestures- those formed part of Caesar’s love language, and even though his words and gestures sounded almost too perfect to be true, you had fallen for them entirely.

You wiped off the last remnants of your theatre makeup and scrutinized yourself in the mirror when you saw a familiar figure approaching you.

“Caesar, my love, you’re not allowed to be back here, what if someone catches you?”

“If they catch us, then we give them a show cara, besides, I know everyone here, they wouldn’t mind me coming to fetch my talented wife,” bending to meet your lips, he cups your face and places a soft kiss on your lips, taking your things with him so that you both could leave. Upon arriving home, you saw that Caesar had filled the space with your favorite flowers, numerous scented candles dotted your shared home, creating the perfect sanctuary for you to unwind. You were always very highly strung just before opening night, and you were certain that Caesar may have been on the receiving end of a few ill-conceived remarks and snarky responses.

“Tesoro, this is so beautiful, when did you get the time to do all of this?” you fawned as you walked through your home, eyeing the beautiful atmosphere.

“I have my ways cara, come, relax for a bit, I’ve already taken care of everything. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he coaxed you towards the beautiful footed bath. Getting in, you sighed in contentment, all was right in your world… at that moment you had no idea how much things were destined to change.

Call it a misstep, being out of sync or just a stroke of grave misfortune, you had found yourself writhing in agony at your next rehearsal after your partner misjudged a particularly difficult lift, which sent you tumbling awkwardly towards the floor, landing directly on your delicate ankle, sending a rush of searing pain through your leg, bruises forming simultaneously with the swelling of the injured appendage. A few hours later you were hobbling out of the emergency room of the hospital being supported by a pair of crutches and Caesar.

“I’m sorry cara, here, let me help you,”

“It’s fine, I can walk on my own…” you snapped back, the grimace plastered to your face deepening with each painful step.

“I’m sorry cara, but you’re struggling here, this will be faster,” without waiting for your approval, your charming husband hoisted you up effortlessly and carried you to the car.

“Thanks… I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that, I’m just really disappointed… I worked so hard for the role and now I can’t dance for weeks… What if I’m never the same again?”

“Well cara, you aren’t going to be the same again, you’re going to make your comeback stronger than you were before. Think of this as a break for you to improve yourself… work on other parts of you while your body takes the time to heal itself. Now who are we?” you considered his points for a moment, pondering his last question.

“I understand my love, I guess I’m just angry, it was unnecessary… what do you mean by ‘who are we?’ I don’t get that…”

“What I mean, (y/n) is that we are Zeppelis, and these small setbacks are not nearly enough to drag us down. And by marrying me, you were brought into this family too, so the same rule applies,” reaching over to your side, Caesar grasped your hand and brought it to his lips for a quick kiss, before placing it on his lap and continued to drive you home. When you arrived home, he was so attentive to your needs, even more so than usual- making sure that you were comfortable, fed and as happy as you could be given your situation.

Your healing process was a slow one, and despite Caesar’s best efforts, you were miserable, sinking ever further into your melancholy with each passing day. Your days passed by with you meandering around the garden, doing the exercises recommended to you by your doctors and basking in the sunshine in an attempt to lighten your mood. Caesar tried his best, lavishing you with praise and affirmations of his affection for you. Even while wearing your gloomiest scowl, he was able to say or do something to lift your spirits, even if it was for the briefest of moments.

Sitting in the garden, your bundled form dwarfed by the beautiful wrought iron furniture, hair flowing gently in the breeze, Caesar stared wistfully at you, being reminded of the Pre Raphaelite Proserpine. Wanting to lighten your mood, the thoughtful man sent an array of hamon infused bubbles your way and relished the way you smiled at the multicolored orbs as they wafted along with the breeze. Turning around, you were met with the comforting sight of Caesar walking towards you.

“Buongiorno amore, how are you feeling this morning?”

“Good morning my love, I’m okay, better after that little display, how are you?” you replied with a soft smile.

“Well I’m worried about you…”

“Oh? I’m fine though, no need to worry…”

“You don’t have to pretend for me, cara … I know you’re scared and not being able to return to doing what you love so much… I can see its getting to you…”

“I guess I’m just getting impatient my love… I’m scared that I’m slowly being replaced, that there isn’t going to be a spot for me when I eventually heal…”

“(y/n)- amore, if there’s one thing that you will never have to worry about, it’s being replaceable, you have a special quality that simply cannot be replicated, and you’ll be back at it in no time. You may not notice it, but you are getting better, I can see it… come, let me see that dazzling smile,” you couldn’t help but feel giddy at his flowery words and the charming smile that accompanied it. In that moment, you felt completely at peace with the world, having a newfound confidence, that everything really was going to be alright.

#caesar zeppeli #caesar zeppeli x reader #jjba caesar #caesar x reader #caesar zeppeli x you #caesar zeppeli x y/n #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba x y/n #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba battle tendency #jjba part 2 #jjba fanfic #my writing #jjba fluff #Hurt/comfort

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henqtic · 3 years

Text

"𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘚𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘰𝘥 ”

Summary: Draco making you feel better about your hair insecurities throughout your years at Hogwarts.

Word Count: 3.7k+

A/N-hey well this is the first fic I’ve ever written and I don’t think it’s too good but please leave some feedback I would really appreciate it :) just looking forward to improving, this story includes a black/POC reader I just feel that there’s not a lot of stories that actually include us yk ? Because I don’t think I’m able to just put my hair up in a messy bun and go out lol.//ALSO there's no Voldemort and some of the years/dates will be off but I don’t think that matters much in this story:)

masterlist // taglist form.

“It’s a toner” “for your hair”,she concluded in a way that was almost innocent but didn’t cover up the obvious amusement in her tone. Her box braids were flowing behind her, the two different colors blending together in a way to almost resemble Narcissa Malfoys. It was more of a Draco decision, he went on for months saying how if you got white hair you would look like an honorary Malfoy. Which he was already planning on making you sooner or later.

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“Darling your fascination with these muggle products is getting out of hand. Are you ill? Oh merlin, maybe it’s that muggle flu,”he said as he put a hand on your forehead.

In his defense he was actually worried about you.You owled him with a note that read

Dear Draco,

I think I’ve just found the best bloody gift ever,I was just walking around one of those muggle stores and found i! I don’t want to ruin the surprise but the I just thought of you when I saw it.

love, y/n.

He honestly expected a bag of green apples that you two shared a liking of but never in a million years did he expect you to show up with purple bottle labeled as “Purple Shampoo”.And what hurt most is that he was the first person you thought of when you looked at it.Of course he was the only platinum blonde you had seen with such bright hair, other than Luna Lovegood. But he was still deciding on if he should take offense or not.

“No Draco, I’m perfectly fine” You stated as you stated his hand away like a fly.“I just think that your hair may need a bit of toning to it.” You said as you looked at your boyfriend, he really did look beautiful in the sun.

The way the sun would bounce off of his skin and hair giving him this sort of glow.The way he ever so slightly had his eyes squinted because he could barely see when it was this bright outside.He was really a sight to see.He wore a faint smile that made your stomach erupt with butterflies every time you saw him, even now.

You told him that if he continued to bully Harry on how his glasses made him look like Dumbledore without a beard would come back to him.And of course it did.

You were sitting beside Draco under a tree at his family's manor.The sky had a few clouds but nonetheless it was sunny there were butterflies flying around and variations of colors of flowers all around you.You had helped Narcissa plant some of the flowers and it was nice to see how it all came out.

“I think my hair looks perfectly fine, why would I want to “tone it” He looked at you as if you had personally insulted his mother.

“Draco, darling, your hair is almost brighter than the sun” you said and you were so close to bursting out in laughter.

He looked at you faking an offended expression.

“Most likely stiffer than the grass we’re sitting on at this moment”

“oh that’s enough” at that moment he shifted his weight over to you and started to tickle you non stop.

“Please I’m sorry I take back all of my words” you said in out of breath tone.Your laugh was probably the best sound to him.

He continued with his antics, “say my hair is the most beautiful this world” it wasn't even a second thought to him to follow up with a,“other than yours of course” he always had a way of making you feel appreciated for the multiple ways you did your hair through out your school years and even now.

Fourth Year

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In the summer before your fourth year at hogwarts,you had decided that you wanted to try something new and get locs. It was something you always thought of but never really got the courage to do.

You always would just tell yourself “I think I’d miss my hair, even if doing it is a pain I’ll never stop loving it.”

That changed.Of course you’d missed your hair but getting locs, something you've been anticipating for a long time sounded a bit more exciting than doing your hair everyday.

It was finally the Gryffindor vs Slytherin quidditch game.Everyone had been looking forward to this.Every Slytherin, Gryffindor game always involved some sort of drama and it was the best.That day was nice up until it was completely and utterly ruined.

When the game was over Pansy Parkinson had shouted out to you and Angelina Johnson that your hair looked of worms.Angelina Johnson was probably the only Gryffindor you could put up with.Maybe it was because of the fact that she was an older black girl with her natural hair out and you desperately wanted tips on how to make yours look like hers.You and Angelina had quickly became friends in your first and her third year.She was more of a sister figure for you and when she went on about how nice Fred looked this year and the next you went on about how annoyingly hot Draco got third year She had teased you endlessly for it but you really couldn’t help it.

You didn’t know why it hurt so much coming from her but when that happened you were so close to crying.You were going to say something until Ginny Weasley said some very choice words to Pansy that left her as red as a tomato and she ran of the pitch.For someone with so much bark she absolutely no bight after that, you thanked Ginny and she responded with saying “There’s no reason to thank me Parkinson needed someone to finally give it to her” She then went up to Harry Potter and said he did good in the game.

“I don’t know if she knows her crush on him is obvious” You thought as you and Angelia walked back to the castle together planning on how to get Pansy back.

You heard the girl beside you try to stop a laugh from coming out so you just assumed you said that out loud.as always.

”Do you know what she has against you?”Angelina asked

Even though Pansy was in your house she never much liked you for some reason.

“I think it’s from first year when I slapped her hand off of my hair.” You laughed “She was playing with the beads as if they were some kind of toy”

“She absolutely deserved it!” Angelia responded with a laugh.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Much to you and Angelina’s dismay someone had gotten to Pansy before you.She ran into the great hall shrieking and when you looked the first thing that came to mind was low quality Medusa.Her long thin black hair now replaced with black worms.Everyone in the great hall was laughing at her condition.Even many of the Slytherins you were surrounded by, it was almost sad how her own house didn’t like her. almost.

Why would she even come into the great hall looking like that? You thought out loud on accident.You really needed to work on that.It wasn’t much of a problem though, because many of your pupils next to you nodded mindlessly at your statement in agreement.

You had guessed Angelina had told Fred about the incident, he told McGonagall, or as he said Minnie (you didn’t know how he even got to that level),and she must have informed the other teachers.

She ran out of the great hall when she noticed no one not even a teacher was going to help her.Not even her own head of house, it was nice to know that Snape was on your side on this you felt pretty bad now when in class all you thought about was how greasy his hair was and how you should probably anonymously drop off some shampoo for him.

“Hey maybe I should tell the twins about that one.Nope y/n you are a nice person who does nice things you thought as you tried to remove the voice that told you that’s Snape would mostly likely like some Muggle Brand “Head and Shoulders Shampoo” Although you’d never be caught dead using it, it could never hurt to try it on someone else.y/n stop.Nice thoughts.”Oh but imagine him trying to put his hair up and the hair tie is too greasy to ho-” You decided to turn your attention to something more valuable at that point.

The real question was who had done it.You turned over to the Gryffindor table.Your back had been facing Angelina’s.You two always did this seeing as many students at school didn’t know that touching someone’s hair randomly without even asking was weird.Angelina had found a solution saying “We should sit with our backs facing each other,Then no one from the other table can random tug at our hair.” You agreed to the idea saying that it was brilliant.

You asked with a giddy expression asking her “did you do it without me?”

She shook her head and said “no maybe it was Fred or George”.

You would’ve thought that the girl was drugged up on love potion seeing how easily she forgot what she was about to ask and looked at Fred with heart eyes going on about a completely different topic.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and looked around the great hall and your eyes landed on him.He was already looking at you.Your hair.You made the decision of adding gold accessories to it today. Angelina had had a long talk with you saying how “Parkinson was only jealous because the last remotely good hairstyle she had was the bob in your third year” You decided that you still wanted to add something to your hair to make yourself feel better.Not for the acceptance of the others and how they think your hair “should look”.

When he finally looked into your eyes you raised your eyebrows in expectance.You were almost waiting for him to say some sort of mean comment about you.

The truth was Draco was absolutely enthralled by you.He liked how when in first year you came into school with your hair in braids and beads of light brown, dark brown, and white beads.He liked when in second year you started to wear your hair out more often.The way it would always smell of Shea or Coconut.

But who was he to go up to a random person who barely knew him and say “oh your hair smells really nice”

He noticed how other kids would sometimes touch your hair and you obviously didn’t like that.You noticed that Draco wasn’t going to make some sort of mean comment you realized it was him who did it.You mouthed a “thank you” with a grateful smile and Draco nodded and smiled warmly.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Weird thing is Draco probably gained his crush on you when he said saw that you two had both used an excessive amount of gel in your hair.

It was a dark time, second year, for you, and your hair, where slick backs were the only real things you knew how to do to style your hair.You wanted so badly to be like the other girls in your house who don’t even have to try with getting their hair up in the morning.Draco didn't mind though.

He liked when in third year you decided to wear your hair in an afro. He hated when he found you in a corner crying because some slytherin boys had said how your hair was “Worse than poor mudblood Grangers”.

Third Year

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He liked when he made up a story to his father and got the boys detention in the forbidden forest with Hagrid.He liked when he charmed a butterfly hair clip that he had charmed to flutter it's wings and left it on the outside of your dorm door.He had hoped none of your roommates would get to it before you did.

As he walked down the stairs and said in almost incoherent tone “They better not bloody get to it before her. What idiot would possibly think a flat golden butterfly clip y/n’s favorite animal was theirs? Merlin and who in their right mind would think that a baby blue box with the name y/n on it in golden letters was theirs?”

“Honestly” he scoffed as he continued down the steps he was met with Blaise Zambini’s wide grin.They walked side by side in silence until Blaise spoke up.

“Mate you’re absolutely whipped, sneaking to her dorm before she wakes up to drop off a clip?” He turned over to Draco and was met with a scowl that looked like it could kill.It didn’t phase him though and he continued with a wide grin.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Blaise had known his friend had some infatuation with the girl ever since their second year when y/n passed by them and Draco leaned over and asked in an anxious tone,”Hey Blaise do ya think it'd be weird to tell someone their hair smells good”.

They had been working on finishing their potions essay and when he looked up he was met with a sight of his friends head in his hand as he admired you from across the common room.

Blaise obviously didn't want him to ruin his chance before he even got one, he smirked and answered with,”Mate.Yes.Don’t do that.” He looked over at Draco in a side eye way.Of course Draco didn’t notice he was too busy staring at you as you talked with Daphne Greengrass about with boy you think is the cutest at Hogwarts.He was trying to get closer to hear your response, in the process almost tipping over his ink. Blaise grabbed the ink swiftly and said in a stern tone ”I’m not kidding, that’d be bloody weird.”

“Right, it would be” he said in an almost dazed tone as he shook his head and went back to writing his potions essay.

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

He liked you when you walked into the great hall ten minutes late with your group of friends.You had a slicked back ponytail with the clip right on the right side of it.

He liked you when he heard you say to your friends “Godric I’m telling you guys I love the person who gave me this clip” You said as you took the clip out your hair with a bright smile that in Draco’s opinion could make guy swoon “and get this the wings move, isn’t that brilliant?”

He was overjoyed that you seemed to enjoy the new presence of the butterfly clip.Blaise nudged him and widened his eyes.Draco finally got out of his daze and noticed you gave him a smile he quickly smiled back and looked down trying to hide the blush on his face as he looked down at his plate.

He could hear Blaise snickering on the side of him muttering something about “its sad you can’t just tell her already”

Fifth Year

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Draco was never the guy on the other end of the bullying but when Profferer Moody had transformed him into a ferret he was completely humiliated.He quickly responded with a harsh “My father will hear about this!”

That’s when he noticed you at the front of the crowd with almost tears in your eyes as you told McGonogall what happened.You really did always look perfect in his eyes.Your melanated skin was shining in the sun practically counting off the sun and that shimmering butterfly clip halfway flying around on your hair.Something about you just couldn’t stop Draco from looking admiring you.He decided to run and probably go hide somewhere from all of the humiliation.He was running so fast probably crying at this point over what happened that he couldn’t even hear some footsteps following him and few minutes later.

He was sitting down in some old nook in the castle crying of humiliation. Muttering words of “How dare he stick me down of all people bloody Crabbe’s pants” and “Godric in front of her too”.

He could barely hear the small and careful “Hi” you gave to him.

He quickly looked up with a harsh glare and when he noticed it was you his eyes softened and he responded with a small “Hey”.He then put his face back into his hands hoping that you would just go away. Even if he wanted you to stay.

“Merlin, she really is seeing me like this,” He thought.

He felt her sit by him and their legs practically touching.When she touched he flinched a bit at the contact.His father and mother did love him but his dad Lucius didn’t exactly show it through physical touch and he obviously couldn’t get his mum to come to the school and give him some kind of goodnight hug could he?

“Oh I’m sorry,I probably shouldn’t have done that,” She spoke in a rushed and apologetic tone as she started to move over to give him space.

“No you’re fine just not used to it is all” y/n felt herself saddened at those words and took it as an invitation to grab one of his hands and lace their fingers together.

At this point Draco felt like he was going to explode and even if his hands were wet from his tears he wasn’t about to pull his hand away.”Um, Draco, I just wanted to say that Moody had no right doing that” “Teachers aren’t even aloud to that here, even though you were coming after potter no one deserves that.

“Thanks for coming to comfort me, it really erm, means a lot from you” He said as he looked down at your hands the paleness of his and the brown tones of your contrasting against each other. The sight really did make his stomach erupt with butterflies but all Draco could come up with was he felt sick but a good sick.The girl he liked didn’t laugh at him when he got turned into a bloody ferret and she actually took the time to check up on him. That was enough for him.

“I’m happy it does” you said as you looked foward with a small content smile.They sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before y/n spoke “If it means anything,I think you make an adorable ferret” y/n said with a small laugh.Draco let out a breathy laugh and before he could even think he blurted out “Your hair smells really nice”

Really Draco he thought you get her to sit next. to you, hold your hand, and you told her hair smells good?? Why can’t we just listen to Blaise Godric wha-” His racing thoughts were interrupted by y/n.

“Oh-Um well thank you” She responded with a small nod and a content smile and she knew this was the time.She turned to the boy beside her and said “you were the ones to get those boys detention for me right”

Draco looked up at her for the first time since she sat down eyes red and wide.He became a rambling mess and started to awkwardly state, “Well erm y-you know I just thought they deserved it b-becau-”

“And I’m also assuming you’re the one to give this clip?” She interrupted with the brightest smile her and Draco now looking at each other.

“Well erm-yes” he said meekly. He was still holding your hand resisting the urge to look down at them forever.

“How’d you know?” You said eagerly. Draco looked at you a bit confused until you said “How’d you know that a butterfly is my favorite animal?”

Draco started to gain some confidence and said “Well I had been having a bloody crush on you since first year so I thought it was only appropriate to know your favorite animal at least ” He hadn’t noticed what he had just revealed as he continued to tell y/n things.“I’m really sorry about the hair comment too” He rambled “It's just that I've been waiting to get that compliment in since second year.” He mumbled in a way that was almost too low to hear then spoke up,“Blaise told me it was rather odd and that I shouldn’t tell you th-”

That’s when he noticed her face.As if he hadn’t been admiring her for the past five years of his school life.She wore a look that was giving off all different kinds of emotions but the one that was mainly seen was happiness and appreciation.

“Godric no” y/n breathed out “I think that’s the best sort of compliment I could get” Draco looked at her brightly then she continued “and well” She started looking down at their entangled hands “I’ve liked you for a long time too” “If you wanted to know” She looked up at him and he was in a sort of shock? It was like he was waiting for her to say “only joking” and run away like one of the weasels.but she didn’t.

“Draco” She said in a singsong tone as she waved a hand in front of his now almost red face.

“Merlin” he breathed out with the brightest smile he could make “Well in that case IwaswonderingifyouwouldliketgotoHogsmeadewithme” He said in the fasted way he could ready to repeat it before she chirped back a quick, “Yes! Of Course!”

“I-” Draco started to repeat, “Wait you understood that?” He spoke back with an inquisitive look.

“I mean if you don’t want me to say yes-” She teased with a sly grin.

“No,I mean yes,I like that you like me and that you’re going to go to Hogsmeade with me,” he affirmed in a rushed manner.

“Perfect!” She responded “How about we go clean you up then yea?”

“Right, that’ll be for the best,” he said with a small smile.

They shyly held hands the rest of the way walking to the prefects bathrooms and y/n helped clean up Draco. They finally talked with one another and Draco finally got the girl he was going after for five years.

Present Time

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

“Fine fine alright” You sighed in defeat.

“Draco Malfoy your hair is THE most beautiful thing in this world.”

He had stop attacking you at this point and you two were in a criss cross position in front of each other, you were holding his face in both of your hands and the both of you were smiling like absolute idiots.

He looked at your with a grin that he was failing at trying to hide with a pointed expression.

You rolled your eyes and said “except for mine of course”

Draco Malfoy was by far the most dramatic person you’ve ever met in your life.

One day you were in a bookshop and told him that if he went to a muggle school he would be an spectacular theatre kid.Draco for some reason had taken that to great offense and went on saying how “his own bloody girlfriend doesn’t love him” and how “she thinks I’d be in some sort of theatrical arts like Pottah and his unruly ballet”

You honestly didn’t know if Draco was trying to be funny on purpose sometimes or if the things he said just flowed out like silk unlike his hair.

Now you sat under the big tree in the Malfoy Manor garden with Draco’s head on your lap, taking about how just because the conditioner is apple scented it doesn't make it any less bad for your hair.

A/N- hey lol, Anyways this is my first fic. I would really like any constructive criticism, anything you noticed off, or anything that you think needs improvements.I really haven't written anything non school related in a long time and I really want to get back into it :)

Also it might just be me but if any one gave a comment on my hair and it included “your hair smells good” I would just dies on spot.maybe that's just me lol.Lastly, if you didn’t know I based using a bunch of gel in your in a second year off of myself lol so let’s just say my hair was not the best.Anyways have a good night or day <3

#draco fluff #draco malfoy x poc #draco malfoy #angelina johnson #pansy parkinson #slytherin reader #blaise #blaise zambini #harry potter #draco x yn #draco x slytherin!reader #draco x you #draco imagine #narcissa malfoy #draco imagines #harry potter fluff #draco x poc reader #malfoy

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geniusgub · 4 years

Text

unauthorized//matthew gray gubler

based on mgg’s new unauthorized documentaries

genre: fluff

warnings: none!

word count: 3.4k

one last apology for the delay on posting these. fuck migraines!! iykyk. anyways, here it is. im really close to 200 followers and when i get there, ill be doing a preview of my new spencer fic called “north” so be ready to see that v soon! enjoy and don’t forget to give me some feedback!🖤

Getting to visit Matthew while he’s filming is a rare, yet special, occurrence. I always try to make the best of it when I get the change to head up to Vancouver, whether it be for a quick weekend or a whole week. When the final season of the show started, I did what I could to get to Vancouver for as long as I possibly could. I’d grown close to the cast, not to mention my boyfriend of six years. I wanted to make the best of this final season and make as many memories as I could, even if I’m not a member of the cast. They always joke that I’m an honorary member.

When, one night, Matthew mentioned reviving the Unauthorized Documentaries for the final season of Criminal Minds, I thought he meant it as a joke. He mentioned it so nonchalantly that I’d almost laughed. I thought he’d be too busy to worry about filming something on his own. But on his first week filming, during one of our first nightly FaceTimes, he ran a whole slew of ideas by me and I knew he was serious.

At least once a week, he would run an idea by me and would judge the quality by my quantity of laughter. I didn’t even need to comment or give my input, he’d just rattle off jokes and concepts and then either check them off or cross them out when I react. He did this every week up until this week, when he started filming.

“Do I look good?” Matthew brings my attention up from my laptop as he tugs on the lapel of his dress jacket, then holds out his hands to reveal his outfit. He’s dressed for the scenes he’s filming today, a scene with

Aubrey, so I’m not entirely sure why he’s so worried about how he’s dressed, but I’m not composing about the open request to check him out. “I’m about to go start filming the documentary with Andy,”

I drag my eyes up and down his body, my fingers stilling over the keys as I admire his figure. When I reach his eyes again, his eyebrows are raised because he can tell I’m doing more than just evaluating his outfit. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I nod, pushing my laptop aside and reaching my hands out for him. “You look very good, bunny,”

Matthew chuckles as I successfully grab his hands and tug him closer to me. “No, no,” he doesn’t resist as I twist my fingers in his belt loops, “I gotta go work,”

“I know,” I pout, letting go of him and sitting back in the too-comfy armchair I’m in. I’d give anything to grab him again and drag him into this chair with me. “Go film, I’ll probably be here when you get back,”

“Probably?” He picks up his script and, like the diva he is, checks his hair in the mirror and heads towards his trailer door, peeking back at me.

“I might follow you, I might stay here and keep doing the work I’ve been procrastinating,” I shrug and gesture back to my discarded laptop, flashing with a blank Google Doc, a doc that has been blank for weeks on end. Being a writer is hard and frustrating and not easy, by any means. What made me think getting a degree in writing would be a good idea? Shaking off my frustrations, I smile cutely at my boyfriend, tilting my head to the side. “Give me a kiss before you leave?”

Matthew nods and stalks back over, leaning over to peck my lips. “Whatever you write,” he whispers, warm breath fanning across my face, “will be absolutely amazing and beautiful and I’ll be honored to read it,”

“Oh, you give me too much credit,” I scoff, watching Matthew roll his eyes.

“And you don’t give yourself enough,” he responds, and then hastily checks his watch. “Okay, I’ve gotta go, but this conversation is not over. I’ll see you later. Love you,”

“Love you too. Go be funny,” I wave goodbye at him as he goes bouncing out of the trailer, closing the door behind him, leaving me to my empty Google Doc.

///

An hour later, my head is starting to hurt from staring down at a bright screen so I decide to take a break and get something to eat from catering. I haven’t heard anything from Matthew and I’m not sure what he’s up to, so I grab my phone and throw on one of his hoodies that’s a bit too big on me and head out of his trailer.

As soon as I do, though, I run right into Matthew with a pile of shoes in his hands, making them tumble to the asphalt. He curses and keeps a straight face as he tries to pick them up again. Then he sees an opportunity in me and starts to shove shoes into my hands to help him, but they’re still tumbling out. I resist the urge to laugh because I know this would ruin his bit, and I just let him silently shove Daniel’s shoes into my arms.

But then he runs off, leaving me with shoes in my arms. Without any direction or guidance from my boyfriend, I turn to Andy, who’s holding the camera, and shrug my shoulders, dropping Daniel’s shoes to the floor before walking off to my original destination- catering. Those two boys can clean up the mess they devised. I’m hungry.

Matthew finds me just twenty minutes later, taking me by surprise when he wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, pressing kisses to my cheek. “Thanks for helping me,”

He pulls out the chair beside me and scoots as close as he can to me, our thighs touching. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting it but it was funny. I was internally laughing,” I let my head fall onto his shoulder, feeling his arm snake around my waist. I peer up at him, feeling my pupils dilating into hearts at the sight of my stunning boyfriend. I’ll never stop being floored by his eyes and his jawline and his dimples and his lips and his smile and how fucking beautiful he is. “I liked that idea from the beginning.”

“I know you did,” he quips, not-so-sneakily swiping a chip from my plate and popping it into his mouth. “Maybe you’ll appear in another episode. Who knows?”

I don’t see Matthew until the end of the day because he’s busy doing his job, as he should be. I spend my day writing in his trailer and filling up my previously empty Google Doc. When the cast has a long break, Matthew comes in to film a scene that I recognize as the ending to the second episode. He’s sitting at his open trailer door, supposedly watching videos of Daniel modeling. He’d only waved at me when he came in, not wanting to bother my work. I wish he would distract me more. Maybe I’d take action on my fantasy of melting into this armchair with him.

His exaggerated and focused facial expression is enough to make me suppress a giggle, but then I spot a baby girl hat from Shemar on the counter and a light bulb starts floating over my head.

“Psst,” I hiss, and Matthew looks up at me, his eyebrows raised. I hold up the hat to him, and his eyes light up with a childlike excitement. He holds up his hands and I toss the hat to him, and as soon as he puts it on, I let out the laugh I’ve been holding in. “Perfect, you look perfect, baby,” Matthew winks at me and then gives a thumbs up to Andy, putting on his exaggerated face yet again and staring down at his phone. I tuck my face in my laptop so I don’t laugh again, typing diligently.

The next day is when I’m, yet again, roped into Matthew’s documentary. I don’t mind though. His ideas are hilarious and they never fail to make me laugh.

I sit in Matthew’s trailer for an hour without him, staring at a blinking cursor. I don’t write a single word and I know that sitting in the same spot won’t make inspiration suddenly strike. I decide to change my scene up and bring my laptop to catering. I grab a snack and take a seat at an empty table, crossing my legs under me, beginning to mull over combinations of words and debate definitions of words. It’d been relatively quiet in catering for a while, but it all comes to an end when Matthew comes marching up to me.

“Hi, babe,” he says sweetly, a bit too sweetly, pulling out the chair next to me and taking a seat. Like yesterday, I give him a confused look, and when he gives me the same adorable smile that he always does, my heart practically melts. The ways this man makes me fall so easily. I’ll never understand.

“Hi, there,” I respond, and then glance up at Andy holding the camera. “Can I help you?”

“Could you possibly google something for me?” Matthew says and directs his attention to my laptop. The way he’s not giving me any type of attention or physical affection let’s me know that he really is filming his documentary again, so I play into it again. What do I have to lose? I’m not writing anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” I switch to Chrome and pull up Google. “What is it?”

“Could you search Daniel Henry?” Matthew keeps a straight face and it’s moments like this that remind me how great of an actor he is. Who can keep a straight face while regurgitating an incorrect name?

I turn my head to him, biting my lip to hold back my laugh. “Henry?”

Matthew nods. “Yeah, I know, it sounds like a girl's name. I thought it was a girls name at first. Daniel,” He repeats it as if that clarifies anything at all. I just narrow my eyes at him again, and when I don’t search the obviously incorrect name that he’s giving me, he sits back in his chair, finally looking at me again with his eyes narrowed. “Do you-“ he lets out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, “do you think there’s any chance he could be taller than me?”

“Okay, we can stop there,” Andy cuts us off, dropping the camera from focus.

“I think you missed your calling in life, love,” Matthew chuckles, pulling me into his arms, attacking my face with kisses. “I’m sorry to spring that on you, but-“

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. If you need help with anything else, you know I’m around for the rest of the week.”

Surely, he cashed in on that offer. It was accidental. It was my fault, really. I was just trying to get back to Matthew’s trailer the next day after having lunch with Kirsten and Daniel, to which Matthew jokingly called me a traitor. I heard Matthew’s loud voice from all the way down the hallway and I should have turned and left, but I didn’t.

So, iced coffee in hand, I stroll down the hallway and when I make it to the clearing, I stop in my tracks. Now, you’d think that after being with this man for five years and living with him, nothing would surprise me anymore. But he still has his moments, and this is definitely one of them. He has these wooden boxes and he’s got a roll of packing tape, and he’s taping the boxes to his feet. Maybe this shouldn’t surprise me, because he’s told me about this idea of his, but seeing him actually doing it with my own eyes is a whole different thing.

It only takes him a moment to notice my presence, and when he does, he waves me over. “Babe, babe, hey babe, babe, babe,” he says quickly, waving his hand quickly, holding the wooden box against his foot. “Come help me,”

Keeping up the same attitude I’ve had in the past, I let out a dramatic sigh and drag myself over to him, sitting down on the floor and putting my coffee on the floor. But the moment I do, Matthew snatches it up and starts drinking it as I grab the dangling packing tape. Gosh, if he actually acted like this, I’d have broken up with him forever ago.

I wrap the tape around his foot and the box and then around his ankle, making sure to not make it too tight so that I hurt him. He’s still sipping my coffee and staring into the camera like some cocky asshole when I move onto the other foot, and then I eventually run out of tape.

I sit back on my heels and look up at him. “I’m out,” Wow, this position we’re in right now? If Matthew didn’t have wooden boxes strapped to his feet and we weren’t in the middle of the Criminal Minds offices, I’d probably be reaching for his belt. But I can’t let my mind go there or else we’ll be hooking up in a bathroom or his trailer, and that never ends well for anyone.

“Okay,” he mumbles, and I watch in amusement for way too long as he struggles to get up to his feet. I don’t even help him, I just sit back and giggle. “Here, you can have this back,” he holds my coffee out to me, and just as soon as I reach for it, he pulls it back. “Wait,” he takes a long sip, “okay here.” I finally grab my coffee again and then move to lean against the wall, watching him struggle to take the first few steps with boxes taped to his feet.

He hobbles down the hallway, all the way to BJ and proceeds to ask her to paint the boxes like shoes. And once he gets the shot he wants of this scene, Andy wanders off and he comes wobbling back to me with a cute, dumb smile on his face. “Will you help me get these off?”

I nod, sitting down on the floor again to pull off the tape around his feet. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t trip and fall on your face,”

“Me too,” he laughs, sighing with relief when I take the first box off and set it aside. “But hey, this is my last break and then I’m gonna be working late today. I don’t know if it’s worth it to stick around set. I’m not gonna be able to come see you or anything,”

“Maybe I’ll go back to your house. I can make some dinner instead of ordering out,” I pull off the last bit of tape and then swiftly reach up to press it against Matthew’s cheek, watching it hang there limply.

He gives me a deadpan look as I devolve into giggles, falling over his lap and holding onto his misplaced elbow pads to hold me up. “Ha ha, very funny. I’m laughing so much. That was so funny,” His voice is void of any humor as he holds my shaking body from hitting the carpeted floor.

“I know, I’m just so funny,” I quip, pulling myself together enough to crane my neck and kiss his cheek. “But I am probably gonna go back to your house. Sounds like a good idea,”

“Okay, just let me know when you get there,” Matthew pats my thigh and signals me to get up, and once we’re on our feet again, he moves the wooden boxes aside. “I might not respond but-“

“Text you so you know I’m safe. I’ve got it,” I finish for him, fixing the lapel of his jacket. I push my pointer finger against the tip of his nose, making him scrunch it up in the insanely adorable way he does. The sight brings a smile to my face and it makes my heart beat faster. “I’ll see you later, okay? Go be brilliant.”

///

The sound of the front door opening lifts my head, taking my attention away from the glass of wine in my hand and the laptop in front of me, yet again. I glance at the timer on the oven and then jump to my feet, padding towards the foyer.

Matthew is dropping his backpack by the door when I get to him, and pauses halfway through reaching for his jacket. “Hi, love bug,” he murmurs, giving me a weak smile.

I grab Matthew’s jacket for him and slide it off his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” When I turn to hang the teddy bear jacket on the coat rack, I feel his hands on my waist, drawing me closer to him. He successfully pulls me against his chest, lips leaving a trail against my shoulder. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice wavering as he tucks his face into my neck, “long, and repetitive, and tiring, and I’m very hungry and I smell food,”

I turn myself around in Matthew’s arms and face him, placing my hands on his cheeks. “I got pizza dough on my way home and I made homemade pizza. It’s in the oven and it’ll be done in about ten minutes. And I poured you a glass of wine too,”

Matthew’s eyes flutter closed and he presses his forehead against mine. “You’re an angel. You’re a goddamn angel, sent from heaven to bless me with your presence,”

“Oh, stop,” I laugh, patting his cheek gently. “Let’s just get wine drunk and eat pizza and watch movies all night. You don’t have work tomorrow and I’m tired of looking at my damn laptop,”

“You make us sound like two teenage girls,” Matthew unwinds from my embrace and wanders into the kitchen, swiping the full glass of wine from the counter. He takes a sip and then pecks my lips again, and I revel in the sweetness of his lips.

Matthew sits at the counter, right in front of my laptop, taking another long gulp of his wine. I check on the pizza, just to make sure it’s not burnt, but when Matthew is silent for too long, I look back to make sure he’s okay. Sometimes when he has a hard or long day at work, he tends to shut down and not open up to me, and I don’t want that to happen. But when I turn to check up on him, I find him leaning into my laptop, his eyes darting across the screen.

I gasp, stepping forward and slamming my laptop shut, ripping it away. “Hey! You know I don’t like it when you read my work before it’s edited and finished,”

Matthew pouts, hiding his face behind his wine. “Sorry, I just- well, you’ve been talking about it so much and it was right here and I wanted to see how it was going,” I go into the other room and put my laptop into my bag, out of sight and out of mind. When I return to the kitchen, Matthew is pulling the pizza out of the oven just as the timer goes off. “If it means anything, of what I did read, it was really good. I only got through the first two paragraphs, but I really loved it.”

“Well, thanks,” I mumble, going onto my toes to kiss his cheek before grabbing the pizza cutter. “I’m not mad, I just-“

“I get it. You don’t let me read your writing until it’s done and I don’t let you see anything I’ve filmed until it’s done,”

“Oh, so, I can’t see any of the documentary until it’s done?”

“Maybe I’ll make an exception for that,” he quips, grabbing the pizza cutter from me and digging it into the hot pizza crust. “I don’t trust you with this thing anymore. Not after you ended up in the hospital last year with Sandy,” he turns to me with a pointed look.

“It was an accident and you know it!”

“Oh, really?” He guffaws, tossing the pizza cutter aside and reaching for my waist. But I dodge him, taking a step back. He accepts this as his challenge, reaching for me again, and when I dodge him one more time with a confident smirk, a playful fire ignites behind his eyes. “Fuck the pizza. I’m coming for you.”

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gubler #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic #nikos writing #matthew gray gubler one shot

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pressedinthepages · 4 years

Text

Ashwagandha

noun. sanskrit. Also known as “Indian gensing,” ashwagandha is popular with herbalists for use as both a sedative, an anti-inflammatory aid, and an aphrodisiac.

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier/Reader

Word Count: 2504

Rating: E

Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request: [Hello! First of all: I really, really love your writing, it's so good! Could you write a oneshot where the reader helped Jaskier after a bad injury and although they are friends and the reader helped gladly, Jaskier insists to return the favor in a special kind of way, aka fingering/going down on her, while they lay side by side? :3] oh my dear sweet nonnie, i love how your mind works

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: smut, a bit of whump, hurt, comfort, oral sex

Jaskier finds a way to thank a talented healer after a bout of illness.

The scent of sage, mint, and coriander wafts through your home. Winter approaches, and this blend of herbs tends to be the most successful in staving off sickness that comes with it. You have laid out numerous little bottles, intent on filling your stocks for the coming months. The herbs are fine between your fingers as you sprinkle them into each glass. You top them all off with a high-quality spirit, having recently had a very generous dwarf trade with you for the recipe for your remedy for headaches.

Just as you put the stopper in the final bottle your door swings open, revealing a man flushed with sweat and a delirious look in his eyes. Not far behind him is another man, a bit taller and more than a bit broader, clad in armor with two swords strung across his back. The silver of his hair stands out in the earthy tones of your home, and the panic in his golden eyes fades, relief softening his features when you turn to them.

You recognize Geralt, having traded with him several times in the past whenever he would blow through town. His companion, though, is unfamiliar. You figure that he would be devastatingly handsome under better circumstances, chestnut brown hair sweeping just over eyes the color of a clear sky. Now though, he looks horrible, your chest tightening with worry as it does with every person who stumbles through your door.

You rush to their side, fitting your shoulder underneath the other man’s arm as you lead him to the cot along the wall of the room. You lay him down before setting to work, quiet as you focus on what you may need.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, his heart started beating quickly and then he just collapsed. I brought him straight here, I don’t know how else to help him,” Geralt sits in one of the chairs at your table, his figure almost comically large for the furniture.

“You’ve done the right thing, I think this is just the seasonal funk that hits this time of year. I was actually just making a little tincture for it.” You hum, grabbing one of the bottles and uncorking it. You sit on the edge of the cot, gently lifting the man’s head and tipping the medicine down his throat. He swallows, followed by a bout of aggressive coughing before falling back onto the pillow. His eyes fall closed as his breathing evens out, slow and steady as you stand.

“He wasn’t coughing before,” Geralt says, moving to crouch at his side. You smile a bit to yourself, glad that Geralt has found someone that he can trust and care for.

“It’s just the potion I gave him, it’s got a pretty strong spirit that tends to hit the back of the throat. He’ll be just fine in a couple of days.”

Geralt visibly relaxes, his head falling to his chest for a moment. He then rises, pulling a small coin pouch from his waist. He holds it out to you, but you shake your head and push his hand away.

“No, Geralt, I’ll not take your coin for helping your friend,” he smirks at the word, shaking his head as he moves towards the door.

“I saw a few contracts on the board in town, do you mind if he stays here while I work?” Geralt turns back to you, trusting you to take care of his companion.

“Of course Geralt, do be careful though,” you smile, straightening up the counter where you had been working earlier. “Actually, would you mind doing a favor for me while you’re out?”

He only hums, quirking an eyebrow.

“Coriander grows wild in the forests near here, would you mind picking some for me? That’s what really helps the fever.” You take the little bit that you have left and hold it up, showing it to the Witcher. You then tie a little string around the leaves and hang them from the ceiling to dry.

“Easy enough, but it’ll probably be a couple of days before I can get back here,” his voice always comforts you, low and gravelly. You think that if he wasn’t so emotionally constipated he would make for a good bed partner.

“That’s perfectly fine, Geralt. There’s no real rush, I have enough here for what I may need in the immediate future.”

He nods before turning to leave, closing the door gently behind him. You look over at the man laying on your cot, watching as his chest rises and falls with each breath.

You startle when your door suddenly opens once more, Geralt peeking back in. “Forgot to tell you, his name’s Jaskier. Not that he’d let you have a moment of silence when he wakes up, but he may very well forget to actually tell you.”

He leaves once more, leaving you shaking your head with a smile. You go to sit at Jaskier’s side, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. His fever has already started to wane, and he’s not quite as clammy as he was when he arrived.

“You’ll be just fine, Jaskier,” you whisper, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes as you let the calming scent of the herbs surround you once more.

…

After several days of healing, Jaskier looks much better. He has been a great help to you as well, seemingly unable to stay still if he’s awake. Within the first moments of him waking on the first night, he had attempted to woo you into the bed with him, called out for Geralt more than a few times, and almost hit his head when he tried to stand, looking for his lute. His knees had wobbled with the sudden change and he just barely caught himself on the edge of the bed.

Leave it to Geralt to stick you with a chaotic mess of a bard.

You couldn’t help but find him charming as you got to know him, especially since he seemed so keen to assist you in your daily chores. He turned out to be quite efficient at grinding herbs, which he said that Geralt would occasionally let him do in the evenings by a raging fire.

Now, he sits at your table, barefoot and clad in only a light chemise and a pair of navy blue trousers. Jaskier has a large array of bottles spread out in front of him, attempting to find corks that fit in them. It’s a bit shocking how quickly he can find a properly sized cork, it usually takes you hours of trial and error to get them finished and ready to be filled.

You slide up beside him, gently tilting his face to you with a careful touch of your fingers at his jaw. He looks up at you with those beautiful blue eyes, darting between your own and sizzling with energy that runs just beneath the surface. You place the back of your hand to his forehead, checking that the fever has finished running its course.

“How are you feeling? Still a bit tired?”

“Oh for you, darling? I would never tire, maybe only occasionally request a small water break.” Jaskier smirks up at you, abandoning the small basket that had been sitting in his lap.

“Jaskier,” you chide, unable to hide the smile that pulls your lips, “please be reasonable with me.”

“Hmm, and what do I get in return?” You feel his hand run along the length of your arm and down to your waist, pulling you just a bit closer to him.

“Depends on your answer,” you murmur, smoothing away an unruly bit of hair that had fallen into his eyes.

Jaskier huffs a bit, shaking his head before smiling back up at you. Your heart skips a beat at being on the receiving end of such clear adoration, even from a man you only just met.

“Fine, love, I’ll humor you,” the mischievous glint has returned to his eyes, and you’re sure that they never go very long without it. “I feel almost completely perfect, though I will say that I do still feel a bit run down.”

“Thank you, Jaskier,” his smile somehow grows wider at your thanks, visibly preening with even the slightest praise. “That’s expected, I’d say by tomorrow you should be well enough to continue on your travels with Geralt.”

“You truly are a marvel, my dear,” Jaskier turns to face you completely as he pulls you even closer, his face mere inches from your stomach. “I cannot possibly thank you enough for all that you’ve done for me.”

“Hmm, I’m sure you’ll think of a way,” you tease, your fingers dancing down the line of his neck. He visibly shivers with the touch, his eyes darkening with lust.

Jaskier brings his other hand to your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you to sit astride him. You gasp at the strength with which he moves you, having greatly underestimated the capabilities of the man beneath you.

“Jaskier,” you whisper, a hair’s breadth away from his lips, “you’re still not fully well, I don’t want to hurt you.”

He only smiles, biting his lip as he brushes his nose against yours. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to come up with another way to show my thanks…”

You feel Jaskier’s hands trail down your hips, roving slowly over the curve of your ass before settling under your thighs. Faster than you can blink he stands, pulling you with him in his arms. You grasp tightly to the collar of his chemise as he walks you over to your bed in the corner of the room.

He sets you down gently before leaning over you, pushing you back to lay atop the quilt. His chest heaves a bit and the high points of his cheeks are a bit pink, but other than that you wouldn’t have been able to tell that he had just lifted and carried a grown woman across the room.

“My gods,” you whisper, running your hands down his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt just under your fingers.

“Nope, just me,” Jaskier murmurs, leaning down to kiss along your neck. His mouth is warm and soft on your skin, and after only a moment you turn your head, chasing his lips with your own. When he finally slots your lips together you sigh into him, feeling like you can finally breathe after days of holding your breath. He still tastes faintly of the herby mixtures you’ve been giving him, and you find yourself winding your fingers into the fine silk of his hair.

Jaskier quickly undoes the ties at the top of your skirt, moaning as you lift your hips to his so he can remove the garment along with your smallclothes. His fingers bring goosebumps to the surface of your skin as he drags them along the outside of your bare thigh. Your legs fall a bit further open instinctually, inviting him to bring his touch to your core.

Instead, he parts from you, only enough to barely brush against you with each word from his lips. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to push you into anything…”

“Please, Jaskier,” you whisper, pulling him back down to your lips. You feel him smile against you before he moves, kissing along your jaw and down the lines of your neck. He mouths at the peaks of your breasts through the fabric of your blouse, sliding down the slope of your stomach before settling himself between your legs, his face level with your heat.

“Just as stunning as I knew you’d be, love,” he hums as his finger slowly drags a line up the slit of your cunt, just barely circling the sensitive bud at the top. Your hips chase him, begging wordlessly for more, faster, slower, anything.

Jaskier slowly pushes his finger inside of you, turning his head to suck a mark into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. He hasn’t shaved since he’s been in your home, and his stubble scratches along your skin with every movement. Jaskier’s fingers move expertly with you, pushing a second finger to move beside the first as his thumb rubs lazy circles into your peak.

He moves his head to kiss up your thigh, closing the distance to your core. His mouth connects with your heat, licking a stripe up your cunt and sucking the tender spot where his thumb was. You look down and watch as Jaskier’s free hand moves underneath him, trying desperately to free himself from the confines of his trousers. When he succeeds his hand flies to your hip, holding you in place as his fingers take on a new vigor in your core.

They curl with every thrust, wringing wet, vulgar sounds from your body. Your mouth makes sounds of its own, moans and cries and pleas and curses, none of them bidden by any particular thought.

His fingers brush against a bundle of nerves deep inside of you, causing your back to arch off the bed and into his touch. He hums against you, vibrations singing through your veins as he thrusts relentlessly into that spot. Jaskier’s hips move of their own accord on the bed, chasing his own pleasure as he brings you yours.

Stars burst behind your eyelids as your fingers curl in his hair, holding him tight to you as your high takes over. You chant his name like a prayer into the night, praising any and all gods for bringing him into your life, even for just one moment.

Jaskier slowly works you through the peak of your pleasure, parting from you when you start to twitch with oversensitivity. He climbs back up your body, his cock resting heavy against your middle, flushed and weeping with how close he is to his own climax.

“Jaskier,” you mumble as he kisses deep into your mouth, “use me for your pleasure.”

He groans as his hips immediately begin their rhythm, fast and sloppy where he pushes against your flesh. His climax comes with a whisper of your name, warmth pooling between you with his release.

You hold Jaskier close as he comes back to himself, his eyes hazy and shiny with bliss. You roll the both of you to the side, leaving your arms around his neck as he nuzzles himself into your embrace.

“Okay love,” he murmurs, his eyes fighting to stay open, “now I really am exhausted.”

You chuckle, wrapping yourself around him as he quickly falls asleep in your arms. You know that he’ll be leaving as the sun rises the next day, but you’ll gladly hold him here for as long as you can.

And hopefully, he’ll know exactly where to return the next time he needs help.

#jaskier x reader #smut #whump #hurt #comfort

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life-love-geekculture · 4 years

Text

Alright ya’ll. Time to discuss a character who’s actions seem to have slipped past the radar in spite of the fact he is the king of stupid plans (believe me, I’ve ranted about this already):

One Mr. James Copley

For all the quality meta I’ve seen the past few weeks breaking down Booker’s betrayal, it seems to be easily forgotten he wasn’t acting alone. Copley is just as culpable as Booker in the events that occurred and, while his actions and motivations are definitely understandable to an extent, I find myself having a harder time making peace with his character.

The truth is, on the scale of things, Copley’s betrayal is kinda worse. Like, this is a man who not only discovered immortals actually exist, but that their actions over the centuries led to huge, world-shaking advancements in human progress and life span. And his immediate instinct was to sell this information to some John Hammond wanna-be pharma CEO to figure out how it works. I just...who does that?!

The fascination with Booker (and, before you at me, this post really isn’t about him. He’s just the most useful lens through which to examine Copley’s actions) stems from how personal his betrayal is. It’s the whole principle of “one life is a tragedy, a thousand is a statistic.” Booker’s story, at the end of the day is him backstabbing the people who love him for reasons that are understandable but not justifiable. It’s very centralized and therefore immediately more compelling. Copley, on the other hand, knew better!

Just in case I haven’t gotten this point across loud enough for the people in the back:

He discovered a group of immortals were enacting real, positive change for the good of humanity and he still sold them out on the shred of hope they’re immortality could be copied.

When you really think about it, it’s monstrous. And what’s even worse is, he’s aware of how badly he’s screwing over humanity from the very beginning. When Nile confronts him on this fact, all he can provide is it would “mean the end of disease.” As if that was the core ill of humanity or extending life (particularly the way we know Merrick would go about it) wasn’t going to lead to more problems. And I honestly adore Kiki’s acting in that scene, because her expression perfectly encapsulates just how bullshit that excuse is:

It’s one of the few times where I feel like the comic did the character more justice. Copley from the comic is just some asshole who got lucky discovering immortals exist and then got super lucky because Andy shows him mercy. It’s only in trying to reason out why she would do something like that that he discovers the level of good the team’s done for the world. He’s a walking, talking symbol of how Andy & Co.’s deeds are payed forward (quite literally in the comic’s case). Narratively, he’s a character who begins life on the small scale, trying to make a quick buck, and expands into a larger scope when he realizes just how far he almost screwed the pooch. By giving Copley a dead wife (which forces even more comparisons to Booker and robs comic-Copley of his own unique storyline) as justification for his actions, it mangles an otherwise solid bit of storytelling.

#the old guard #james copley #meta #sorry about the long post

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jessicajonesrp · 4 years

Text

Reminiscing and big news

The day of Dorothy Walker’s memorial service and funeral passed with minimal dramatics, thankfully.

As Jessica had promised, she and Luke had remained outside the service, vigilant for any sign of Phillip or anyone else lurking around the building or attempting a disruption. Jessica owned exactly two dresses that she had worn exactly once each, and one of them was a red wedding dress. She owned no “funeral appropriate” clothing, according to Trish, despite the irony of owning quite a lot of black t-shirts, jackets, and jeans. According to Trish, if Jessica wore any of them, despite the appropriate color, the clothes themselves would likely cause Dorothy to rise from the dead just to sputter her indignation at the scandal.

In the end she borrowed a dress from Trish that was a little short in length and tight on her around the chest, which made no sense to Jessica, since she was usually at least a cup size smaller than Trish. It was not exactly the kind of clothing that was suitable for ass-kicking, which would have made her uncomfortable any time, let alone when she was guarding a place with the actual possibility of ass-kicking. Damn Trish and her adherence to social expectations, but this wasn’t a day Jessica could argue with her.

Phillip didn’t show, although it seemed like every other person even loosely attached to the entertainment industry did. The amount of dramatic grieving from people that likely barely knew or had actively disliked Dorothy made Jessica’s skin crawl just watching them, which made her glad she didn’t have to sit through an entire service of it. No one in particular stood out to her, and the vast majority didn’t recognize her as Dorothy’s adoptive daughter as they passed, whether that was because they wouldn’t associate Jessica with wearing a dress or because Dorothy had managed to put that much distance between them over time. Jessica did notice a short young woman with dark hair and intense eyes look her over a little longer than she considered normal, but the woman didn’t speak to her, and she wasn’t someone that Jessica recognized, so she let it go.

By the time it was all over and everyone was milling around, likely gossiping more than talking about Dorothy, Jessica was more than ready to get Trish and go. She wanted to check in on her and make sure she got through her speech okay, of course, but she also had had to pee really badly. Which was weird, because her morning attempt at coffee and whiskey had not been successfully digested, something she was starting to get actively agitated about. This was not the time to be sick, damn it. She would start to think someone was poisoning her, if she hadn’t been getting all her own drinks herself.

Trish’s eyes were red, her expression tired when she finally emerged with Danny, but she gave Jessica and Luke a smile that was only slightly strained, obviously relieved that everything had gone smoothly. She gave Jessica a hug and kept her in it loosely as she looked past Jessica’s shoulder to Luke and Danny.

“Jess…I know you hate talking and feelings and combinations of the two. But would you please do just one more thing for me?”

Jessica sighed, pulling back from Trish to look at her, but despite the attitude she gave off in her look, she already knew she would say yes. “What are you making me do?”

“I sort of just…I want to go sit somewhere with you, and remember things about Mom,” Trish said softly. “Not like everyone else just did. That was a public thing. It was true, mostly, but it wasn’t the whole story, it wasn’t the Mom we knew. No one else lived with her, no one else but you knew her like I did. Just for a little while. I think it will help me, if you let me talk about things we remember.”

Her blue eyes were so full of both hurt and hope that it was hard to even look at her, let alone say no to her. Her request was about the last thing one earth Jessica wanted to do, but she sighed and nodded, for Trish.

“Fine. Just let me go pee first, I swear I’ve been holding it for like three hours now.”

They ended up sitting together on the couch of Trish’s and Danny’s penthouse, Trish with her knees wrapped around her legs, Jessica a little twitchy and tense at first, but gradually relaxing. She had been afraid that Trish might want to romanticize Dorothy, going into detail about every positive quality that the woman had and conveniently forgetting all the rest, but instead, Trish was wanting to talk about what it had been like when they lived together, or as Jessica thought of it, suffered through mutual Dorothy encounters together.

“Do you remember your first Christmas with us?” Trish said with faint smile. “Mom always insisted on going ridiculously all out with decorating, she would actually hire people to put up garland and mistletoe and fake snow and whatever else was chic that year. And she insisted on that huge photo spread of us as a new family in that magazine?”

“God, what the hell was she thinking, putting up mistletoe in a house three women lived in? Who were we supposed to kiss, each other?” Jessica rolled her eyes, before smirking. “Maybe we should have, just to shake her up a bit. That would have been the most viral photo shoot of the year. Patsy Walker makes out with her own sister!”

Trish giggled. “She made you wear that dress that matched mine, and you absolutely refused to smile. In every single picture, every damn one, there was Mom and me grinning like manic Christmas fairies, and you giving your best death glare, all decked out in velvet and lace.”

“She didn’t try that again, after all the comments to the editor speculating about if her new daughter was brain damaged or mentally ill from her tragic accident,” Jessica remember, her smirk deepening. “I think they would have cut me out of the pictures entirely if that didn’t kind of defeat the point of the photo shoot.”

“She would get so mad at how you dressed,” Trish reminded her, smiling. “I swear, Jess, I think your style to this day is a defiant reaction to her constantly telling you to comb your hair, put on makeup, and wear clothes with a designer labeled designed for the female body. Who knows, maybe you would be a fashion model if she hadn’t actually encouraged you to be one. You have the height and figure for it, she wasn’t wrong.”

“But absolutely zero interest,” Jessica reminded her flatly. “I outgrew the girly thing about the time I outgrew wearing princess dresses with Sketchers. Even then, Barbies in my hands got their hair chopped off and their bodies tattooed with Sharpie.”

“Remember the time the Thanksgiving caterer she hired somehow brought us the wrong food, for some vegan family, and we had this ridiculous tofu shaped like a turkey?” Trish laughed. “And she tried to cook one herself but never actually turned the oven on, so we had like, a thousand side dishes that all looked and tasted like cardboard, and a frozen turkey? And then you tried to microwave it-“

“Hey, I was 15,” Jessica laughed. “I know now to just order take out. Real take out, not vegan catering shit.”

“And that time she decided we should drive to the movie I was shooting in LA, all the way from New York, because it was about a girl going on a road trip with her friends, and she thought I needed to actually experience a road trip to give an authentic acting experience,” Trish continued, her smile broadening. “No matter how hard we tried, we couldn’t convince her that driving across the country with your manager mother at age seventeen is not at all the same as driving with a group of friends.”

“Oh my god, you’re lucky I didn’t strangle you both with my earbuds,” Jessica muttered, shaking her head. “She literally brought along an It’s Patsy soundtrack to listen to on the road. Does she know how many times I had to sit on my hands to keep from grabbing the wheel to force us over the side of a cliff? I didn’t care if it was suicide, I was fucking ready to die within an hour.”

“She would actually go rant at the gas station attendants about the unacceptable lack of cleanliness and availability of healthy food options in their stores,” Trish remembered, snickering. “I was so mortified. And you locked us both out of the car for an hour at one stop.”

“I needed the peace, what can I say?” Jessica shrugged, smirking. “I would do it again, a thousand times over.”

Trish sighed, her expression going more serious as paused before speaking up again.

“None of this was funny then,” she said quietly. “It probably still isn’t, really. But we’re the only ones that remember. We’re the only ones left that really knew her. Mom…she was a difficult person. Really, really hard to love sometimes, and harder to like. But the good things I said about her back there were true too. She was smart, she had high expectations of herself and others, and she was strong. She had to be, raising me on her own, wanting me to be more and have more in life than she could. She messed me up, but she always thought what she did was for my best, no matter how much she had to twist up logic to come to the conclusion that it was right.”

Jessica didn’t argue with her, just nodding slightly. What Trish said wasn’t untrue.

“She was toxic for you,” she offered quietly. “But she did love you, as much as she could love anyone besides herself. She was proud of you. She was shit at showing it, but she was. You were her shining star.”

“I know,” Trish said softly, exhaling. “I don’t know if I should be trying to remember the good times, like when she would tuck me in at night and tell me I was the best and most beautiful girl in the world, or the bad times, like when she would slap my face and call me a fat, selfish bitch. But maybe the best thing is to remember it all. Balance.”

Jessica nodded again, putting a hand hesitantly on Trish’s knee. Trish covered it with hers, squeezed, and then entwined their fingers.

“She loved you too,” Trish told her, unknowingly repeating Luke’s words. “I know it probably didn’t seem like it to you. But she did. I know she did. She wouldn’t waste her breath criticizing someone as much as she criticized you, if that person wasn’t someone she loved.”

This was the first time that Jessica had really considered this, and the first time it rang true. She exhaled, accepting the idea, and a bittersweet tightness spread through her chest as she understood that this was something that both she and Dorothy had never expressed and now never could.

Trish leaned her head against Jessica’s shoulder, shifting to settle her body against her. Jessica inhaled sharply when Trish’s shoulder inadvertently jostled the side of her breast, not having expected the tender pain the slight gesture invoked.

“Ow,” she muttered, shifting away from her enough that Trish could remain leaned on her, but wasn’t touching anywhere near her chest. “Hm, maybe I pulled something.”

“Pulled something? Did you break a rib?” Trish asked, concerned, and starting to lift her head. “Did you go out and fight people last night?”

“No,” Jessica shrugged. “Pretty sure you can’t break a boob. Probably PMSing. Or strained a chest muscle from puking. You probably actually don’t want to get this close to me, whatever I’ve had lately is probably contagious.”

Trish’s lips twitched then, and her eyes danced with amusement that she tried unsuccessfully to hide. Jessica stared at her.

“What, we’re so juvenile now we laugh at the word boob? What do you call yours, mammary glands?”

Trish giggled, shaking her head.

“You just aren’t adding things up, are you, Jess?”

“What is there to add?” Jessica demanded, more confused than ever. “When did we change the subject to math?”

“Jess,” Trish said patiently, still fighting a smile. “Think about this. You’re throwing up. You’re wanting to eat weird things and not drink. You cried in front of Danny yesterday-“

“Hey,” Jessica protested, automatically defensive at the mention of crying, but Trish spoke over her.

“You’ve peed three times since you’ve been over here, and now, your boob hurts. Are you starting to see the picture?”

“Yeah, you spend way too much time paying attention to the shit I do,” Jessica grumbled, not seeing at all. “Why are you tracking everything I do, you weirdo?”

“Oh my god, you are the least self aware person I’ve ever met,” Trish groaned, shaking her head. Putting both hands on Jessica’s shoulders, she looked her directly in the eye, speaking slowly and distinctly. “Jessica. Honey. You need to take a pregnancy test.”

“What? I’m not pregnant!” Jessica exclaimed, automatically stunned and dismissive of the idea. “I would know if I was pregnant, Trish, please!”

“Jessica, Danny already told me that you are,” Trish started, which only set her off into sputtering indignation.

“DANNY told you?! He’s been in a parallel fucking world, how the fuck would Danny know a damn thing about whether or not there’s a human being hatching in me?!”

“He saw the baby’s chi,” Trish explained patiently. Giving her shoulders another little squeeze before letting them go, she stood, then gestured for the door. “Right, I can’t let this level of denial go on any longer. Here’s fifty bucks. Go to the pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test. Two of them, at least, the most accurate brands. Go home and take them, and if I’m wrong, you can laugh at me all you want.”

“Baby’s chi- what crap,” Jessica muttered, shaking her head as she stood, taking the money. “Whatever, I’ll buy the pregnancy test, but I’ll buy a few bottles of booze too. So I can celebrate my not-pregnant state once I prove you wrong.”

But an hour later, she was standing frozen in the bathroom of her and Luke’s apartment, staring at the very clearly marked positive of the third pregnancy test she had taken. Two positives had not been enough to convince her, and she had actually gone out to buy another of a different brand from a different pharmacy before she could accept the outcome. But three positives was evidence enough to come to a conclusion.

Danny and his stupid chi was right. Apparently, Jessica was pregnant.

Her hands were shaking when she picked up the phone to call Luke. “Um, when are you coming home? We need to talk about something.”

#jessica jones #jessica jones roleplay #luke cage #luke cage roleplay #trish walker #trish walker roleplay

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junipersgarden · 4 years

Text

metanoia 4. | Hijack

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: After the intense and insane day of Venice flooding again from that gigantic water monster, Y/N and Peter want things to go back to normal but Nick Fury has other plans...

WORD COUNT: 3528 words

WARNINGS: A singular swear word from Nick Fury

a/n: hello everyone!! here is the next part of my series ‘metanoia’ and i hope you enjoy!!

[NOT MY GIF]

...

Inside Room 11 of Hotel de Matteis

...

from: F/N ✌️

HYDRO WHAT NOW?!

from: you

Hydro-Man. apparently he's a sailor who suddenly

got water powers from an experiment or smth.

from: F/N ✌️

science. always the cause.

just y/n/n, are you okay?

we saw it all on the news and that 'thing' and what it did...

from you:

i'm okay and safe. everyone is and thankfully,

not one got hurt.

are you alright?

from: F/N ✌️

it was just, a massive scare.

after the whole 'blip' and everything and now this?

we literally can't have a break! and there's no one to protect us!

from: you

yeah ik. everything's just been chaotic.

im certain things will change tho and will get better.

plus, we have each other and pretty sure Spidey and Saviour as well.

from: F/N ✌️

guess we do... thanks y/n/n

anyways, i suggest you call your mum back or text her.

she was in hysterics and was screaming at Harrington thru the phone.

was pretty funny ngl, well without the situation.

from: you

will do.

i gtg now sorry; Harrington wants us up and early.

ill get to mum in a bit and will tell you more i promise.

gn nub!

from: F/N ✌️

you better... > : )

gn geek! : P

Slumping against the door, you sink to the ground and drop your phone lazily into your lap. The moonlight shines into your face from your open window, the night's cool breeze drifts and ruffle the worn down curtains.

I just want a break.

Your mind wonders and races with flashbacks of today's events; the screaming and collapsing buildings, water rapidly running and wrecking the streets of Venice and Venetian's homes and everyone; it's only the first day of the Europe Trip and it's already a mess... typical luck.

A vibration from your lap surprises you as you jolt upward lightly. The screen illuminates with its bright light directly into your eyes with the message notification: 1 New Message.

from: UNKNOWN

We need your assistance Saviour.

Meet at these coordinates and go alone.

You have 10 minutes to arrive and no later.

Tell no one.

Examining the order of numbers, you pin point the exact location and clicked off your phone; the location was underneath a bridge for whatever reason and is only a 5 minute flight with the suit.

"Hey ARIS?"

"Good evening Ms. L/N, how may I assist you this evening?" Your AI responds, blinking a tiny blue light from your bracelet.

"Nothing at the moment yet. How's your status?"

"My circuits have successfully mended and the suit and myself are in full operation. I apologise for the inconvenience earlier."

"Wasn't your fault ARIS. Anyways, apparently I have a few missed calls?"

"Indeed you do. I apologise for not alerting you; I was in Power Nap Protocol as requested. You have approximately 20 missed calls from Mum, 10 missed calls from Dad, 25 missed calls from Y/F/N and 5 from Pepper Potts."

"A-any voicemails?" Your voice quivers with a hint of fear.

"Every missed call contains a voicemail except the 5 calls from Pepper Potts. Shall I send anything to the following?"

"No thank you ARIS. I'll call Mum and Dad myself." You finish and switch ARIS off.

Grabbing your phone, you unlock it and stare again at the anonymous message and groan.

from: you

i'll be there in 20.

They can wait. First, I need to call Mum and Dad and then-

"That canal water today was filthy and full of dangerous bacteria." Mr. Dell's voice abruptly interrupted your thoughts.

Then a shower and THEN I go to the bridge or whatever it is.

Standing up onto your feet, you lean against the door and go into contacts and as your finger hovers over 'Mum ❤️', a slight sense of pain hits you as you stare intensely at the name 'Pepper Potts'.

Shrugging the feeling off, you press onto the contact name and place the ringing phone to your ear, bracing for her yells and screams of relief and anger.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The sound of water rippling against the boat's motor is the only thing Peter can seem to hear; after wishing Y/N a goodnight, Ned had started bombarding Peter with questions about the 'Water Monster' and what he as Spider-Man was going to do.

Sure Peter still had an anxious and itching feeling about the monster but all he wanted to do was rehearse his speech of his declaration of love to Y/N and score the entire day with her in Paris.

But of course that was all ruined when Ned was shot by Nick Fury with a tranquilizer and told him about more bad guys possibly lurking around. What a great way to start a 'Spider-Man free vacation'.

With his suit on, Peter stood next to Fury and gripped onto its side; in front of him and Fury was an array of monitors which appeared to be measuring amounts of frequencies within the area.

"Stark left these for you." Fury perks up and nudges a box at Peter's direction.

Carefully and with caution, Peter takes the small, rectangular box into his hands and observes it; the outside had speckles of its beige brown paint chipped away from age. Peter gently lifted the lid and in front of him was none other than Tony Stark's famed glasses with his Stark Industries card placed beneath.

Peter stared at the glasses and felt a tinge of ache of grief but in it, a feeling of content rushed over it; Peter had Tony's glasses. Peter Parker was given the possession to multibillionare, genius, literal saviour of the Universe, the Iron Man and Tony Stark's iconic and ever expensive and high end tech glasses.

Brushing over the box lightly, Peter smiled sadly at them, remembering to all the times he had seen Tony wearing them; from on the news, front pages of magazines, wearing them when he was around and now, they no longer had that owner anymore; they didn't have Tony and neither did Peter. And neither did the world or Y/N.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown." Fury quotes and turns to Peter and even though Peter's mask was shielding his face, the raised creases of his frowned face of confusion were evidently clear as he snapped from his trance. "Stark said you wouldn't get that because it's not a Star Wars reference." A dry laugh escapes Fury's lips as he turns back away from Peter and concentrates on the boat.

"Kid if you peep one more Star Wars reference today I'm going to take your suit."

"But it's May 4th Mr Stark!"

"I do not care; right now you're in my house and there will be no Star Wars references."

Peter huffed out in irritation as he continued to focus on readjusting his webshooters on his suit.

Tony let out a chuckle at Peter's demeanor and how this kid basically came dressed as Han Solo just for this one day of the year; the commitment was real and even though Tony would never tell anyone, he loved seeing Peter passionate about the things he loves.

Working in the lab was one of Peter's favourite past times; spending quality time with Tony, tinkering with his suit and just talking was something Peter loved about the Tower; it was his second home to him.

A knock from the door caused Tony and Peter to look up.

"Ms. L/N requests to enter." FRIDAY notifies.

"Grant access." Tony permits.

The doors of the lab open to Y/N holding steaming bowls of something that smelt amazing which wafted in.

"Brought you geeks some sustenance before I head home." Y/N waltzed in and placed the two bowls next to the both of them. Y/N saw something was different about Peter; not his hair or general appearance just his clothing but the closer Y/N looked at the details in his outfit, a name popped into her head.

"Peter are you Hans Solo?"

Tony bursted into laughter as Peter hid his face to hide his red cheeks. "F-For May 4th?"

"Guess that makes me Leia?" Y/N poked her space buns in her hair. "I wanted to wear space buns to get my hair out my face and didn't even check the date, coincidences man." Y/N giggled at the convenience.

"But Tony in all honesty, don't you think Fury looks a bit like that guy from Star Wars... what's his name-"

"Mace Windu?"

"YEAH HIM PETER!"

"...I don't remember what he looks like... FRIDAY, can you get a photo of Mace Windu?"

Observing the photo displayed in front of him, Tony wiped the hologram away and looked as if he was in deep thought.

"...Well yeah he does-"

"Incoming call: Nick Fury." FRIDAY chimed and that was when the 3 of them lost it.

God I miss him and Y/N...

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Lose the mask, everyone here has seen you without it. You don't wanna be fanning around and breathing through a spandex mask for no good reason."

Trailing behind Nick Fury, stops for a brief second and takes his mask off and as he alters his senses to his surroundings, Peter is met with sight of SHIELD agents, alongside with their small set up with crates all around the joint with weapons and technology lying around as it were nothing.

By hearing Fury's footsteps echoing through the underground base, the SHIELD agents turn to face him and Peter with stoic and intimidating faces.

"Over there we have Maria Hill." Fury points to a woman with light brown hair tied into a ponytail who was busy on a computer, looked up for a split second at Peter to acknowledge his existence before getting back to work.

"That, is Dmitri." Fury gestures to a man wearing a leather jacket, seated on top of a crate as he quietly loaded his rifle.

"And this, is Mr. Beck."

As Nick Fury stepped to the side, Peter abruptly slowed to a complete stop as he gazed at the familiar figure and outfit in front of him.

"Mysterio?"

"What?" The man questioned at what Peter said.

"Doesn't matter- it's just what my friends are calling you." Peter stuttered.

"Well," As 'Mysterio' began to approach Peter, 'Mysterio' extended his hand to Peter, indicating to shake his hand.

Peter got the message as he started walking and the two met and shook the other's hand.

"You can call me Quentin." Quentin revealed his name as the two greeted one another.

"You handled yourself well out there today," Quentin implied to the earlier events of the day, "I saw what you did with the tower. We could use someone like you on my world." Quentin shrugged away from Peter.

"T-thanks... wait I'm sorry- your world?"

"He's from Earth, just not from ours." A voice answers from behind him.

Following the voice, Peter jumps by being startled and whips his head around quickly; walking from the entrance and to everyone else is none other than-

"You're late Saviour." Fury visibly annoyed and unimpressed exhales out.

"As my good friend Albert said, time is relative my friend." Saviour sasses back and skips straight past Fury's daggering eyes.

"S-Saviour?! W-what are you doing h-here? Oh god, now you know what I look like-"

"I've known for a while Parker and besides, you're not the only superhero SHIELD wants their hands on; Fury contacted me a while back after... Tony. And don't worry, New York is under control without me there." Saviour teases and strolls next to Beck, leans against the desk with arms crossed.

"There a multiple realities Peter; this is Earth Dimension- 616 and I'm from Earth Dimension- 833." Quentin further evaluates.

"I'm sorry, you're saying there's a multiverse?" Peter jogs up to Beck and Saviour, full of awe and amazement from his discovery. "Because I just thought that was theoretical and that changes everything and how we understand the initial singularity, we're talking about an eternal inflation system and how does that even work with all the quantum because it's insane-" Peter's rambling falters as he sees Nick, Maria and Dmitri looking at him funny.

"S-sorry, it's just really cool-"

"Don't ever apologise for being the smartest person in the room." Quentin encourages and sends a soft smile to Peter.

"Anyway Beck, wanna fill in Spidey and myself about whatever the hell that was today?" Saviour perks up.

A diagram of a black hole suddenly emerged as everyone gathered around.

"They were born in stable orbits within black holes, these creatures formed from the primary elements: air, water, fire, earth."

As Quentin talked, the hologram changed alongside with what he was explaining, showing images of the creatures and their general appearance.

"The Science division had a- technical name, we just called them, Elementals."

"Versions of them exist throughout our mythologies." Maria Hill speaks up as the Elemental hologram changes into their mythology forms.

"Turns out the myths are real-"

"Like Thor," Peter interrupts Quentin as he pays close attention to the presentation, "Thor was a myth and now I study him in my physics class."

"These myths, are threats." Fury clarifies as he walks away from the scene as once more it changes into an image of Earth.

"They first materialized on my Earth many years ago. We mobilized and fought them but with each battle they grew and got stronger. I was apart of the last battalion that tried to stop them. All we did was prevent the inevitable."

"And now they're here and attacking the same coordinates; our satellites confirm it." Maria adds.

"You both can thank Beck for destroying the other 3; there's only 1 left: Fire."

"The strongest one of all... the one that destroyed my Earth. It's the one that took my family." Quentin mutters as the apparition of Earth is now scorned and tarnished in red. The red light reflects Quentin's face full of guilt and remorse, twiddling around his wedding ring on his finger.

"I'm sorry..." Peter murmurs.

"So where's this fire Elemental? Do we even know where it likely is?" Saviour bluntly asks.

"It'll be in Prague in approximately 48 hours." Maria responds.

"We have one mission: kill it and the both of you are coming with us." Fury demands.

Peter's face falls as he faces Maria in disbelief and asks a second time if she said Prague.

Saviour's posture lifts as the struggle and anxiety surfaces Peter as the colour from his face vanishes.

"Listen Fury this all seems like big time, like huge superhero kinda stuff and... and I mean, I'm just a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man sir."

"Bitch please, you've been to space!"

"I know but that was by accident, sir come on, I've seen Saviour in action many times and I'll admit is probably better than me for this but there's gotta be someone else you can use." Peter protests and moves closer to Fury, "What about Thor?"

"Off world."

"Okay um, Doctor Strange."

"Unavailable." Maria pipes in.

"Captain Marvel!"

"Don't invoke her name." Fury shakes his head slightly.

"I really wanna help I do but if my Aunt finds out I left my class trip, she's gonna kill me and if I'm seen like this in Europe after the Washington Monument, my whole class will figure out who I am and then the whole world will figure out who I am... and then I'm done."

"Fury if it helps," Saviour steps up and walks next to Peter, "I'm pretty sure I can manage without Parker swinging by my side."

"Okay." Fury blankly answers, scaring Peter and Saviour a tiny bit from the lack of expression, "I understand."

Taken back by his approval, Peter and Saviour share a look with one another before going back to Fury.

"I'm sorry, what?" Peter with doubt inquires.

"Why don't you get back before your teacher's miss you and it becomes suspicious. Dmitri, why don't you take him back to the hotel."

"Thank you Mr. Fury and thank you Saviour." Peter sends a soft smile to Saviour and places a hand on the suits left hand shoulder. "I believe in you and good luck." Peter whispers only to Saviour before wishing everyone else out loud good luck.

"See ya kid." Quentin farewells Peter and watches him and Dmitri exit out.

"You really let him go Fury? No strings attached?" Saviour scoffs in astonishment by Peter's success to get himself out of SHIELD business.

Fury stands up and moves to Saviour with a stern look on his face.

"Of course not."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Bzzzz...

Groaning from your exhaustion, you roll over and press on your phone's screen multiple times in attempt to hit the snooze button.

Last night had been a rollercoaster: Peter and Mysterio are working with SHIELD with you, Fury made you stay back extra late to run through diagnostics which gave you around 4 hours sleep tops and the jetlag wasn't helping your situation at all.

Sitting up in bed, you try to stretch out your tiredness and peer to see MJ reading a book in one hand and a mug within the other, sitting on her bed with her black converses draped to the side.

Greeting MJ a 'good morning', you lift yourself up from the safety and warmth of the bed covers and slipped into the bathroom and changed for the day: rocking a pair of navy blue jeans and grey t-shirt for a casual but yet stylish look and throwing a little something over the top.

MJ mentioned there was breakfast downstairs (breakfast being cereal), you quickly did your hair and retreated down to grab a bite and sat next to Yasmin and Zoha and afterwards, heading upstairs to brush teeth and pack.

You and MJ both gave each other a hand carrying luggage down and delivering it outside.

"Oh I forgot my backpack I'll be back." You call behind as you jog back up to your room.

Rushing quickly into the room, you sweep up your backpack and stuff your phone charger inside and as you whirl around, you collide into something and hear a bang.

"I- Peter?"

"H-Hey Y/N! Sorry I was hanging up a call with Aunt May and I-"

"Pete it's fine you dork." You can't help but giggle at how flustered he is.

Peter's cheeks glow faintly pink as he shyly smiles.

"I got yelled at by my Mum and Dad for not answering the phone and I'm 98% sure I'm grounded when I get back home."

"Oh that's not good..."

"Guess not but eh, stuff happens. How are you though Peter? Feels like I haven't talked to you in a while."

"Y-Yeah... I'm good. You?"

"Yeah guess I'm alright. I'm really excited for Paris today though."

"Favourite destination?"

"Hell yeah! It's gonna be great but we gotta haul our stuff or Harrington will lose his mind." You joke.

"Oh yeah! That's why I was heading down." Peter swings his suitcase in front of him with a sly beam.

Too cute.

You and Peter talked for a far while before actually going back down the stairs and outside to everyone else.

"I'm going to get you a Vitamin C pill, you cannot get sick okay babe?" You hear Betty's distant voice as you and Peter round the door.

As you're about to walk out the door, Peter tugs your sleeve before you hit the outside and perplexed as you are, you pivot to look at him, giving him your attention.

"Before we go, I was just wondering if you wanted to um, sit next to me on whatever we're transporting on?" Peter fumbles and averts his eyes to the ground.

"Of course! I'll save you a seat Pete." You playfully punch his arm.

Peter rubs the back of his neck and lets out a laugh of relief.

You both walk out and see Betty frantically trying to receive a Vitamin C pill.

"I better go help her before she explodes." You suggest and inform Peter.

"Y-Yeah. See you later?"

"See you later!" You wave and leave Peter and Ned alone.

Peter watches Y/N tap Betty on the shoulder as Betty freaks out over the situation and remembers of why Ned is feeling 'sick'.

"Hey man, are you sure you're good?"

"Dude! I'm fine! Okay don't worry! Seriously, getting tranqed in the neck by Nick Fury, probably the coolest thing to happen to me anyway."

"It is pretty cool." Peter admits as the both perform their handshake. "I'm just glad we don't have to go to Prague-"

"Good news: we're going to Prague!" Mr. Harrington announces with a wide grin plastered on his face.

Everyone buzzes around 'whats' and 'huhs' as everyone glances around.

"Tour company called and upgraded us. Should've heard I gave them hell now come on!" Harrington begins to march as everyone scrambles for their belongings.

"Check out our upgraded ride!" Harrington chirps as the class sees a black bus with a man holding a sign saying 'Midtown High'.

Peter immediately recognizes the guy to be Dmitri from last night and gulps down his irateness.

"I think Nick Fury just hijacked our summer vacation."

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