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uwumessenger · 3 years

Text

random headcanons i have for each om! character teehee

hi it's been a while since ive posted some hcs bc uni has been kicking my a$$! luckily i only have a few papers to tidy up and im done. here r some hcs for each obey me character that ive accumulated over the past few months wink wonk

most are random but some constants you'll find are what i think they smell like, languages they can speak (other than their native (demon/angel) and eng/jp), and music tastes !

lucifer

i have a strong feeling that he showers twice a day: in the morning after waking up and at night before going to bed

his cologne is probably the type that will last in an elevator for like a week after he uses it once. i dont think this mf ever smells like anything other than his cologne

has a secret folder on his phone of semi-nudes and other scandalous pics from when he felt sexy at the time omg

aside from demon language/eng/jp he can speak french and knows latin

listens to classical stuff yea but he also listens to diavolos mixtapes (re: diavolo's section)

not a fan of sweets but will eat sweet things when craving

really bland sense of humor...borderline cringey 😭✋🏻

mammon

has gone to google images and searched for "inspirational quotes tumblr" "gold aesthetic tumblr" & "relatable crush post tumblr" then reposts it onto his socials or just taps thru them and giggles bc he relates

his cologne doesnt last as long as lucifers and probably smells common. he has to reapply a lot but it's a people pleasing smell. it's cheaper hence the constant reapplying

he probably does have an expensive bottle but is the type to totally overspray...eek

he is canonically a car guy 🥲 and probably tells the one in his room good morning & good night + kisses the hood every once in a while. has tons of car magazines

he doesnt really speak other languages but has attempted to learn spanish before

listens to whatever is on the radio. doesnt rly stan anyone but he eventually will listen to mc's playlist and mc's playlist ONLY

levi

lurks on mc's socials ALL THE TIMEEEE like he will rewatch ur stories and scroll thru ur feed and overanalyze ur tweets/rts or blog posts. if ur mc isnt the type to use sns much he still googles ur name all the damn time just to find any sites u might be on fjdjdjdjskks

probably streams on whatever youtube or twitch devildom site equivalent there is, but only has like 40 or so followers. which he is okay with!

until he sees someone else who gets more attention than him. then the envy starts kicking in bad. especially if they suck 🧍🏻‍♀️

classic gamer boy smell. you know, sweat, tears, must, and (sometimes) axe deodorant. lucifer has to do a scent check before he goes out to any event & lets him use his cologne. how sweet!

kpop stan!! more girl groups than anything and his ults are probably GIRLS GENERATION, wonder girls, twice, loona, & red velvet

cried when ioi disbanded and refused to leave his room. the only thing u could hear was downpour on loop at full blast

can also speak korean & communicate in echolocation like dolphins 😏

satan

listens to country music you cant change my mind

smells like whatever environment he is in. he doesnt really have a designated smell just throws some deodorant on and goes about his day.

he's sooooo bad at driving...gets road rage way too often so his license has been REVOKED

but hes totally a backseat driver. needs to be sedated on long trips

do not let him watch finding nemo when luke asks to watch it. it's not worth it. he will cause mass destruction.

if he was a human or lived long term in the human world he totally has the ability to be a doctor

is studying as many languages as possible, but he mostly knows latin & french & german etc etc. wants to learn all the dead languages out of curiousity

asmo

dont think this mf has ever held down a relationship. ever

he doesnt compromise much & is not willing to change his lifestyle to fit an s/o into it. you keep up with how he lives or it just isnt meant to be (but dont worry! he'll eventually learn...maybe,,,,)

has the hardest time out of everyone when it comes to breaking bad habits

his smell varies bc he uses a variety of perfumes (whatever is the most popular at the time) but he probably sticks to floral and fresh scents. he never uses generic people pleaser scents like mammon

listens to electropop, mainstream pop, & some alternative rock

as for languages he too knows french, spanish, italian, etc. in general, if it's a romance language he knows it!

opposite of lucifer in the sense where he loves sweets and will refrain from eating too many bitter things

i think we all know that asmo is the biggest rockstar of the group! he's probably been in a boy band at least once, but now he makes his own music

has tried to teach mammon how to sing once. ended up in a broken piano and bleeding ears...

beel

i feel like he is SO SHY

like unless ur close to him he will not start conversations or anything

i think he listens to r&b a lot ! and jazz 😎 maybe rock as well

smells like ur typical athlete with undertones of wet wipes. he carries them around bc he likes to clean his hands before he eats & is prepared for when theres no sink nearby

he can drive and he drives really well. no rough turns, parallel parks perfectly, and never has problems with merging

driving with beel is probably really soothing. left hand is steering the other is gripping ur thigh 😫

dont think hes really fluent in any other language but hes probably semi fluent in korean because levi wanted beel to help him out

definitely know how to order food in practically every language tho HAHAHA

belphie

he reminds me of randall from monsters inc

smells kinda musty IM SORRY but not the way levi does hes more like the kind of musty u feel or smell when it's a shitty morning

but that's only because hes so lazy, when he cleans up hes like satan

has definitely murdered multiple people before. mc is not the first 😐✋🏻

with that being said belphie has been put into prison at least twice when visiting the human world, the mf had such a strong hatred for humans theres no way he never got into trouble before

lucifer probably broke him out and they used the pen thingies from men in black to erase everyones memory of that 🙄

dont think he listens to anything other than music that'll put him to sleep. really likes lazy song by bruno mars but thinks that bruno mars put too much effort into the song. should have been one acapella verse and then finish

similar to beel hes only semi fluent in one language, probably french bc of lucifer. doesnt remember much but knows a couple of lullabies and bedtime stories

the sandman used to be his bff until they drifted. they do, however, like and comment on each other's sns posts.

diavolo

once he found out who nicki minaj was he became her #1 stan

def an ariana grande stan too 😌

choreographs dances when hes stressed...idk just seems like a diavolo thing to do

also makes rly bad soundcloud rap music sometimes. turns to poetry when hes feeling emo but only lucifer knows this. barbatos is suspicious of him but doesnt have enough evidence to confirm.

his dad is like hudson abadeer from adventure time aka marceline's dad? something must have influenced him to want to unite the 3 realms + he would need the approval to do so, so his dad must be more chill than all the others before him 🧍🏻‍♀️ IDK ok anyway

currently going through his hamilton phase bc of mc. whether mc's intent was to get him hooked onto it or just to explain it bc of something he saw online, he tells everyone that he found out abt it bc of mc!

this man cannot drive his skills are only second to jumin han

not too fond of many languages but knows the widely spoken ones like spanish, mandarin, etc. if it's taught in high school he knows it

smells like a las vegas casino. not sure why but i feel like he does. but there's also an interesting & nice smell to him if he embraces you. it's a smell you cant quite identify. but it smells nostalgic, it's mysterious, and it's tempting.

barbatos

very calm demeanor but underneath hes WILD hes probably done everything at least once oof

he just has a lot of control and stability over himself (must be nice!)

on a more angsty note i feel like he might have had his heartbroken sO BAD IDK he is hurting and maybe that's why hes so willing to obey diavolo and not abuse his time lord power thingies bc he learned his lesson the hard way

mans is so smart he knows every language you could switch languages mid conversation with him and he wouldnt be thrown off. he'd probably start speaking it too.

BUT HE SPEAKS VIET P E R F E C T L Y

listens to the same stuff as lucifer but also likes eminem. likes the movie 8 mile but criticized it heavily

have you ever been to a chinese herb shop? naturally, he smells like that. his room probably smells like it too. he doesnt really have a significant smell like some of the others

when he bakes he smells like whatever hes baking tho

one of the few out of everyone listed to have been able to travel to literally everywhere

solomon

was probably on kitchen nightmares once, but only to get feedback from chef gordon ramsay. then he used his magic to prevent the episode from airing...

was in an orchestra, one of the best times of his life. played the violin. asmo watched him in the audience once, but didnt approach him until well after that performance.

he CANNOT sing. he can, however, rap.

doesnt listen to music. he listens to podcasts! but every now and then he turns on background music, but prefers it to be instrumental stuff

never wears sunglasses. also does not have a driver's license. cannot drive a regular car. could maybe fly an airplane.

due to his immortality he has learned almost every language to exist, but finds himself speaking mandarin the most. knows most dialects too

similar smell to barbatos but u can also smell some sunscreen on him too. like, generic beach day suncreen

he has a lot of pact marks, so he once had the idea to match foundation to his skin. it took him two weeks but he eventually perfected a combination. yes he will help u find ur perfect shade if u ask him to

simeon

another country music man. has also made a tiktok or two to that one song that goes "he cant even bait a hook." they are private tho

angel country music exists and simeon invented it

if he visits the human world and wears more causal clothing he probably tucks his shirt into his pants

wears a speedo at the beach i tell u, speedo at the beach

he can speak german...i can feel it

uses his pointer finger to type and holds the phone like 2 inches away from his face so sometimes his nose will push a key hence all his typos

has no signature smell. he simply smells like your favorite scent all the time. if multiple people are around him at once, everyone smells a different smell. it's pretty rad

"what does he smell like to himself?" u may be asking. hmm...a church? 💀

luke

his first pet was a goldfish and a few months before the exchange program happened, he was given a koi pond!

secretly likes hanging out with levi sometimes just to play with henry. makes him miss his pet fish back home

so his favorite movie is probably finding nemo and he threw a fit when nemo touched the butt

luke is probably learning german bc of simeon, though he'd like to learn more of the dead languages just for fun

i dont think he listens to music often or has any preferences, he just listens to whatever is playing on the radio

but he finds himself listening to the music mc listens to

smells like freshly baked goods all the time. or fresh laundry. but like, not combined. just depends on the day

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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71. you’re famous and you want to hide out in my bookstore which is fine except the stupid paparazzi won’t leave and now there’s a photo of us in the tabloids and they’re printing misinformation and why the fuck won’t you clear this up on your twitter account

Sternclay, NSFW, please!

Here you go! Let's end this round of meet uglies with a bang

The post-holiday slump is always the worst; everyone maxed out their credit cards last month and doesn’t want to buy anything, and the tourists won’t be back until the spring. It’s not that he’s concerned about keeping the lights on; Bookworms is popular and has a prime spot downton. It’s that he’s bored out of his mind.

All his orders for the day are in, everything’s been received and shelved, and he’s running out of things to tidy. If he’s lucky, the clouds that have been threatening a snowstorm since this morning will burst and drive some people to shelter among the stacks.

Dingdong

Thank the lord.

“Welcome to Bookworms, can I help you?”

The man stays by the door, peering through the glass onto the street while pulling off his beanie, “Huh? Oh, uh, nope, just coming in to, uh, get out of the cold.” He turns, and two realizations slap Joseph in the face.

One: this is the hottest man he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Two: He’s seen this man dozens of times, just never in person.

Barclay Cobb is a Food Network darling who got his start on Youtube, sharing recipes from vintage cookbooks he found at garage sales. That’s not why he’s starstruck, but it is probably why the taller man is hiding in the craft books alcove and keeps nervously looking his way.

“I won’t tell anyone you’re here, Mr. Cobb.”

“Phew” the man sighs, unzips his jacket, “thanks man. Thought I’d be bundled up enough that no one would spot me while I was out, but I didn’t get my hat on in time coming out of the Chinese place down the block.”

“I love that spot, they have the best beer-braised duck.”

“Yeah, I always stop by when I’m in town, they’re food is worth getting photographed for.”

It’s odd, everything he’s read suggests chef Cobb is friendly and warm when approached by fans in public.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate that people like my shows but, I, uh, sometimes I just want to eat or walk down the street without someone taking pictures of me.”

“Do you want to head into the back sections? There’s no windows in that half of the store.”

“Sweet, thanks. Uh, would it be cool if I autographed any books of mine you have? I like doing that, means I can send a little business towards smaller stores.”

“Of course. Here, the cookbooks are on this wall.” He slips into his office to grab a sharpie while Barclay pulls a stack of books and sits down on the floor. As the scratching of the pen fills the air, Joseph takes a trip to the paranormal and occult section, coming back with three copies of The Case for Bigfoot.”

“Y’know, not everyone stocks these.” Barclay smiles as he adds the paperbacks to the pile.

“Which is terrible business; you’re just as famous in the cryptozoology community as you are in the foodie one. This is the best book on bigfoot ever written, and I should know; I run a, um, a blog where I review books on paranormal topics.”

“You a true believer?” The cook blows on his signature in the copy of Desserts for All Seasons

“More an optimistic skeptic; your book is perfect because you make your case using actual evidence instead of reporting the same ten, poorly verified stories that everyone includes in their books. And I appreciated that you included recipes from the places you visited; that was a very nice touch.”

“Funny story about that” Barclay freezes as the front door opens. There’s definitely more than one person coming in, and when Joseph pokes his head around the corner he sees fifteen people, all with cameras or phones.

“Shit. You might want to hide in my office for a few minutes.”

By the time the crowd reaches him, Joseph is almost done re-shelving the signed books.

“Good afternoon, let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Uh, yeah, we do, someone saw Barclay Cobb in your store-”

“Strange, we’ve only had one customer” he winces as someone’s shoulder knocks a hardcover off its display, “I didn’t get a good look at them before they went downstairs.” He tips his head at the staircase to the YA and Graphic Novel sections and is promptly knocked into the shelf as the throng hurries away.

“Come on, I can get you out through the back door” Joseph whispers to the Red Dust on his Soul poster on his office door. Barclay is remarkably quiet for a man his size as they sneak across the floor and let frigid, January air rush into the store.

“Thanks man” Barclay whispers, “I owe you one.” He sets a big hand on Joseph’s shoulder, squeezes it with a wink, then pulls on his hat and disappears into a crowd coming off at the bus stop.

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

Joseph always comes in through the back, flipping on lights as he goes, so the sea of bodies pressed to the front windows like a zombie horde surprises him. He knows Barclay tweeted about the signed copies, but this seems like excessive excitement even for a celebrity chef.

“Morning, Joseph--whoa, what the heck?” Aubrey clocks in without taking her eyes off the crowd, “why is everyone here this early.”

“Fan culture. I think.” The registers finish waking up, “I’ll pay holiday rates if you open that door for me.”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, unlocks the double doors, and is swallowed up so quickly he worries she might have been trampled until she emerges near the greeting cards. Some people swarm the cookbooks, but an alarming number cluster around the counter, all shouting for his attention.

“How long have you been seeing Chef Cobb?”

“What?, I, I’m not-”

“Does he often visit your store?”

“No! He just came by yesterday!” There’s a horrible clatter of all the books on display near the door taking each other out like dominoes.

“Do you fuck in the backroom all the time?”

“Oh come on” He pushes past the man who asked that, deals with shouting all the way to his office and slams the door. A quick Google search for “Barclay Cobb” brings up a blurry photo of them in the alley, Barclays hand on his shoulder, and multiple headlines speculating on why the reclusive chef and author has chosen a nobody bookstore employee (he’s the owner, damn it) as his lover.

Okay, there’s a logical, easy fix to this.

He opens the door enough to speak, whistles so everyone will be quiet and listen to him, “I’m sorry, there’s been a misunderstanding. Mr. Cobb isn’t in any kind of relationship with me; he just came into the store yesterday for some peace and quiet. So, if you’re looking for information about him, this is not the place for it. If you’re looking for the signed books, the cookbooks are there, and the paranormal section is just around that corner.” He gives his best customer service smile as the paparazzi exchange perplexed glances.

“...Is it true he bought you this store?”

“Wh--no! We rent this space.”

“From him?”

“Arggh!” He closes the door, slumps against it and cards his fingers through his hair. As he contemplates closing for the day, he spots a little, copper card on his desk. It’s Barclay’s, which is what he expected, but when he flips it over there’s a message scribbled in pen.

Main St Hotel, room 503, here until Monday.

He pulls out his phone, tells Aubrey she’s allowed to get the crowd out by any means necessary except for fire, and elbows his way out into the winter air.

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

Barclay almost purrs when he peers through the peephole in the hotel door; Joseph, as his nametag read, is standing on the carpet, looking twice as handsome as he did yesterday. His cheeks are even a little pink, and Barclay has some thoughts on how to make that blush deepen.

“Hey, glad you found-”

Joseph holds up his phone, screen in Barclays face, “please fix this.”

“Oh fuck.” He ushers him in, “I’m so sorry, I thought they’d stopped doing this shit.”

“No, and they’re fucking up my inventory as a result.”

“On it, lemme text my assistant, she’s good at drafting these kind of messages.”

“Thank the lord. Right, thank you for that, I’ll go now.”

“Wait” Barclay reminds his instincts that blocking the door is rude, “do you wanna stay a few minutes? You look kinda stressed.”

“Because my store is being overrun!” Joseph snaps, then takes a deep breath and straightens his sleeves, “I’m sorry, that wasn’t called for, this morning has just been a mess. And it, um, it’s a little bittersweet to have people thinking I could land a hot chef when I can’t get past a first date with most people. Um, sorry. Too much information. That’s a bad habit of mine.”

Barclay tucks his hands into his pants pockets, “About that. Y’know how I left my card?”

Blue eyes blink, then brighten, “I thought that might be the reason but I dismissed it as wishful thinking.”

“Nope. A guy who's hot, nerdy, and competent enough to sneak me away from the paparazzi? Sign me the fuck up.”

“I’m not opposed to a, um, tryst, but I really, really need to get back to the store, I can’t abandon Aubrey to deal with this mess on her own, that’s not fair, and now we’ll have to reorder things too....” He laughs, a tense sound, “good lord, I get a chance to fuck a celebrity crush and I’m turning it down for work.”

“Hey” Barclay sets his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, “it’s okay. You’re not the first guy to be married to his job. But, uh, out of curiosity, you got any vacation days to spare?”

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

“This is all yours?” Joseph takes in the sprawling farm as Barclay unlocks the front door of a charmingly rustic house.

“Yep, all the way to the creek and all the way to the road. Might surprise you, but I like my privacy.”

“I’d never have guessed.” He replies with faux shock.

“Smartass.” Barclay kisses his cheek, holds the door open with his shoulder so Joseph can pull his bags inside. He packed as light and efficiently as he could for two weeks away (he’d initially planned on one until Aubrey and Moira ganged up on him and told him he hadn’t taken a real vacation in years so he was taking one now, damn it) but his suitcase is still heavy as he rolls it to the stairs.

“I got that.” Barclay shoulders his own travel bag and hoists Joseph’s in the other hand, carrying them to the second floor like they’re nothing more than pillows.

The week the chef was in Madison, Joseph went to his hotel almost every night. Fell asleep in his bed more than once, when discussions of fusion cuisine or the Fresno Nightcrawler turned into frantic, heated kisses under the covers. It’s only when the cook drops all luggage into the master bedroom that the truth of why he’s on this trip sets in.

“You really invited me all the way here because you think I’m hot.”

“Yeah but no.” Barclay drapes his arms over his shoulders, lips still a little chilly as he kisses them, “brought you here because you’re smart” another kiss, this one on his jaw, “and funny” another, on his nose, “and you’re the biggest bigfoot fan I know.”

“You wrote a book on it!”

“Point stands. And yeah” he pushes Joseph back so he lands on the bed, crawling atop him as he growls, “I invited you here because you’re so hot I wanna pour sugar on you and see if it melts. Now get your pants off; I’ve been thinking about sucking your dick since we left the city.”

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

“How did the whole bigfoot thing start?” Joseph sips his Irish Coffee as Barclay puts his feet into his lap.

“Guess the same way any famous person ends up with two gigs; I was doing the thing I love, then was dicking around on cryptid hunter forums and found out I was also hella good at researching bigfoot. By the time I got really into it, I had enough cash that I could write my book without worrying about going broke. Helps that I’d handed off The Arch and The Lodge and was just the exec chef on them, since then I could travel if I needed to.”

Joseph nods, moves one hand down to rub Barclays foot; in spite of no longer working the kitchens of his five restaurants or having to test recipes for the books right now, he spent most of today on his feet making elaborate meals for two. Joseph teases him that he’s trying to stuff him to the point he can’t leave. Barclay always chuckles and says he doesn’t know how right he is. The last two days, Joseph then wraps his arms around his boyfriend and tells him he’d stay forever if he could.

He’s never thought of himself as romantic; he’s pragmatic, knows that relationships are things built out of time, trial, and error. But god help him, he’s fallen for Barclay like they’re rom-com leads with only ninety minutes to reach their happy ending.

They’re out near the creek--really more of a small river--the next morning, talking about books and speculating on the existence of life on other planets, when a storm sweeps through the trees. As trunks groan and roots pull loose from the snow, Barclay calls, “we better head back.”

He gives a thumbs up. Then the ice under him cracks.

He doesn’t correct course quickly enough, the rest dropping from under him and dunking him in freezing water. It’s deep, too deep to stand, but he’s a decent swimmer and kicks towards the surface. When the shadow covers the opening with a boom, panic threatens to push the rest of his precious breath away.

The tree that fell across the ice is heavy, and no matter how he pushes it won’t give. He bangs on the ice on either side, trying to get it to crack, but his lungs scream and his limbs alert him that the cold will soon shut them down.

He closes his eyes, trying to think, not ready to give up, not with Barclay so close. There’s a groan of wood and frozen water. His mouth opens without permission, desperate for air, and chokes him on frost instead.

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

“...be dead, please don’t be dead, please please please don’t be fucking dead.”

“Nnff.” That’s not what he meant to say, but it seems to calm the voice above him.

“Thank fuck. I’m so sorry, I got to you as fast as I could, do, do you need anything?” Barclay sounds exhausted.

“Cold.” He mutters.

“I’m trying to warm you up gradually, that’s what the first aid book said but, uh, here.” Warm, fuzzy arms draw him into a hug.

Wait.

The first thing he sees when his eyes flutter open are arms covered in reddish-brown fur. When Barclay rubs their cheeks together, it tickles more than his beard usually does.

“Barclay? What the hell is going on?”

“Uh. So.” He’s rolled with ease to face a creature he’s never seen and eyes that he’d know anywhere, “I’m bigfoot. Or, uh, a bigfoot. Maybe that’s kinda obvious now.”

His brain crackles to life, “What better way to stay undiscovered than get famous by giving people the wrong information about you.”

“Some of it’s true. Just not anything people could use to actually find me.”

“Smart, big guy” Joseph pets his face.

“You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I think my system is too shocked to experience more shock.” He shudders, “relatedly, how’d I get out of the river?”

“I lifted the tree off and pulled you free. Took my disguise off to do that and, uh, the fucking thing fell into the water when I got you. So I’m gonna be stuck like this until a friend of mine can get me a new one.”

“No complaints here. You look incredible.” He runs his hands up and down Barclay’s side and chest, warmth seeping into his fingers as he does, “But I’m a little surprised you were willing to risk someone seeing you or me blabbing to someone and trashing your whole life in the process.”

A low rumble as Barclay kisses his forehead, “It’s worth it. I, this is gonna sound so fucking cheesy, but I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time, and there was no way I was gonna lose you.”

“Oh.” Affection and surprise well up in his throat, pressing down his words so all he can do is nestle closer to the cryptid and let himself be loved.

His mind rebounds quickly from his misadventure. His body would like him to remember it for a while so he doesn’t put it in such jeopardy again any time soon. Instead of helping Barclay with cooking and chores, he lays under the covers while the storm rattles the roof and the cook clangs pots on the lower floor.

Barclay, attentive to a fault, is downright doting now that he’s stuck in bed. He’s never without a hot drink or something to read, and the cryptid is happy to answer the majority of his questions about the finer points of being bigfoot. When it’s bedtime, his boyfriend pulls him atop his massive frame and cuddles him, whispering over and over that he’s glad he’s okay, until they fall asleep.

Today followed much the same pattern, though when dinner time rolls around he gets a fantastic surprise.

“Chocolate fondue?” He peers hopefully at the bed tray in Barclays hands.

“Only the best for you, babe.” The cook sets the burnished wood down on the bedside table, “we lucked out, the berries I bought last week are ripe.”

Joseph reaches for the fork, but Barclay beats him to it.

“You should save your energy. Since you’re, uh, still recovering.”

He shrugs, sets his hands in his lap and opens his mouth for a chocolate dipped raspberry. It doesn’t take long to spy Barclay’s ulterior motive. The cook has a whole wardrobe designed to fit his cryptid form, but it’s having trouble concealing certain things.

“You’re getting off on this.”

“I, uh, I, maybe a little” Barclay blushes under his fur.

Joseph raises an eyebrow, tilts his head at the bulge in Barclay’s pants, “You call that ‘little’?”

A rumbly whine, the fork paused halfway to Joseph’s mouth, “I can’t help it. I’ve got a thing for taking care of partners, especially ones who are all competent and put-together the rest of the time, and you look so good when you eat and, ohfuck.”

Joseph inhales sharply as chocolate hits his exposed upper chest. It’s not hot enough to burn, and he moans as the sensation seeps across his skin. Barclays eyes, wide and ravenous, keep flicking between the splatter and his face.

“Looks like you made a mess, big guy.” Joseph begins undoing the remaining buttons on his pajamas, “you should clean it up.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay lunges, mouth first, lapping and sucking at the marked skin as Joseph laughs. Their shirts hit the floor together as he digs his nails into auburn fur. Barclay grunts at the pressure, sits up with a grin, and drips a line of chocolate down the right side of Joseph’s ribs.

“Oops. Better fix that too.”

“Cleanliness is importantAH, ahhnn.” He squirms a bit as Barclay nuzzles his stomach before dragging his tongue up his skin. There’ve been times he mourned the fact T didn’t make him as hairy as some other guys, but right now he’s grateful for the clear canvas Barclay can mark however he pleases.

“A mess can be more fun.” The cook licks his lips, sucks a hickey above his belly button, “and by the time I’m done with you, babe, won’t be a single part of you that isn’t one.”

“Then get to it.” He shoves his pants down, lets Barclay pull them the rest of the way off and fold them. He lays back, resting his arms behind his head, and moans as the cook drizzles chocolate on each hip. Joseph feels like a gourmet dessert and, from the growls between his thighs, Barclay intends to treat him like one.

His boyfriend is always enthusiastic when sucking him off, but tonight he throws finesse out the window in favor of burying his face at the crease of each thigh in turn, licking his hips clean while clawing at his calves and sides. He lifts his head, wipes his mouth with a satisfied grin that shows the points of his teeth, and dives down again.

Joseph yelps with pleasure, the hint of fangs hitting all his buttons, lighting him up like downtown on a dark night. It’s intense, the scratch of fur on skin just different enough from the usual beard to remind him of who’s down there, and his legs try to kick closed. Barclay growls again, holding them open with ease.

“Not until I’m done with you, babe.”

He surrenders to flood of feelings from both outside and within him, Barclay’s sheer delight at his body rendering all his doubts and worries toothless and small, quieting them until all he can think about is incredible creature holding and all he can say is some variation on-

“Barclay, please, right there, lordalmighty that’s good, that’s so good big guy, please.” He squeezes his eyes shut, craving the impending orgasm more than he has words for. Barclay sucks determinedly and huffs, pleased, as Joseph's thighs tense in his hold and his climax chases away the remnants of yesterday's aches.

As his brain insists that really, body, opening our eyes isn’t that hard, there’s a metallic zip and strong legs bracketing his thighs.

“Here I thought you couldn’t look any better.” He murmurs as Barclay gleefully strokes his cock, “as soon as my brain works again, I’m coming up with so many ways to use that gorgeous thing.”

“Can’t, fuck, can't wait to hear ‘em, but I only got one for tonight; I’m gonna use it to cum alllll over that fucking perfect body, fuck, Joseph, you look so good when you’re ruined, fuck.” An impressive amount of cum spatters up his stomach, chest, and neck as Barclay howlgrowlpurrs and then sets his hands carefully on the bed.

Joseph’s whole body is sticky with chocolate, sweat, and cum, and Barclay definitely has at least two of those things mussed into his fur.

“You’re right, big guy, a mess can be fucking amazing.”

That being said, being sticky gets old quick, and soon they’re in the tub, Joseph whistling as he shampoos Barclay’s chest. The cryptid hasn’t stopped purring, and every time he looks Joseph’s way the sound deepens.

“When are you next in the city?”

The cook yawns, “Was gonna check on how the new chef de cuisine is getting on at Kepler in about two week.”

“Would you like to stay with me? It’s not fancy, but it’s close to the Ismuth, so you can get to Kepler on foot without trouble, and there are fewer crowds there this time of year. I suspect paparazzi are also less likely to track you down at some random house than at a hotel. That might make up for my lack of, um, high class amenities.”

“Good point. But I gotta be honest babe; as long as you’re there, that’s all I need to be happy.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #meet ugly #taz amnesty #terato #monster boyfriend #trans agent stern

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

Lost Boys

Reader X Draco

(Follow up one-shot to Beautifully Beastly)

Summary: Now that Scorpius is older and in love with his best friend, he’s terrified to tell you and Draco

A/n: So, I recently finished reading the Cursed Child, and oh my lord I love Scorpius more than my own non existent children. And I know that coming out to your parents can be scary and it might not go the way you always wanted it to, but here’s some comfort in that fear. Something to hold onto.

It was a late night and Draco was out on another case as I read in bed by lamp light. There was a knock on the door.

“Yes?” I called, seeing Scorpius’ pale face in the night light. “Everything alright sweetheart?” I sat up.

“You’re busy reading, it’s nothing, never mind,” He stammered and went to leave.

“Scorpius,” I chided, setting my book down. “It’s alright darling,” I patted the bed beside me.

His eyes didn’t leave the floor as he shuffled over to the bed and curled up beside me, hiding his face in my shoulder. Worry began to bloom in my chest. I hadn’t seen Scorpius like this in a while—the last time being when Harry had changed Albus’ school schedule and told his son to avoid mine.

I stroked his hair softly and hummed. I knew Scorpius, he would open up when he felt safe and secure. Even as a teenager, he still had the habit of curling up with me at night when he was afraid. And I was glad that some things never changed.

“Mum?” He peaked up at me after a while and I could see his father reflected in his eyes.

“Yes dear?” I smiled.

“I... I’m bi.” He rushed out, growing very red and looking down, ashamed.

I stared at him a moment, letting it sink in. A smile spread across my face as I drew him close into an embrace.

“And you are loved, and complete,” I rubbed his back softly. Tears stung my eyes as I felt his frame shake with little sobs as he clung to me. “And I will always support you and demolish anyone who doesn’t.”

The tears did slip out as Scorpius continued to cry into my arms. I tugged the blanket up around him and continued to card through his hair. When he started to babble apologizes is when I pulled him away and cupped his face, wiping away his tears.

“You are my son, Scorpius. You are such a bright young wizard with a pure heart that has love to spare. Don’t apologize for that, ever.” I pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so sorry that you’ve been so scared.”

He sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“Who you are, and how you feel, has, is, and always will be valid my dear,” I smiled and stroked his cheek softly. “And I love you. All of you.”

He nodded and threw his arms around me again, hugging me close.

“I love you, mum,” He whispered softly.

“As I love you,” I smiled, and we settled down under the covers.

Curled up on my chest, Scorpius seemed to calm down and his breathing evened out. My fingers still combed through his hair as I hummed one of his favorite lullabies.

“Mum?” He breathed out; his voice still small.

“Yes darling?”

“Do... do you think dad will...” He didn’t seem to know how to finish the thought, but I had been thinking the same thing.

“I think your dad might surprise you,” I confessed. “But if you don’t feel safe, I can talk to him. Merlin knows he’s afraid of me,” I chuckled softly.

“You’d... you’d fight dad for me?” Blue eyes met mine.

“It’s not the first time I’ve done it,” A smile played at my lips.

“What do you mean?” Scorpius frowned. “You’ve fought dad over me before?”

“I suppose you were too young to remember... When you were little, and I first began to tutor you, you asked me where all of my lullabies came from. I told you they were muggle and I’d have to talk to dad about letting you know the movies or stories they came from...”

“Dad wasn’t always alright with muggle things?” Scorpius seemed shocked.

“You have to understand he grew up loathing muggles, darling. That your grandfather twisted him into...” I sighed softly and shook my head. “We fought. He didn’t want you to know muggle things... fairytales.” The memory flitted to the forefront of my mind. “I said that I wouldn’t keep secrets from you, so I resigned, but he was going out on a case for a week, so I was going to stay until he got back...”

“But you didn’t quit?” Scorpius frowned.

“No,” I smiled. “The case... your father almost died on that case, because they were using me against him. He went in alone to try and save me—it wasn’t me, don’t worry, just a bit of Polyjuice Potion... when he came back... he said he was sorry for the things he said to me... and that it was alright if I never wanted to speak to him again, but he begged me to stay because you needed me... because he needed me.” I looked at the rings on my hand: an engagement ring and a wedding band. “I was going to stay anyway, no matter what he ordered me to do because I wasn’t going to leave you... I couldn’t leave you.” Blinking out of the memory, I looked down at Scorpius, who looked mystified.

“You and dad... did that for me?” He squeaked. I nodded.

“We love you Scorpius, more than you’ll ever know.” I pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “And though I will love your father until the day I die...” A smile graced my lips. “I loved you first.”

Tears shined in Scorpius’ eyes as he dove back into my arms. The next morning, I woke to Draco pressing a kiss to my forehead. Scorpius was still fast asleep in my arms.

“Bad night?” He whispered softly, not to wake his son.

“Could say that,” I mused. “But he’s better now I think,” Another pair of blue eyes blinked open.

“Good morning,” I greeted softly, letting Scorpius sit up.

“Dad?” Scorpius rubbed his eyes, looking to Draco who was sitting beside me on the bed.

“Right here, son,” Draco encouraged with a soft smile.

Scorpius nodded and ran a hand through his hair—a nervous tick he picked up from Draco. He stood, making his way to the door without another word. I called to him before he could leave entirely.

“I love you,” I reminded him.

“Love you too, mum,”

Draco looked to me for answers and I pressed a kiss to his lips softly.

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” I rubbed his arm softly. “But he really is okay,”

“I don’t think I will ever understand you two,” Draco rubbed his face and nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“I don’t think you’re meant to,” I chuckled, pulling him into my arms.

“And you’re sure he’s not in danger? Harry isn’t trying to make Albus go to Ilvermorny or something is he?” Draco looked up from his lounged position on my lap, drawing a laugh from me.

“No dear, Harry has nothing to do with it,” I affirmed, fanning out Draco’s hair so that it formed a silvery halo around his head, draped onto the comforter.

“Is it about Albus then? Did something happen?” Draco pressed and I laughed, seeing right through his attempt to get to me confess.

“He will tell you when he’s ready, and until he is you will respect him.” I narrowed my eyes playfully.

It took a few days, the weekend, in fact. I could tell that Draco was carefully hiding his curiosity and frustration under a mask I knew well. But, as I tidied the library, replacing books and shifting the order of a few, and sending a few cleaning spells towards the blanket of dust, I paused at the large French windows, seeing my two boys walking along the Manor grounds.

Scorpius had his head hung and I knew exactly what conversation was taking place. I lingered at the window and watched as Draco paused a moment as he gazed at our son and smiled. The tight embrace between the two brought tears to my eyes as I looked away, letting them have their moment.

That night the three of us curled up in the grand master bedroom bed. My fingers carded through Scorpius’ hair as he finally found a peaceful slumber.

“This is familiar,” Draco noted softly. I simply nodded. “Do... do you think we messed up?” He asked softly.

I raised my eyebrows, shocked at the question and ready to go off on him, not caring if Scorpius was there or not. Draco caught my glare and quickly mended his question.

“Because he was so scared to tell us,” He rushed out and I exhaled slowly, looking down at Scorpius.

“We might have...” I confessed. “But we’re going to do everything we can to make up for it,”

“And how are we going to do that?” Draco chuckled softly.

“Well, I have a feeling that Albus might have something to do with it after all,”

I watched Draco’s eyes widen in realization as a smile spread across my face.

“Of course, it had to be a Potter,” Draco groaned, laying back on the silk pillows.

I laugh escaped my lips and Scorpius shifted in my arms, his eyes not opening as he nestled back down, mumbling incoherently.

Standing by Draco’s side, we waved as Scorpius and Albus headed out on their first date, both blushing and laughing while holding hands.

“He really is perfect for our son, isn’t he?” Draco sighed softly; a smile evident in his tone.

“He is,” I leaned against him.

“Still can’t believe he fell for a Potter,”

“You did,” I grinned, my eyes meeting his. “And just because you couldn’t shag a Potter doesn’t mean our son can’t,”

I burst out laughing at the look on Draco’s face.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland@shookyungsoo@savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules@akari180@slytherin-emerald@chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings@fanficflaneuse@go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans@darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink@takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader@alienmotel @oh-itsnothing@tulippings @thestressedprincess@sunflowerxsadnessw@caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @okaydraco @strawberriesonsummer @ughjjloveme @honeymarvel @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @peters-legos @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @slothgirl22 @peachesandpinks @monimillion @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel

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your-turn-to-role · 3 years

Note

Hello there! i saw someone else doing this and i thought it was a fun and cool idea so: Headcanon Saturday (or sunday if its sunday for you): share a favorite headcanon (or lots of headcanons), big or small, if you feel like it! Your blog is very cool and I love seeing your thoughts whenever they pop up on my dash! keep doing what you do :D

it is in fact sunday for me! (or, it was when you sent this, it's wednesday now bc i had an assignment i had to do and uh, nz just went back into major lockdown so that’s fun)

but thank you so much!

and honestly this question had me stumped for a bit, because, in theory i have some, right? but, one, i'm less of a theory fan and more of a collector fan, i can put together minuscule details from all over the show to get a big picture of a character, but i rarely have headcanons that aren't based in some show evidence or other

and when i do have some, they either end up in a meta post im writing, or in a specific tag (like my cr nd headcanons i'll link a bit further down), or in a fic that i will write half of and never post bc i am chronically terrible at finishing things 😂

that said! i have scoured through fic ideas and discord server messages, so here have a few

fave headcanon that's not mine

disabled essek. like, thank you fandom for this one, it's incredibly dear to my heart, i consider it canon, nothing can convince me otherwise, it is going in all my fics, just.... comfort character

sometimes a character can be a neutral evil criminal and a disability icon okay

fave identity headcanon

see this tag for my various "why cr characters are neurodivergent" essays, also, fjord and jester are arospec thank you good day

a couple ones just based on dnd mechanics that i enjoy

- gilmore is a couple levels self taught in wizard

(he at the very least would have magic initiate if you were to build him like a pc bc he has identify, which is not a sorcerer spell, but... something about how he loves magic and was very determined to stand out but also something happened to him with the whole runechild thing that makes him scared to admit he is one so obviously he wouldn't flaunt that power, also the way he's kinda self deprecating whenever he has to admit he doesn't know wizard stuff, yeah, he definitely tried to teach himself magic the non sorcerer way)

- percy has a pristine organisation system for every room he owns and if you mess it up he can no longer find anything

this one is based off of two things. 1) percy is canonically a very neat and tidy person. after the feast with the briarwoods he goes home, wrecks his room trying to vent his feelings, and then barricades himself in his workshop. when vox machina find his room the next morning matt notes that percy's room is never messy like this. also, just in how he talks to grog when grog's snooping in his workshop, percy definitely knows the precise location of every tool in there. also he's just a precise person in general.

2) taliesin's weakness in rolling good for percy is investigation checks. he fails them almost every time. he has a decent int mod, but the dice just decided no investigation checks for you! (also, i haven't gone back to confirm this, so i may be wrong, but i'm pretty sure one of the few good investigation checks he makes is in whitestone castle). strict organisation system. he is absolutely useless without it 😂

aaaand, fave angsty headcanon (bc it's me, there was gonna be one)

the blumendrei didn't leave their hometown for days after they killed their parents. like. okay i've had a fic i've been lowkey writing for ages about these guys (yes i have like 40 cr fics in some form of wip status, no none are finished, this is how i exist), in the aftermath of that, bc i love them and i have a lot of thoughts about it

(also, not that i can prove it bc the fic was never posted but i kinda predicted the, cold stone tower overnight thing, which had me feeling A Way when that became canon!)

but anyway what this is based on is like... there's an idea in the fandom that trent directly ordered them to kill their parents but he really didn't. like obviously he put every step in place, but when caleb's telling that story, trent barely even comes up. he talks about how he found out his parents were traitors and how he "knew what he had to do"

so honestly, given everything we know about how trent engineers situations, it makes the most sense to me that the blumendrei, didn't want trent to know about this at all

like they believed the lie that their parents genuinely were traitors, so if you find out that horrifying secret, in the environment they'd been in for the past two years? that's shameful, horrifically so. why would they tell trent about that if they could avoid it? why risk getting branded the same, you've been told up to this point you're special, and you'd kill to keep that title. why on earth would you admit that your bloodline is tainted like that?

no, they would have tried to cover it up, as long as they could. which, is exactly what trent would want bc that again puts them on the back foot, but like... yeah, i fully believe they waited it out for a couple of days before going to trent until they were sure they couldn't wait any longer for bren to get better without drawing even more suspicion. and, since their cover story is they were supposed to be visiting their parents anyway, maybe they didn't go all that far

#this really goes all over the place #but yeah hope that's something!#inside you there are two wolves: one wants to answer this with as many headcanons as possible #the other wants to keep one topic per post so as not to emotionally confuse #anyway thanks for the ask!#it means a lot that you guys like my thoughts on stuff #cr2 #cr1 #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #astrid beck #eodwulf grieve #shaun gilmore #percy de rolo #cr thoughts #ask #text #meta

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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 3 years

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Ceremony (Smugglers, Part 5)

Hello everyone! I am so excited to finally be posting Part 5 of The Smugglers Series! I am so sorry to keep everyone waiting for so long, but I really had a creative stump when it came to continuing this, but I finally figured out the structure. This will be the fifth installment of this seven-part series, the next parts will center around their honeymoon and the Battle of Hogwarts.

This piece is extremely long and I tried to shorten it, but after all the waiting the fans of the series have done, I couldn’t bear to leave anything out. I started writing Smugglers on a whim about two years ago after reading a Tumblr post and I cannot believe how much this story and this blog have grown. I owe you guys everything and I cannot wait to keep putting out work. I apologize for the long wait, but I went through a painful writer’s block regarding this story and I am happy to be releasing it.

Smugglers Series: Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Taglist: @a-sweet-little-fangirl | @homowillraise | @fanfable

Just in case anyone was interested (and for my own visualizations sake) I compiled a picture of the wedding, maid-of-honor, and bridesmaids’ dresses, along with pictures of the various bouquets written in the story. If you guys would like to see them, please let me know!

Anyways, enjoy the long-awaited continuation of “Smugglers: A Charlie Weasley Fanfiction”

Romania. November 30th, 1994.

The Romanian Dragon Sanctuary was home to an array of dangerous species. The dragons held there ranged from both manageable and potentially deadly. But amidst the potential dangers, foul-smelling cages, and bitter weather, a certain couple spent their final month before they finally moved back to their shared home in Scotland.

Charlie Weasley, renowned Dragonologist, and fidgety husband to be proposed to master Gringotts Curse-Breaker (Y/N) (L/N) during the 1994 Quidditch World Cup surrounded by their family and friends. Encouraged by the outbreak after the cup and the realization that war could break out at any moment, the two worked quickly to organize and finalize their wedding.

But before going forth with their wedding, Charlie and (Y/N) were finishing up their tasks at the Sanctuary. The workers had safely transported the four dragons utilized in the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament back to Romania and they all settled comfortably into their respective nests. Luckily for (Y/N), her last mission reeled in far more gold than the Goblins had expected, and granted her some time off, which she gladly took to spend some time with her fiancé. She was truly enjoying her time at the Sanctuary, although she never encountered dragons while on her trips, she hoped that the information she learned from Charlie and his colleagues would prove useful in the long run. Charlie, on the other hand, spent his early mornings caring for the newly hatched Peruvian Vipertooths and his afternoons patrolling the grounds ensuring the dragons were safely secured for the night. Ever since his departure from Hogwarts, Charlie had spent most of his time studying the various dragon species held at the Sanctuary. During his stint there, however, he had never witnessed the ferocity of baby Vipertooths.

The nonnative Vipertooths were having a difficult time adjusting to the brutal cold of the Romanian countryside and Charlie worked day and night to ensure they survived. Although quite small, the dragons posed a large threat to whoever handled them due to their poisonous bites and their intense, unsatisfiable craving for human flesh which Charlie – charmed by their adorability – almost fell victim to them the first couple of days they were in his care.

The Sanctuary workers were in full swing, carefully preparing for the upcoming blizzard. Steady tents erupted near the dragon nests and each worker was tasked with creating protective barriers around them to protect any of the eggs and their mothers.

Back on Ridgebit Rock, (Y/N) trudged through the snow with a clipboard in hand and studying the contents of the wooden crates lined up along the center. Charlie pulled the collar of his jumper higher, hiding the lower half of his face in the turtleneck as he called out numbers to his fiancée. (Y/N) had grown accustomed to the hectic environment and considered the sanctuary a second home so she couldn’t help feeling nostalgic as they finished up the final task.

She looked around the surrounding forest, closing her eyes and breathing in the crisp cold air, shivering as a gust of wind blew past them. “I’m going to miss this,” she spoke up, clutching the board close to her chest, “You’ve spent so much time here, it feels bittersweet to leave it behind…” She understood that to grow, one must move on, but it was unusual to have their time at the sanctuary come to an end.

“Me too,” replied Charlie, gazing towards the heated tent that held the small Vipertooths, “I wonder if the Dragons will remember us when we’re gone...” (Y/N) giggled, cut off by a sneeze as another gust of wind blew through the forest. Charlie glanced over at his fiancée, his heart swelling at the tinge of red that spread across her nose and cheeks. “You’re cold, aren’t you?” He asked while (Y/N) blew hot air into her gloves, attempting to cover her reddening nose.

Charlie smiled sweetly, removing his scarf, and wrapping it around her to shield her from the cold breeze. He gazed at her face with admiration, running his thumb across her cold cheek as she leaned into his gloved hand.

“A little,” She admitted, setting down her clipboard and quill and slipping her hand into Charlie’s with ease, “But, I hope they remember us,” responding to his earlier statement while gazing over the hill where some of the dragons were kept, “They’ll be taken care of here and we can always come to visit.” (Y/N) grinned, squeezing her fiancé’s hand, “I’m sure they’d love to have their best Dragonologist back, not to mention their most handsome one.”

Charlie hummed in satisfaction, “You’re absolutely right,” He replied, pulling her in for a tight hug and pressing a kiss against her cheek, “We’ve done a lot here and I never properly thanked you for staying by my side” He muttered, his fingers playing with her hair as they embraced.

“And why wouldn’t I, Mr. Weasley?” (Y/N) teased, “After all, we said ‘til the end of the line our fourth year, remember?”

All the adventures, family outings, dangerous vault discoveries, and, of course, all the travels that helped them grow as a couple. The two had spent years together, watching each other go through the awkward stages of adolescence and all the hardships that came along with it. From the moment they met, they had each other’s back and although that fact did not need to be confirmed by a ceremony, they knew it was the next big step in their relationship.

“And soon we’ll be saying, til death do us part” Charlie added sweetly, pulling her scarf down and quickly stealing a kiss from her. (Y/N) smiled against Charlie’s kiss, placing her gloved hands on his cheeks, and pulling him in before pulling herself away from his grip, “But we need to finish taking inventory” she joked, picking up her clipboard from the crate and tapping her quill against it.

“Always so determined,” he replied, rolling his eyes as he attempted to pull her back into his grip and laughing as she ran down the snow, “Let's finish up so we can head home” Charlie smiled, catching up to her and pulling her along the Sanctuary.

Scotland. November 30th, 1994.

The warmth of their home quickly enveloped them as they stepped out of the fireplace, the green flames dying down at their feet. Although it was still rather chilly outside, it was nothing compared to the weather in Romania.

The two walked around the ground floor of their home, hanging up their coats and scarves in the entrance closet. Their usually tidy home had papers scattered over the countertop, along with different types of flowers, silverware, envelopes filled with wedding invitations, and other materials necessary for their preparations.

(Y/N) sighed at the mess they left behind. Planning a wedding proved to be more difficult than breaking curses at Hogwarts, and she always worried she would miss something essential while they prepared.

She rounded the kitchen counter, sorting the letters the owls had deposited at their house while they were away. Their wedding date was approaching fast, and the thought of their big day eased her worries but amplified them simultaneously.

(Y/N) tore open one of the letters, her eyes scanning over the neat cursive with a subtle smile on her face.

Dear Cursebreaker,

(Y/N) Selwyn, I wanted to reaffirm how honored I am to hold the position as stylist for this special occasion. I’m sure you’ll recall our previous correspondence where I told you not to stress about any of the fashion choices for your wedding. But knowing you, you’ve spent hours tearing through magazines trying to find the perfect wedding dress and bridesmaids’ dresses.

But I am a man of my word and I intend to provide one of my best friends an eye-catching gown with bridesmaids’ dresses to match. I have enclosed the finalized – and colorized – sketches of your wedding gown and the dresses the girls will be wearing. I’ve included three options for your dress and two for the bridesmaids’ dresses. You’ve never mentioned a maid of honor, but I designed a variant just in case you picked one without informing me.

Write to me as soon as possible so I can finalize the preparations. If all goes accordingly, your dress should be finalized before Christmas.

I hope you’re intending on wearing a tiara, I think it would tie everything together and I included them in the drawings so you could visualize it. In all honesty, I truly think this is my best work as your style-Wizard and I expect some well-deserved credit at your reception.

All jokes aside, take a look at the dresses and send me your response, along with the measurements of your selected maid of honor and bridesmaids. Also, tell Charlie to write back as soon as possible. I sent him his dress robes options ages ago and he hasn’t sent a letter back, I should honestly charge him for it.

That was another joke, I’m not taking any form of payment from either of you. That’s final so don’t even try to debate me on that.

I can’t believe you two are finally getting married. You don’t know how long everyone has been thinking about this day, I can’t wait to see everyone.

I hope you and Charlie are well.

Best Regards,

Your friend and best style wizard in all of Europe,

Andre Egwu

(Y/N) reached into the envelope and pulled out several pieces of parchment, each containing intricately painted dress designs in various shades of white, silver, and gold with a thin red sash tied around the waist. She smiled brightly at the letter and tucked the contents back in the envelope, setting it in the bin labeled “important” to remind herself to take a better look at them tomorrow morning.

She turned back towards the kitchen countertop, gathering the letters from Gringotts, as well as notices from the Ministry of Magic, and sorting them into their respective piles. Charlie came out of the entrance closet where he stashed his dragon-hyde boots and the rest of his fireproof gear to the sound of the rustling of papers. Shaking his head, he turned into the kitchen with a faint smile.

Even after all their hard work in Romania, she still managed to find another task to keep herself occupied.

“I don’t think so,” Charlie uttered, pulling (Y/N) away from the mess, and gently pushing her against the kitchen wall. Charlie admired her beauty once more, placing his calloused hand on her waist, “You’ve been working all day, I’ll be damned if I see you cleaning this late” He spoke, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“Charlie,” whined (Y/N), crossing her arms with a pout when her fiancé caged her in, “You know we’re behind on preparations,” she explained, placing her hands on his shoulders, and massaging them gently, “And you haven’t replied to Andre, he’s growing rather tense and so are you, it seems.” He caught himself admiring her once again, admiring how easy it was for her to read him. Charlie thought back to their years at Hogwarts and those moments where she would bring him exactly what he was craving for dinner or when she silently comforted him, even though he had not spoken about what bothered him. And even though he immediately eased up under her touch, his goal to keep her relaxed was unshakable.

“You, my love,” hummed Charlie, running his thumb against the apples of her cheeks, “Are going to take a nice, warm bath while I make you dinner.” (Y/N) smiled up at Charlie lovingly, wrapping her arms around his waist and nuzzling her face in his broad chest, “What if I want you in the bath with me?” She asked playfully, her hands sliding down his waist and into the back pockets of his work trousers.

Charlie chuckled darkly, his hands sliding towards the back of her thighs and lifting her off the ground, wrapping her legs around his hips, “Who am I to deny the lady what she wants?” boasted Charlie, tightly gripping the back of her thighs, and leaning his lips close to hers.

“Such a gentleman,” (Y/N) muttered breathily, her hands gliding through Charlie’s and her nose brushing against his. Her soft lips brushed delicately against his, close enough so he could inhale her breath and feel the warmth radiating off her skin. Charlie’s heart pounded harshly against his chest; the feeling of her lips so close yet so far sending a subtle shiver down his spine. Understanding why she paused, Charlie closed the gap between them, his lips perfectly molding against hers and she swore she felt time stop.

It did not matter how many times they shared a kiss, it still felt like that moment on the Quidditch Pitch. That moment when Charlie pushed through the crowds of cheering Gryffindors, the house cup forgotten in the hands of another team member, to pull her in for an electrifying kiss, one that set the course of their loving relationship. (Y/N) was so captivated by their kiss that she did not notice when Charlie expertly moved up the stairs and towards the master bathroom.

It wasn’t until he set her down on the bathroom sink that she opened her eyes, laughing wholeheartedly as Charlie bent down to open the warm water, his endearing chuckle echoing through the bathroom.

“You’re quite sneaky, aren’t you?” questioned (Y/N) teasingly, hopping off the countertop and making her way towards Charlie, her cold hands sliding underneath his long-sleeve making him jump.

“And what does that make you?” He retorted flirtatiously and gripping her wrists, pulling her against his chest, his hand trailing down to the side of her neck.

“Hm, a demiguise, maybe?” She asked innocently, her eyes shifting upwards in mock pondering and Charlie rolled his impatiently, tugging the hem of her jumper and slipping it off her body.

“Of course, how could I have missed that? The long hair honestly seals the deal. Although…” He trailed off, his eyes scanning her bare torso and sneaking a hand behind her, his fingers drumming towards the clasp of her bra, “I’ve only ever seen your eyes light up like that when your squirming underneath me–”

“Charlie!” (Y/N) exclaimed, gaping open mouthed at the blushing red-head and failing to catch her bra as it slipped down her front. She quickly crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her exposed breasts, and slid past her fiancée, “Enough playing around,” she stated firmly, turning her back towards him and unbuttoning her trousers, letting her panties fall on the floor with them and sliding into the warm water, “Get in before I change my mind” She grinned, splashing a handful of water across his chest.

Charlie scoffed, but pulled off his shirt by the neck, almost tripping over his trousers as he tugged them off with urgency, “Alright, alright! I surrender!” With that, he sunk behind (Y/N), pulling her against his chest and peppering kisses against her cheek.

The Burrow. December 5th, 1994.

“Oh, my dear!” Cried Mrs. Weasley, tears threatening to spill from her eyes as (Y/N) turned in her wedding dress. Andre Egwu stood behind her, proudly gazing and his handiwork and twisting the red sash so the diamond snowflake brooch sat comfortably on the left.

“Come on,” Andre crooned, “tell me I’m a genius” he prodded with a smirk, stepping back to stand beside Mrs. Weasley with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, but turned to admire herself in the mirror, “I’m going to have to admit it this time,” she acknowledged, looking back at the satin train of her A-line gown, the tails of her red bow falling shorter than it, “You truly have outdone yourself, Andre. I really can’t thank you enough”

Mrs. Weasley dabbed her eyes with her apron, sniffling as (Y/N) spoke, “You look radiant, (Y/N)! Charlie is going to faint when he sees you,” she beamed and walked to her, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“But I still think you’re missing something,” Andre chimed in, drumming his fingers against the old brown box sitting on the bedroom dresser, “Like we discussed, Mrs. Weasley?” He added and (Y/N) raised a questioning eyebrow as Mrs. Weasley scurried to the desk and opened the box, shielding its contents from the soon to be bride.

“It was Auntie Tessie’s wedding tiara,” Mrs. Weasley spoke up, beaming as she faced (Y/N), the sparkling headpiece held delicately in her hands.

(Y/N)’s jaw almost hit the floor. Of course, she had expected Mrs. Weasley to pull out all the stops for their wedding, but she never thought she’d be hiding such a luxurious piece.

“Mrs. Weasley– You can’t mean–,” stuttered (Y/N), shaking her head vigorously and her eyes jumping from Andre’s grinning face to Mrs. Weasley’s loving smile.

“I do, dear,” she reassured, beckoning for her to come closer, “Andre sent me the letter when you picked your wedding dress! Of course, he didn’t know I would have the perfect piece to tie everything together, but Auntie Tessie left this behind when she passed and she especially fond of Charlie,” she began to explain, gazing down at the tiara and turning it to set it on (Y/N)’s head, “She wanted his future wife to wear it down the aisle. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

(Y/N) turned to face the mirror once again, but this time focusing on the five sparkling rubies in the crystal tiara, “I don’t know what to say,” she forced out, overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of herself in a wedding dress, “And, yes. I want to wear this tiara, are you having a laugh?!” She exclaimed excitedly, tears welling up in her eyes as she threw her arms around her future mother-in-law, “You’ve been nothing, but kind to me all these years. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

“My dear,” sniffled Mrs. Weasley, “How many times must I tell you? Charlie is the happiest I’ve ever seen him and that is all because of you, (Y/N)” she explained honestly, her hand rubbing up and down her back as they embraced, “All these years, he’s only spoken about you. How you make him feel and how important you are to him.”

“Mrs. Weasley–”

“I think it’s high time you started calling me Molly, dear” interrupted Mrs. Weasley, pulling out of her embrace and holding (Y/N)’s shoulders tightly, “You’re going to make a wonderful bride, my darling”

(Y/N) let out a small sob, her arms wrapping around her fiancé’s mother once again, “Thank you, Molly” she whispered, wiping her tears away and smiling down at her as tears streamed down both their faces.

“I hate to interrupt,” Andre chimed in from behind them, the grin still evident on his face, “but I think we should get (Y/N) out of that dress before Charlie ruins the surprise.”

The women nodded in agreement and (Y/N) removed the tiara, handing it to Molly, who returned it to its velvety cushioned box.

“I’m going to go work on dinner, I’ll see the two of you down there in a bit,” She announced happily, exiting the room and descending the stairs to her kitchen.

“Andre–” (Y/N) started, holding her friend by the elbows, “I have to find some way to repay you. After all these years– I mean, you made my first date outfit for Godric’s sake and you’ve never let me pay you once–”

“And I never will.” he retorted defiantly, “Your friendship is far more precious than some stupid galleons,” Explained Andre, placing his hand on her cheek, “You helped me find my passion in fashion design, you and McNully taught me how to become the best Keeper Ravenclaw house had ever seen and,” he paused, shifting around so she could look at herself in the mirror, “even though we’re not at school, you invite me to all your adventures and Ministry events. You and Charlie have given me so much and you don’t even realize it.”

Andre took a step back, holding (Y/N)’s hands in admiration, “You deserve the very best on your wedding day, and so does Charlie. I’m just glad I’ve been along for the ride, but if you’re so adamant of repaying me,” he grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Save me a dance the day of your wedding, that’s all I ask for.”

The waterworks came once again, (Y/N) let out a small sob as she threw her arms around her long-term friend, “Of course, Andre,” she agreed, her voice wavering while they embraced, “Thank you so much for everything.”

Andre smiled, his hand resting at the back of her head, “Anytime, Cursebreaker.” He muttered, “But we should get you out of that dress, I need to fix Charlie’s dress robes before dinner.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement and stepped out of his grasp, watching Andre head towards the door, “Make sure he doesn’t look better than me!” She joked as the door opened and Andre let out a hearty chuckle.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” He shot her a wink and slipped out of the room, the door closing gently behind him and his voice booming down the stairs while he yelled for Charlie.

(Y/N) laughed when she heard Charlie’s startled yell and the door to his bedroom slamming open. Her hands slid down the soft satin of her dress, the rhinestone straps glinting as the sunset over the horizon and the ghost of a smile decorating her relaxed features.

“Only a month away,” she thought joyfully and hung up the dress in its black garment bag before joining Molly in the kitchen.

Scotland. January 5th, 1995.

Wedding preparations were in full swing at the home of Charlie Weasley and (Y/N) Selwyn. The family of the bride and groom ran up and down the house, folding the seating arrangements and fixing any stray flower bouquets that remained in the kitchen.

“George!” Bellowed Mrs. Weasley as he and Fred slid down the bannister, their ties around their heads and vests unbuttoned, “You two better straighten up before the guests arrive!”

“Molly dear,” Mr. Weasley spoke up from behind her, his hands running down her arms soothingly, “They’re just excited, I’m sure they’ll settle down soon”

Mrs. Weasley placed her hand over her husband’s while the other soothed the velvet of her elegant green dress, “I’m sure you’re right, Arthur. I just want everything to be perfect for Charlie and (Y/N)’s special day.”

“I know, Mollywobbles,” he muttered, pressing a kiss against his wife’s forehead as she blushes furiously, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

“Come now, Arthur,” she urged, but unable to fight the smile that formed on her face, “Let us go finish up the tent”

Outside stood Charlie, running up and down the wedding tent, yelling orders to his younger brothers who had, apparently, never seen this side of Charlie before.

“No–! Percy!” He groaned, straightening the ribbon against the back of it, “Over and under, like this!” Charlie twisted the ribbon, leaving a delicate bow to decorate the pearl white chairs.

“I am perfectly capable of tying a ribbon, Charles.” declared Percy pompously, demonstrating his bow-tying skills on the next chair, but struggling a little more than Charlie had.

Charlie let out a small sigh, adjusting his tie and the lapels of his red and black dress robes, “I know,” he admitted solemnly, “I just want everything to be perfect, (Y/N)’s spent so long planning this–”

“Don’t worry,” Percy interjected, “With William and I here, everything is bound to go smoothly.” He grinned, placing his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “We’re the most responsible and we’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, for you and (Y/N)”

Charlie sighed, but this time out of relief, his arms wrapping tightly around Percy, “Thank you for being here, Perce. I know it wasn’t easy to get time off.”

Percy let out a small scoff, “You think I would miss my brother’s wedding? Mr. Crouch’s cauldron bottoms can wait until after the ceremony, even though it’s rather painful to put off my work for this long.”

Charlie fought back the urge to ruffle his brother’s hair, “When did you get so grown up?” He asked playfully, “I still remember you killing spiders for Ronnie.”

Percy rolled his eyes at his remark, but smiled nonetheless, “We all grow up eventually, Charlie. Just look at today, I could not be prouder of you and I know Mum and Dad are too.”

Charlie thanked Percy with another hug, but their moment was interrupted by Bill, who was waving his wand towards the marital archway, making light silvery roses appear in between the bright red ones, “Oi! Guests are arriving in twenty minutes, we’ve got time for friendly chats later, but we really need to get everything together before they apparate!”

Percy nodded in agreement, striding down the silver carpet and clearing out a path through the snow, raising another set of tents from the entrance of their house towards the wedding tent. Charlie joined his brother near the archway, clapping him on the shoulder and waving his wand so the rest of the flowers appeared on top of the seat ribbons.

A gaggle of women hid inside the master bedroom on the second story of their home, a half-empty champagne bottle resting on the vanity with six empty glasses surrounding it. Six girls stood around the bedroom window, gazing down at the boys in the garden with wide grins, “This dress is quite beautiful!” exclaimed Rowan Khanna, turning to examine herself in the mirror, “Andre truly has outdone himself!” Her dress was slightly different than the other girls. It was still made out of the same silver fabric as the other ones, but her’s contained an array of silver crystals covering the left side of the bodice while a ruched one-shoulder sleeve came up and around her right shoulder

“I agree,” chimed in Penny Haywood, twirling around in her floor-length silver dress, “I can’t believe the day is finally here!” she squealed. Her dress also contained a ruched one-shoulder strap but lacked the bodice crystals in favor of a criss-cross fabric belt around her dress, “Tonks! Stop messing with it!”

Nymphadora Tonks shifted in her seat as Penny attempted to soothe her bright pink hair, which she had grown out to shoulder length for the occasion, “It looks too neat!” complained Tonks, ruffling her unnaturally straight hair, and curling the bottoms of it with her wand. Tonks and Tulip were wearing the second variation of Andre’s dress, it contained the same details as the others, the only difference being the two straps in contrast to the one-shoulder Penny and Merula wore.

“I think it looks quite nice,” muttered Merula Snyde, gazing at her straightened hair, “Don’t you think this color brings out my eyes?” She asked absentmindedly, her hands running over the chiffon gown.

“Oh, please” groaned Tulip Karasu with a grin, “That’s what you said during the Celestial Ball!”

Merula glared towards Tulip, “And was I wrong?” she asked, throwing one of the satin dressing gowns they wore while getting ready. The two girls broke out in a fit of laughter, launching the dressing robes at each other and dodging them swiftly and the other bridesmaids joining in until the sound of the bathroom door opening caught their attention.

“Merlin’s beard,” gasped Rowan at the sight of her best friend standing underneath the doorway, an angelic glow radiating off her, “(Y/N), you look–”

“Breathtaking,” finished Merula, her lips curling into a devious smile, “Weasley is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

Penny nodded in agreement, rushing to (Y/N)’s side and taking her by the hand, “I promised you I wouldn’t cry, but I honestly think I am going to break down during the ceremony.” admitted Penny, and the other girls joined her around the bride.

“You guys,” (Y/N) smiled sheepishly, gazing around her friends, and pulling them all in for a messy group hug, “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she admitted, a sniffle resonating through the room as she pulled back, “And you’re all here, what more could I ask for?”

“How ‘bout a sack of galleons from your boss at Gringotts?” joked Merula, slapping (Y/N)’s arms and laughing along with the rest of the girls. Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) returned Merula’s slap with one of her own and stepped towards the vanity table to add the finishing touches to her hair.

“Oh! Let me help you,” exclaimed Rowan, rushing behind (Y/N) and picking her wand up from the table, “I’ve spent hours reading hair-spell books, I want to be the world’s best Maid of Honor!” She ran her fingers delicately through the curls of (Y/N)’s hair, waving her wand and uttering an incantation so a thin stream of hairspray sprayed out of the tip. Unlike ordinary hairspray, this magical substance would ensure the curls stayed intact even if she stood in a hurricane zone.

(Y/N) smiled at Rowan through the mirror, fighting back the tears that were welling up in her eyes, “Rowan, I’m so glad you’re here, I still remember when we first met and the wonderful scarf I picked out for you”

Rowan laughed as she sprayed another curl in place, “I still have that scarf, it was approved by Andre and everything so you should start calling yourself a style-wizard as well.” As the two best friends reminisced, Penny and Tonks were opening the brown-leather box, gaping at the tiara with admiration and carefully wiping it with polish to amplify its shine.

“Some guests are arriving,” Tulip announced, looking out the window with Merula, the two of them craning their necks to see the small group pass through the snow led by Percy and Molly Weasley who bore wide grins.

In the sitting room, the groom and his groomsmen gathered around the kitchen island, six glasses of firewhiskey resting on the countertop, “No, I-I really shouldn’t” Charlie pleaded, raising his hand out to block the shot glass his best-man, Andre, was forcing into his grasp.

“Just one!” urged Andre, wiggling the glass in front of him as Bill and Barnaby raised their own in celebration, “(Y/N)’s had her champagne! I saw the glass, I promise!”

“I’m even having one, Charlie!” added Ben Copper, raising his glass to meet Barnaby and Bill, earning a laugh from Jacob Selwyn as he rounded the corner of the island, his own shot glass in hand.

“Charlie, I know you and my baby-sis talked about it and in all honesty, mate…” started Jacob, his eyes scanning Charlie’s tense behavior, “You need to loosen up a little, I saw you yelling at chair ribbons before the guests arrived.”

The groomsmen laughed, earning a small scoff of amusement from Charlie, “Alright, alright!” He boomed, snatching the glass from Andre, and raising it into the circle with the rest of his men, “But I’m making you all take three at the reception!”

“That’s fine by me!” cheered Barnaby Lee, “We don’t have drinks at work; they’re all a bunch of prats really” he jested, gazing at the firewhiskey bottle longingly, “I’ll do however many you want!”

“Enough talking! To Charlie and (Y/N)!” bellowed Bill Weasley, flashing a toothy smile while Jacob patted Charlie’s back encouragingly. Jacob’s relationship with (Y/N) had strengthened significantly as years passed and although he loved having a younger sister, a part of him always wanted a brother. And, after months of getting to know him, finally found one in Charlie.

The groom and his groomsmen down their shots, slamming the decorative glasses down on the countertop and filing out of the house, excitedly patting Charlie on the back as they urged him out the front door. Several minutes later, the girls, in their matching silver dresses, came down the stairs excitedly waving their red and white bouquets.

(Y/N) came down the stairs, her dress and veil trailing behind her as she gripped the banister, her other hand carrying her much larger bouquet which contained a set of additional black roses mixed in with the red and white ones to match with Charlie’s robes. With the guests settled in their seats, Jacob ran back into the house and past the curtains dividing the tent connected to the front door.

“Look at you...” He gaped, his eyes wide in admiration when he finally caught sight of his little sister in her wedding gown, the sparkling tiara sitting perfectly atop her head, “I wish Mum and Dad could see you.” added Jacob in a whisper, reaching for her hands and smiling softly as their eyes met.

“Me too,” added (Y/N) earnestly, “We’ll visit their grave before the honeymoon, it’s not much, but it’s the least we can do.” She proposed and Jacob nodded in agreement, squeezing his sister’s hands while she spoke.

“I’ll tell you this, though,” chuckled Jacob, sneakily glancing out the tent as the music started, “I’m surprised Charlie isn’t sweating bullets, he looks more nervous than that time he asked for my permission.” The two siblings broke out in a fit of laughter, heading closer to the door as, unbeknownst to them, the wizard officiant began making his way down the decorated aisle, waving happily at the guests.

“It’s almost time,” muttered (Y/N), butterflies fluttering in her stomach as they stood behind the icicle wedding curtains, “Oh my god, I’m getting married.” She could feel the nerves overcoming her excitement, a small lump forming in her throat as she worried about the many things that could go wrong, one being tripping down the aisle.

“Hey,” Jacob spoke out, turning her by the shoulders while Charlie and Andre strode confidently down the aisle, the soft violin accompanying them as the sound of cheering whistles followed after them. “You, my dear sister, have dealt with cursed ice, magical ciphers, loony and manipulative professors, and – not to mention – spent the last few months taking care of hordes of dragons. The most dangerous creatures, according to the Ministry registry,” He explained comfortingly, his hands running down the side of her arms, “I think you can walk down this aisle and meet the man you love, and more importantly, who loves you without anything to worry about.”

(Y/N) bit her lip at her brother’s words, throwing her arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Jacob,” her voice wavering, “Thank you so much.”

Jacob rubbed her back comfortingly, looking over her shoulder to see the bridesmaids making their way towards the archway, “Anytime, baby sister. Anytime.”

“But” he added, pulling away from their hug and grabbing the first layer of her veil, pulling it over her face with a gentle smile, “I think Rowan is about to walk down and the only tears I want to see are Charlie’s.” Pressing a kiss against her cheek, Jacob turned his sister towards the curtain, bright smiles pulling at their lips.

Charlie stood nervously at the archway, conspicuously twiddling his fingers as the song changed and the icicle curtains were pulled open by an unseen force of magic. At the sound of the change, Charlie looked up and as soon as he met (Y/N)’s gentle expression, all his worries slipped away, and his mind blocked out everyone else at the venue.

He wanted to burn the image of (Y/N) in her stunning white dress into his memory. A sight he had been dreaming of since their one-year anniversary, one that surpassed the vision of her during their first date or the ones of her during the Celestial Ball. As she was led down the aisle by Jacob, Charlie made a mental note to thank Andre with the largest slice of cake or some-kind of present because this was, honestly, the perfect gown for (Y/N).

The dazzling white pleated crisscross sweetheart neck bodice fit perfectly, the red sash around her middle accentuating her waist most breathtakingly. The small snowflake brooch on the left side of her sash sparkled brilliantly, matching perfectly with the delicate rhinestone straps that fell delicately over her shoulders. His eyes trailed upwards, his grin faltering at the sight of Great Auntie Tessie’s tiara underneath (Y/N)’s veil and he finally took notice of the tears that spilled out of his eyes. He hastily wiped them away, stepping down towards the carpet to meet (Y/N) and Jacob a few meters from the archway. Charlie grasped Jacob’s hand tightly, giving it a stern shake before taking (Y/N)’s hand delicately into his own, leading her in front of the officiant.

Charlie held both of her hands, looking her over and sighing in amazement as he pulled the veil back, exposing her flushed face and the dazzling tiara, “You look–” He breathed out, unable to find an appropriate word to describe how incredibly gorgeous she looked.

“Breathtaking?” She finished with a mischievous gaze and placed a kiss against Charlie’s cheek who blushed furiously as they turned towards the officiant.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the sing-song voice of the officiant who raised his arms in acknowledgment to the couple as a collective silence fell over the crowd, “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two beautiful faithful souls.”

The wedding guests watched avidly, some moving towards the edge of their seats with intricate handkerchiefs as the couple turned sideways, their hands intertwined.

“Do you Charles Septimus Weasley, take (Y/N) Selwyn to live together in marriage? to cherish in friendship and love today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you live, to trust and honor her? to love her faithfully, through the best and the worst, whatever may come, and if you should ever doubt, to remember your love for each other and the reason why you came together with her this day?”

Charlie was nodding eagerly before the officiant had even finished his spiel, tears streaming down his face but an unwavering smile decorating his freckled face, “I do. More than anything in the world.”

(Y/N) beamed back at him, squeezing his hands tightly and releasing them momentarily so Charlie could slip the wedding band onto her finger. The officiant turned towards (Y/N), the smile on his face widening as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Do you, (Y/N) Selwyn take Charles Septimus Weasley…” the words floated away from (Y/N)’s mind, she registered the officiant speaking but she could only focus on the man in front of her and how his hands felt in hers. The way his dress robes fit perfectly and how they brought out the color of his bright green eyes. She felt her hand moving on its own to grip the golden band and the words, “I do” sliding past her lips and she recalled it being the easiest phrase she ever had to say in her life.

The two of them did not register the happy sobs of Mrs. Weasley in the front row or the audible sniffles of Barnaby, Penny, and Rowan beside them. They even blocked out the loud trumpeting noises at the back of the wedding venue that undoubtedly came from Hagrid with Professor McGonagall dabbing her eyes an aura of dignity by his side.

The two of them only returned to the present moment when the officiant uttered the words, “Then I declare you, bonded for life.” With that, a stream of glittering snowflakes came out from the tip of the officiant’s wand, spirling over (Y/N) and Charlie’s heads.

“Come here,” Charlie practically growled, twirling (Y/N), pulling her in by the waist, and pressing his lips against her. At that moment, it felt like all the planets had aligned to create a timeless- one passionate moment that defined the future of their relationship. Overwhelmed by happiness, Charlie turned his wife in his arms and dipped her in front of the whole crowd, the sound of thundering claps and booming cheers filling the tent while they kissed. (Y/N)’s leg was lifted beside him, stretched perfectly and peeking underneath her gorgeous gown as the heat rose in her cheeks, that familiar sensation of liquid lightning coursing through her body.

The newlyweds turned upright again, pressing their foreheads together as they laughed and returned to the tumultuous crowd surrounding them. Charlie and (Y/N) raised their intertwined hands and the excited guests rose from their seats, their chairs disappearing only to be replaced by the reception tables and an ample dance floor. Overlapping ‘congratulations’ came from the numerous guests, patting the couple in support as they made their way towards the dance floor with their wedding party.

“I love you, more than you’ll ever know,” Charlie spoke out, spinning (Y/N) as they shared their first dance, the lights dimming around them as the crowd watched them.

“I love you so much, Charles,” replied (Y/N), placing her hand on his cheek and leaning in to steal another kiss, “And I’ll spend every day showing you just how much.” Charlie let out a gleeful laugh, spinning his wife around the dance floor and pulling her towards their table once they finished.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” a soft voice caught their attention and they both turned to see Professor Dumbledore, McGonagall, and - to both their surprise - Professor Snape standing in front of them.

“Professors!” (Y/N) exclaimed, “We’re so glad you could make it! We thought with the tournament it’d be difficult to get away-”

“Nevermind that!” dismissed McGonagall, placing her hand on the bride’s shoulders, “I’m so proud of you and Charles,” she gushed, unlike her usually composed self, a small hint of moisture underneath her eyes, “Professor Dumbledore insisted we attend.”

“Yes,” added Snape in his usual tone, unlike McGonagall, he was devoid of any emotion, “Even I have to congratulate you on this joyous occasion,” he explained, his black eyes scanning over the crowd and back on his former pupil, “It seems Selwyn- or must I say, Weasley, that you have grown into a capable young witch. One Slytherin house was very proud to have.”

(Y/N), overcome with the emotion of the celebration, wrapped her arms around the Hogwarts Potions’ Master who returned her embrace with a very stiff pat on the back, “Come now, Severus.” Dumbledore added gleefully, his eyes twinkling with excitement, “I’m sure Mrs. Weasley is just happy to see you.”

Charlie let out a small snort, unable to contain his laughter as Snape recoiled and his wife returned to his side, “But Minerva is right, we are all very proud of you and I am not one to miss a wonderful evening to celebrate love.”

“Please, help yourselves with food and drink!” urged Charlie, gesturing towards the tables and bar, “We’ll be resuming the dancing shortly, we’re so thrilled to have you here.” He finishing confidently, shaking Dumbledore’s hand who returned his smile with one of his own.

“Will do,” He agreed with a nod of the head, “We’ll leave you two to it then!” With that, the three Professors trailed off to speak with Charlie’s parents who stood excitedly at the bar.

“Do you think I went a bit overboard?” asked (Y/N) cautiously once they left, a small giggle overcoming her as Charlie vigorously shook his head, “Are you mad? It’s our wedding day, we’re allowed to go overboard.” He reassured, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“Well, if that’s the case… I could use a drink,” she whispered coquettishly but was interrupted by their wedding party clearing their throats behind them.

“Wow, Weasley,” Merula pipped up, “I thought you were an excellent Legilimens, if you were, you could’ve heard us coming from a mile away” she teased with Rowan waving a shot glass as (Y/N) turned around.

“You’re not allowed to tease today, Merula!” She exclaimed happily, taking the shot glass from her and pulling Charlie along so he could grab his from Andre, “I’m a married woman now! I get a free pass!”

Merula rolled her eyes but gave in to her request, “As long as you take this drink, I won’t say anything!”

“Who knew it only alcohol to get Merula to lay off?” Barnaby quipped, earning a small punch which hurt her from than him due to the considerable amount of muscle he gained throughout the years.

“I’m not going to wait any longer!” threatened Ben, raising his shot glass towards Charlie, “Ready?” he announced and everyone raised their glasses in a circle, “To life and happiness!”

“To life and happiness!” They bellowed in unison, downing the chocolate vodka liqueur and extending their glasses towards Bill, who had hidden the bottle behind his back.

“Charlie did say three!” He announced, replicating the sing-song voice of the old officiant, “So everyone better have an excellent tolerance tonight because we’re celebrating until dawn!”

Tonks threw an arm excitedly around Penny’s shoulders, almost spilling the contents of their shot glasses but laughing as Bill continued to pour their drinks.

“You better switch up the drinks then!” Tulip muttered while sniffing the glass, grimacing at the strong scent of alcohol that practically burned her nostrils, “I’m more of a firewhiskey girl.”

“I’m going to have to agree,” nodded Jacob, “Not about the girl part, but I do like to mix things up… I wonder if they’ll prepare my specialty drink at the bar,” he pondered, looking longingly at the bar with a mischievous smirk.

“On three!” Andre yelled, catching everyone’s attention and he gestured towards Rowan so she could join in on the count down.

“Three!” Andre and Rowan finished chanting, throwing their heads back and swallowing their drinks before bellowing out indistinct cheers.

“I know you guys said three-” whined Penny, shaking her hands in front of her glass but it was snatched away by (Y/N) so Bill could pour their final shot, “Oh, come on! At least let me breathe!”

“You’ll breathe when we eat and dance!” dismissed Tonks, forcing the glass back into Penny’s hands who reluctantly raised it towards the happy couple, “Your turn!”

“Ready?” Charlie asked (Y/N), a dark blush spreading across his cheeks as he felt the early onsets on the alcohol affecting his body, “Let’s do that arm thing we talked about…” he whispered excitedly, pressing soft kisses against her cheek making her giggle.

“You’re so in love, Mr. Weasley,” She muttered with a small shake of the head, “But so am I” (Y/N) pressed a kiss against his nose and linked her arm around his, “On three!” she exclaimed, forcing her glass as close to her lips as possible. On three, the wedding party downed their third shot of the evening, some of them shivering as the alcohol coursed down their esophagus.

“Alright, let’s dance!” yelled Ben and Barnaby, pulling the bridesmaids away towards the dance floor to join the rest of the excited guests.

“If you don’t mind,” interjected Andre, extending his hand towards (Y/N), “I do believe you owe me a dance?” he reminded her, and (Y/N) quickly slid her hand into his.

“You’re quite right, most notable style-wizard of all Europe,” she replied, shooting Charlie an apologetic look but he only smiled, “Don’t worry,” He reassured, “I’ve got to see Mum and Dad.”

Andre pulled (Y/N) away towards the dance floor, the two of them spinning away towards the middle with wide grins. Charlie joined his family, who overwhelmed them with hugs and kisses, including his thirteen-year-old sister who had traveled with Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid to be there for the occasion. The rest of the guests danced and conversed excitedly, eating away at the delicious food the white-robed servers had brought to their tables.

Jacob Selwyn sat at one of the farthest tables, exchanging stories with his sister’s old prefect, Felix Rosier who was accompanied by Angelica Cole, the former Gryffindor prefect. Sometime during the evening, Hagrid appeared in front of (Y/N) and Charlie Weasley in his mole-skin coat and tears streaming down his face, lifting them both up from the ground as he happily embraced the two of them.

“So grown-up” cried Hagrid, wiping his tears away when he set them down, “I remember when yeh were both this tall” he gestured downwards, replicating their heights during the first-year and the couple nodded happily, red tinges on both their cheeks as the giggled at Hagrid’s remarks.

The rest of the night went by smoothly, exchanging numerous conversations with witches and wizards they could hardly remember their names of due to the amount of alcohol in their system. (Y/N) was spun around the dancefloor but all of the Weasley siblings, even performing an impressive three-person tango with Fred and George, who seemed to have more to drink than the newlyweds themselves. Charlie was joined on the dance floor by his mother and father, his best man, and, at one point, Jacob who had raised him onto his shoulders at the climax of the song.

While they were dancing, Ronald Weasley explained his blunder with Hermione at the ball to (Y/N), who automatically dragged him away to the muggle-born witch to correct his mistake and giggled excitedly when she saw the two twirling in a small circle with Harry and Ginny at their side. Some of the guests began to politely excused themselves by midnight, waving the couple off after leaving the gifts at the respective table and heading out towards the garden to the designated disappartation point.

The celebration did not stop until the first hints of sunlight gleamed over the horizon. At that point, most of the younger guests had retreated inside the home to sleep on transfigured mattresses set up throughout the newlyweds’ home. Rowan and Bill had to forcibly escort (Y/N) and Charlie away from the dance floor since the two expressed their desire to stay until the sun shone above them but kept closing their eyes as they embraced.

“Come on, little brother” chuckled Bill, winking at Rowan as he pushed Charlie, who continued to hum the processional song, up the stairs. Rowan blushed furiously at Bill’s actions but kept her eyes on (Y/N), who was spinning Great Aunt Tessie’s ruby tiara in her hands at the rhythm of Charlie’s humming, “I’ll have to thank you for that,” whispered Rowan excitedly, gazing longingly up at Bill and successfully getting the couple into the bedroom.

Bill removed their shoes while they giggled on the bed, exchanging several kisses while Rowan secured the tiara in its leather box, “Think we should help them change?” asked Rowan, turning towards Bill, but quickly realizing the answer to her question.

“I think that’ll be a no,” declared Bill, running a hand through his hair and extending the other towards Rowan, “Let’s go before we see something we don’t need to see. I think I saw an empty mattress in the room Andre is staying in.” Rowan nodded stiffly, sliding her hand into Bill’s and quickly closing the door behind her, locking the door for good measure.

On the bed, Charlie shrugged off his overcoat and threw it to the side while (Y/N) pulled on his tie, undoing it and tossing it with the rest of his outfit. His lips mashed against hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth as she gripped his head firmly, locking him in their embrace as she fell back on the mattress and her dress pooled underneath her.

“My dress,” she moaned against Charlie’s lips and he let out a small laugh, shrugging his dress shirt off and reaching behind for the zipper of her dress, “Of course, we can’t desecrate such a delicate creation,” he mumbled against her lips and lifted her up so she could wiggle out of it. (Y/N) laughed as the cold air hit her body, winking at Charlie as his eyes widened at the sight of the bright-white lacy lingerie she had hidden under her dress.

“Like what you see?” she teased, attempting to wriggle away from his grip, but he caught her by the waist and pulled her onto her back, “Don’t you dare, my darling” growled Charlie, pressing harsh kisses against her neck and pulling her stocking-clad thighs around his waist.

“I love you,” gasped (Y/N) as Charlie groped her breast, her fingernails digging into his broad back and her hips grinding upwards to meet his, “So so much.” Charlie cupped her cheek, harshly pulling her up to exchange another kiss, not satisfied – no matter how mesmerizing they were – by the previous ones.

“More,” groaned Charlie, his red-hair falling over his eyes as he pulled away to mutter against her lips, “I love you more” he breathed out, pressing kisses in between each word and pulling his wand out of his trousers, and uttering inaudible silencing charms towards the door.

The two of them grasped messily at each other, running their hands over each others’ bodies and leaving marks that would surely be visible in the afternoon.

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years

Note

This blog is fairly new and you’re one of the first I’ve found that I hadn’t already with an old blog. I love your work. It’s very well written. 💜

Thank you! When you sent this ask, it was a fairly new blog (to be fair, I still think of it as such, it’s not even 6 months old). As a little thank you for being so encouraging so early in the life of this blog, please accept this random little story: Geralt the accidental gardener.

The Path was lonely without Jaskier. Geralt had grown to hate the silence, the way people turned away from him without the buffer of Jaskier between him and humanity. But Jaskier was off on better adventured now, Geralt had to hurt him so he’d realise at long last that there was a better life for him out there than one beside a witcher. It had hurt, Jaskier’s expression had burned into Geralt’s mind, the crushing disappointment and realisation that Geralt wasn’t going to come crawling back. But oh how Geralt had wanted to run after Jaskier, beg his forgiveness. Alas, this was the very act of being cruel to be kind. Maybe one day Jaskier would realised.

Contracts were few and far between but the lands Geralt had roamed of late hadn’t been too hostile towards an infamous witcher. There was even a contract advertised in a lesser court not too far. Geralt made his way to Lettenhove and was ushered into a hall where the Viscount and Viscountess greeted him.

“I’m here about the job,” Geralt announced, not beating around the bush. Nobody ever wanted a witcher in their courts, no matter how small their power was. As expected, he was given a hesitant once over.

“Do you have experience?” It was the Viscountess who spoke up, looking only slightly unnerved.

“Yes.” There was no point for Geralt to prove his worth, they either wanted him to deal with their issue or they would suffer until another witcher graced their courts with his presence.

“Then it is settled. Room and food are part of your contract. Reydan will show you to your quarters and tomorrow he will give you a tour. Your horse will be welcome in the stables of course.”

That was a much warmer and pleasant contract negotiation than Geralt had ever had. Even when he heard the Viscount mutter “you sure about this?” and the Viscountess’ “we owe him this much” which made Geralt frown in confusion. Maybe the Viscountess was one of those who hoped to bed a witcher for the novelty of it. That was Jaskier’s forte though, not Geralt’s, he tried not to tangle with anyone in a relationship.

The room Geralt was shown to was in the servants’ quarters and actually nicer than anything he’d ever had. Even Kaer Morhen paled in comparison. His window overlooked the garden to start with. And the bedding wasn’t torn or moth eaten. In fact, it looked barely used at all. The Viscountess was almost definitely a monster fucker. Geralt would do the job and get out as quickly as possible before things got awkward.

Settled into the room for the night, Geralt was surprised when Reydan knocked for him, inviting him to the servants’ dinner for the evening. It was strangely nice, being surrounded by humans who, while a little wary, were doing their best to be welcoming and friendly. They treated him like one of their own. For the first time in a very long time, Geralt felt at ease amongst humans.

Morning came sooner than expected and Geralt groaned, pulling his armour on, strapping his swords to his back, ready for Reydan to take him to where the beast was. He didn’t expect to be given a baffled look by Reydan but be led into the garden without comment. Various plants were pointed out, rose bushes, a vegetable garden, arches of wisteria and so many others that Geralt had never even heard of. It was all very nice but he couldn’t figure out what this had to do with monster killing. Maybe those were the plants the monster liked? Or the ones he was to avoid while battling the creature that haunted the gardens? The answer came as they walked through the front gardens and stopped to admire an apple tree. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a sign being removed from the front of the property.

Gardener wanted

Oh fuck. Somehow the Viscount and Viscountess had assumed he was there for the gardener position and not the creature killing one. They took one look at him and, despite his inhuman looks, swords and general demeanour, they decided he couldn’t possibly be a witcher but rather an unusual gardener.

“That is about all that you’ll be responsible for.” Reydan finished up and looked over Geralt. “Do you have anything more suitable to work in? Leather tends to get too warm. And we have pruning shears which are more efficient than swords.” Laughing awkwardly, Reydan gave Geralt a small smile. “And I don’t think I ever caught your name, I’m so sorry.”

This was a crossroad in Geralt’s Path. He could either declare this had been some great mistake and he was here for the monster. It would be awkward, he’d be sneered at, ostracised and thrown out for taking their resources, even if by mistake. He’d still kill the monster but probably to take his frustrations out rather than for coin. Or, he could lay his swords down for a while. The world was tiring and disappointing. One evening in the company of people who treated him as an equal had been invigorating and, selfishly, Geralt wanted more.

“I’m Eric,” he said, quietly sending a “fuck you” to Vesemir who had denied him the name.

Gardening, Geralt realised was more difficult than he had ever thought if would be. Knowing what to cut when and how, which trees needed what compost or how much water was beyond him. Geralt tried his best though, tried to watch what everyone else was doing. Thankfully, Reydan had been kind enough to find him some dungarees and a floppy, wide brimmed hat to work in. He had been absolutely right, such work in his leathers would have been worse than uncomfortable.

Miraculously, none of the plants in his care died. Sometimes it looked like a close call, Geralt fretting that he’d cut something at the wrong time or the wrong way but, somehow, the plants survived his inexperience. Even better, the other servants and staff seemed to genuinely warm to him. The few times he encountered the Viscount or Viscountess, they nodded and smiled at him, only once enquiring how he was settling in. As well as food and room, Geralt was granted a weekly wage which might have been meagre but it was more and steadier than he had ever had before. While he was loath to spend it, he found that it built up into a tidy little stash at a surprising speed. Soon, Geralt was going to be the richest witcher in existence.

To keep his skills sharp and also repay the kindness of those around him, Geralt secretly sneaked out at nights and on his days off to slay local monsters. It was both to keep his newfound job safe and also to feel that he hadn’t quite given up on being a witcher. Merely, he was taking an unofficial hiatus.

Months down the line, Geralt was cutting roses for the dinner hall bouquet when a murmur went up around him. He couldn’t see the cause of it but the words were easy enough to hear.

“He’s back!”

“The little master is home!”

“He’ll be so happy we followed his request.”

While Geralt didn’t get a glimpse of the ‘Little Master’, everyone seemed to be cheered by his appearance. In fact, the whole court was in a bubbling upheaval. A feast was ordered and all servants were invited to take part in the meal in the main hall to celebrate. Curious, Geralt let himself be playfully bullied into attending too. He didn’t quite blend in with the rest of the servants but the crowd was almost large enough to swallow him. It was nowhere near enough though when he walked in and sat at the high table with the Viscount and Viscountess was none other than Jaskier who was staring right back at him.

Noting their staring, the Viscountess scowled at Jaskier then rose, dragging what was so evidently her son behind her.

“Julian,” she said, stopping in front of Geralt. “While you’ve been away, we’ve hired a new gardener. This is...Eric.”

“Eric?” Jaskier looked incredulous.

“Yes. He has been with us for a few months. Eric, this is my son, Julian. He’s often away, travelling the continent as a bard.”

Sudden bright, clear laughter broke out from Jaskier, head tipped back, eyes creased and mouth wide open.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he gasped. “Can we stop this charade. Geralt, what the fuck? Mother, this is the bastard who broke my heart.” Without any warning, he swept Geralt into a hug. “You fell off the face of the continent without anyone knowing what had happened. Eskel and Lambert mourned for you, you bastard.”

At least the Viscountess looked relieved rather than anything else. “You asked us, Julian, that if any witcher ever came, especially one with white hair, we would make sure to give them respite. So we did.” Sniffing daintily, she looked at Geralt. “No offence Eric, Geralt, whatever, but you make a shit gardener. Poor Reydan had to sneak around after you to try and keep the plants you butchered alive.”

Jaskier laughed even more at that and a few of the braver servants crowded closer, listening. Geralt looked at them all, the ones he had been able to call his friends for the last few months. They all knew he was a witcher and yet welcomed him with open arms just because Jaskier had asked his parents to help. All in all, Geralt felt rather foolish.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll leave immediately.”

A hand shot out to grab his arm. “Or you could stay.” Jaskier said.

“Just please, spare the plants.” That was Reydan interrupting, giving Geralt a friendly slap on the back. More of the servants echoed Jaskier’s suggestions that he could stay, at least until Jaskier went back on the road.

There was a bit of an uproar when Geralt didn’t move to the high table to catch up with Jaskier. Instead, Jaskier had moved down to his table and joined the servants. Oddly, Jaskier’s parents only looked on fondly.

As the meal wound down, gossip was exchanged, Geralt laughed at in a friendly way for all his bumblings as an incompetent gardener, it was time to retire for the night.

“Come to my rooms for a nightcap?” Jaskier asked, a hand on Geralt’s arm. “I feel we have a lot to discuss and catch up on.”

Hesitant at first, Geralt accepted the invitation and followed Jaskier to his rooms. If Geralt had thought his room was fancy, Jaskier’s were downright lavish.

“Got something to say to me?” Jaskier asked, a smile teasing at his lips.

“You engineered all of this?” It wasn’t at all what Geralt wanted to say but it was what came out to start with.

“Oh come now, if a witcher comes looking for a job in these lands, it means he’s desperate. My parents know how to keep beasties to a minimum here. I’m thinking we should have Lambert come this way next, he’d excel as a cook for a few months.”

A very good idea, Geralt could imagine Lambert taking to life in the kitchen, experimenting with the spices on offer. It would do him good to have a break too. And Eskel, though he probably would be better in the stables. And Vesemir too, if he could be enticed there, he would excel as an adviser to the household. But that was all beside the point, Geralt had something much more important to say.

“Thank you. And I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing for you.” Geralt hadn’t thought Jaskier would still travel as a bard, had assumed he’d settle in a court. Instead, he’d sought out other wolves and kept them company.

“Never do that again.” Jaskier’s face hardened. “If you have a concern, speak. Don’t make my decisions for me.”

Nodding, Geralt looked a little chastised. It had been so much easier to express emotions recently, around friends.

“Now. I do believe before you so rudely chose our paths for us, we were building towards something quite beautiful.” Jaskier handed Geralt a glass of something rich and smooth. The clinked glasses. A week later, they were leaving Lettenhove together, once more a witcher and a bard rather than a gardener and a viscount.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #gardening au #tldr: geralt accidentally becomes a gardener

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the-friendly-struggling-writer · 3 years

Text

Logan and Remus’ day in

Sanders Sides gift exchange present for @alicat54c. Hope you enjoy this story, happy Christmas and new year. @sanderssidesgiftxchange also posted on my main blog

Small warming contains:

blood, scalpels, dissection of the heart and lungs, food, and discussion of diseases.

Remus and Logan spend a nice quiet day together in the mindscape.

“Hey, Lo Lo,” Remus whispered in Logan’s ear as he popped up behind him, covering his boyfriend’s eyes with his hands. “Did you know that the ‘Black Death’ wasn’t originally called the Black Death; It was called ‘The Pestilence’ or ‘The Great Mortality’. Which rhymes with Morality. Almost spelled the same too.” Logan internally sighed of fondness. Softly breaking Remus’ hold over his eyes, Logan turned around on the couch. He had been sitting on it but the position that he had changed to was now kneeling on it, with arms braised against the back of the couch for support. The couch’s surface bending to adjust to Logan’s new position. Facing Remus, Logan slowly moved his head forward and kissed Remus on the lips, stopping him from talking for a moment.

“If you wanted to get down and dirty then you could have just said so,” suggested Remus as he winked one eye and then the other at Logan. Before he vaulted over the back of the couch to sit next to his gorgeous boyfriend. Logan in return let out a rare giggle that was reserved for Remus, and Remus only. Whenever Remus ended up making Logan giggle it made Remus’ insides all hot and sticky like they had become molten magma swirling inside the earth or maybe the melted insides of a chocolate brownie or maybe molten magma in a chocolate brownie, Logan and him could try and come up with a recipe for them. ‘That was a good idea,’ thought Remus.

“So,” began Logan as the giggling died down, “What have you got planned for this afternoon?” He asked as he set down the book on plagues that he had been reading for the past hour or so before Remus had shown up. The book must have been the thing that had given Remus the idea about the comment about the black death that he had made before he sat down next to Logan.

“I‘m not sure yet,” Remus thought for a second as he shrugged his shoulders before he next spoke, “I just came to see if you were busy or not. It looks like you aren’t so… I was wondering if I could give you something.” Logan didn’t even have time to respond before something was shoved in front of his face. Before that had happened, Logan was going to say that Remus could do so, but his boyfriend had done it before Logan could have even tried to get a word out. Sitting in a not so neat position in Remus’ hands, was a slowly beating heart, with fresh oxygenated blood running down Remus’ arms and onto the sleeves of the outfit that he was wearing. Because of its black colouring, any stains would not be noticeable at first. Well, until you caught wind of the smell of the dried blood.

“Here,” said Remus as he handed the still struggling heart to Logan, his sharp teeth being revealed as he smiled at his Lo Lo. As Logan carefully took to heart from Remus’ hold, blood began to run down the pale skin of his wrists and then down his arms.

Logan looked from the heart to his boyfriend, and then back at the heart. “Remus, is there anything pacific that you would like me to do with this?” asked Logan as he softly tilted his head to the side and brought it to eye level to get a closer look at it.

Remus gently shrugged his shoulders with a small smile written upon his face. If Roman was there he would have described the scene as his brother having love hearts floating around his head, even if they weren’t physically there. Roman would have also described Logan as having shining stars in his eyes with the way that he was looking at Remus. Logan’s expression broke into another smile. “So it’s ok if we dissect it together then?” Remus’ own heart sped up that idea. Nodding his head in excitement, Remus almost ended up falling off of the couch. Almost. Logan carefully but quickly moved the heart into just one hand, and the other one, stained with blood, grabbed hold of Remus’ hand, pulling him up into a standing position. Saving him from falling on the floor.

“Come on then,” encouraged Logan as he pulled Remus along into the kitchen by the hand. As the pair arrived in the room Logan summoned a wooden cutting board, 3 different sized scalpels, and some plastic tubs. The last one just in case anything was needed to be put in a container or two. All of the items appeared in an organized fashion on the light brown kitchen table. The scalpel in size order on the left side of the board; The tubs on the right.

As Logan placed the heart down on the wooden board it finally stopped beating. Meanwhile, Remus had been dragging over two chairs that matched the table, getting bloodstains on the places where he had touched them. ‘I’ll clean that up later,’ thought Logan as Remus finished adjusting them in the place that he wanted. “Would you like to help me?” asked Logan, sitting in the chair to the left of the board.

“Naw,” Remus answered back to Logan, lightly bounding his forehead against Logan’s shoulder in a show of affection. Remus was just wanting to watch Logan take apart the heart, and then maybe some other things that he summoned up. “I’m good to just watch you,” he added before standing on the chair that was free and then crouched down so that he was at the same height as his boyfriend. ‘The perfect height to give surprises’, thought Remus, ‘such as this’, before Remus kissed Logan on the check. Red spreading across Logan’s face.

Logan smiled back at Remus and then turned his attention back to the activity in front of him. Picking up the biggest scalpel, Logan carefully pressed the sharp blade against the surface of the heart, slicing across the top layer of the muscle. More dark blood seeping out of the opening.

Gently placing the scalpel back into the position that it was in before, but before Logan did anything next a soft snap sound came from his right side. Turning his head, Logan to Remus who was holding a pair of plastic blue gloves. Handing them to his boyfriend Remus spoke up, ”You forgot these, I thought that you would want them.”

It was a little late if Logan had wanted to avoid getting blood on his hands, but Logan really appreciated the gesture coming from his boyfriend. Taking the gloves from Remus, both of their expressions lighting up at the simple but meaningful interaction between them. Sliding them on to his hands, Logan then held his hands on either side of the incision in the heart, pulling each side apart to get a look inside, with some of the chambers of the heart revealed.

The pair sat in silence until Remus broke it, no longer being able to stand it, before blurting out what he was thinking about. “I did you know that more blood goes to your kidneys,” he said as he poked Logan in the side, “Than your brain.” This time poking Logan’s head.

“Yes Re, I did. That’s because your kidneys filter waste products out of your blood so more does need to go through them than your brain. Did you know that the Heart on average only weighs about 11 ounces.” Answered Logan, “Also the length of time that this heart beat out of a body that you gave me was extremely accurate. Just about a minute or so.” Added Logan, as he was finishing up dissecting the heart.

“Hey Smarty, do you want to dissect something else?” Asked Remus, making it look like the heart pieces had vanished. Well they hadn’t, Remus had just moved them to his room for a project that he was going to make later that night. He didn’t know what that was yet but he would come up with something.

“What did you have in mind?” Asked Logan as he cleaned off the cutting board and the set of scalpels. Logan was happy to dissect anything that Remus summoned, as long as Remus was enjoying himself.

“Since they are related, why not do the lungs next?” Asked Remus, not expecting an answer but he got one anyway.

“Well one reason to not do the lung is,” But before he could finish that sentence he was cut off by Remus grabbing his blue and black tie, and ruffly kissing him. Which snapped him out of his train of thought.

“That wasn’t what I had meant, my Dork,” Said Remus as he pulled back. Logan’s skin heated up in embarrassment, but also from the kiss that Remus had just given him.

“Oh right,” half laughed Logan as Remus summoned a pair of lungs onto the board in front of them. Directing his attention back to the dissection in front of them, Logan then went back to work. “The name lung comes from the word ‘lunge’ which means ‘light,’ commented Logan as he cut apart part of the left lung.

“Really?” responded Remus, before he answered back with his own fact. “Lungs can float on water. Cause some air is still in there, even after you have breathed out. Also lungs are the only organ that can float in water. Well unless you drown them I guess, I’ll need to work that into an idea in the future.” Remus decided as he stared off to the other side of the room that they were in, trying to come up with a new idea.

As Remus was doing that, Logan was finishing dissecting the lungs after having a good look at them. But it was clear to Logan the Remus attention was headed somewhere else, so this was just as good a time as any to tidy up the equipment and the now dried blood stains, such as on the backs of the chairs that they were sitting on as well as the stains on the sleeve of Remus’ outfit. That would save Remus the effort of doing it later, and maybe from getting more blood on anything else as well.

“Re,” said Logan to get Remus’ attention onto him so that he was listening to him. Remus in turn made a small noise in acknowledgement of Logan. “So I was thinking since we have now done that, I was wondering if we shall get a quick snack before we move onto something else. Would that be ok dear?” Asked Logan before he stood up and tucked the chair under the wooden table.

“Yeah, of course.” exclaimed Remus as he sprang out for the chair he had awkwardly been sitting/standing on, the chair falling down and slamming it’s back against the hard floor. Remus then dashed to the cupboard to the fridge and then back to the cupboard again. This left Logan to pick up the chair and put it back into its right place. Shaking his head, Logan smiled with endearment for Remus as he watched him run about the kitchen like a headless chicken. Logan wondered if that was something that they could experiment with in the future together.

Going over to the cupboard that was next to the fridge, Logan pulled open the door and took out the half used jar of crofters. After placing it on the counter top, Logan set about making some toast for the jam to go on. Once Logan had assembled his snack, he turned to Remus who had just finished getting his own food sorted. His choice of food today was warm popcorn with some little bits of white chocolate spread across the top. It was one of the few snacks that both Remus and Patton could agree on.

Wrapping his arm around Logan's waist, Remus led the two of them into the living room. First Remus sat down on the dark coloured couch, his legs spreading across the rest of the couch. Pulling Logan to sit down in between them, Remus pulled his legs over Logan’s, trapping him there. Not that Logan wouldn't want to be there. Logan’s back softly comes to meet Remus’ chest.

“Lo Lo,” started Remus with bits of food almost falling out his mouth as he spoke, “did you know that there is a disease that can actually cause you to cough blood and stuff. Cool right?”

“Well I wouldn’t call it cool myself but Tuberculosis, if that is the one that you are talking about.” Remus quickly nodded confirming Logan’s thought process. Seeing Remus’ response Logan continued. “But it is interesting that about a third of people carry that bacterium that causes it but does not show any symptoms of the disease. Also only 5 to 10% of the third will be either sick or infectious with it at sometime in their lifetime.” Logan explained. Remus loved when Logan explained sciency stuff to him, and bringing up stuff like that always kicked off that type of conversation.

After the pair had finished eating Remus took his bowl and the plate from Logan, he then dropped them down on the carpeted floor. Leaving them to be picked up by someone else at a later time. “Oh yeah, what was the one that doesn’t let you sleep? Like at all once it starts.” Asked Remus wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s chest. Logan then in turn moved his head into a better position that it was just below Remus’ chin.

“The one that you are thinking about is called Fatal Familial Insomnia. It stops your ability to sleep, this then makes the person suffering from insomnia to then slip into psychosis. That stops you from being able to tell what is real and what isn’t. Then over a period of time such as a few months it would kill them. There is also no cure or ways to try and treat it. Well at least not yet in any case,” Logan yawned as he finished speaking.

“Ok then, tell me about a really weird one. Like the absolute weirdest one that you are able to think of,” requested Remus as he too ended up yawning.

Logan thought for a minute before he responded to Remus’ inquiry. “Well I don’t know if it does have a name but in 1485 a disease broke out which caused people to sweat to death in a number of hours. It supposedly killed tens of thousands of people because it disappeared as soon as it had come. If that isn’t weird then I don’t know if you can get much weird when it comes to diseases,” Logan added.

“That is an interesting one,” Re commented before he summoned a green and dark blue blanket on top of the two of them. The blanket was thick and soft, spreading across the entire length of the couch. The pair both knew that there was no point in struggling to stay awake. So the pair snuggled into each other. “You want to know what Lo Lo,” Logan pushed deeper into his boyfriend. Remus yawned before he next spoke, “That I love you so much.”

Logan yawned too before he turned around onto Remus’ stomach so that he was facing his boyfriend, so they both wrapped their arms around each other. The blanket partly slipping off of them because of their movement “I Love you too, Re. I love you so much too.” Logan said as Remus readjusted the blanket back into its right place before the pair of sides slowly slipped into the darkness of the unconscious.

#franthehorsegirl's fanfics #fran's stuff #sanders sides fanfic #ts logan #ts remus #intrulogical #fanfic

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franthehorsegir · 3 years

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Logan and Remus’ day in

Sanders Sides gift exchange present for @alicat54c. Hope you enjoy this story, happy Christmas and new year. @sanderssidesgiftxchange also posted on my writing blog

Small warming contains:

blood, scalpels, dissection of the heart and lungs, food, and discussion of diseases.

Remus and Logan spend a nice quiet day together in the mindscape.

“Since they are related, why not do the lungs next?” Asked Remus, not expecting an answer but he got one anyway.

“That wasn’t what I had meant, my Dork,” Said Remus as he pulled back. Logan’s skin heated up in embarrassment, but also from the kiss that Remus had just given him.

“Lo Lo,” started Remus with bits of food almost falling out his mouth as he spoke, “did you know that there is a disease that can actually cause you to cough blood and stuff. Cool right?”

“Ok then, tell me about a really weird one. Like the absolute weirdest one that you are able to think of,” requested Remus as he too ended up yawning.

#franthehorsegir's fanfics #fran's stuff #sanders sides fanfiction #ts logan #ts remus #intrulogical #fanfic

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talicat713 · 4 years

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It's Always Been Molly

John Shelby x OC

Part Four

**credits to @romelzacarnes for the GIF**

A/N: New update is here. I usually use this space to give you a little update on how the writing of this story is going. But today I am going to use it to shout out @lotsoflovefromlea. She was the one who got me into Peaky Blinders. She was one of the people who encouraged me to write and post this story. Today she announced she was taking down her blog. I’m deeply saddened by this and will miss her dearly. I hate to see a wonderful writer fall and her work be deleted. Part Four is dedicated to you today Lea! You will be seriously missed my love. Much Love 💜

Warnings: language, angst

PART ONE ; PART TWO ; PART THREE

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**If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know**

Taglist: @haphazardhufflepuff @rebel-without-cause-x @lotsoflovefromlea @theunderlier @envysorrows @healthygirlsdoitbetter @account71453 @blindedbypeaky @xshinytrashcanx @wednesdayqueen-18 @chaotichurricaneoffandoms @jrdpdlcki @lettersshapes @rosesandrap @jenni-jones00

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As the days turned to weeks, Molly was settling into a routine working for the Shelbys. She would wake up early to get herself ready, then pop over to find Finn. He spent most of his days with her. Of course the little boy didn’t mind because he adored Molly.

Molly tried to distract him from his brothers, but most times it didn’t work. If they were out and Finn saw either of his brothers, he would run to them and leave her for the day. She also was trying really hard to teach him how to read and write. He was getting better, but still wasn’t one-hundred percent interested.

Once the betting shop closed for the day, Polly would come to collect Finn for supper. She would stay and chat with her for a little while. Molly always watched out the window in the sitting room to see when John had left. The two of them had not spoken to each other since the family meeting. Both he and Polly were still not happy about her working for them, but she reassured Polly every day that this is what she wanted.

Once Polly leaves with Finn, Molly heads over to tidy up the shop. This usually takes her a few hours and when she’s done, she heads home to make supper for Jacob and herself.

Throughout all those weeks, John never asked Molly to help him with his kids. She didn’t know why since that’s what she has hired to do. She knew John was having trouble keeping them in order.

It wasn’t until one morning while she was looking for Finn that Polly said he was down with John. She didn’t know if Polly had sent him down there on purpose, so it would force the two of them to talk. With a sigh, Molly turned on her heels and headed to Johns. Half way she looked back at Polly, who was smiling. She was definitely up to something.

Once at the door, Molly took a deep breath and knocked. She could hear the kids running around and John shouting at them to be quiet. He opened the door surprised, “Molly what are you doing here?”

Molly looked up at him, “I’m here to collect Finn. Is he here?”

While waiting for his answer, she took a look at his appearance. He looked tired and defeated. He was only dressed in his night clothes which meant he was running behind. “Finn was...” before he could finish, she saw a little boy walk up to John, tugging on his shirt, “Daddy I’m hungry.”

John picked up the boy and whispered something to him, then set him down, and he ran off. He then looked back at Molly,” Sorry, Finn was here, but Aunt Pol picked him a little while ago. I’m sorry to rush you away, but I need to get them sorted.”

“Let me help,” she said quickly.

“Are you sure? ,” he asked back.

Molly nodded and John stepped back, so she could come through the door and lead her toward the kitchen. Molly looked around the house. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. She then noticed four pairs of eyes on her. All four of them looked like John. She could see hints of Martha in all of them, but mostly the young girl.

Molly didn’t notice her eyes filled with tears until one excepted down her cheek. She quickly blinked the rest away and wiped her cheek, hoping John didn’t see. They all stood in silence until John cleared his throat and finally spoke up, “Right kids, this is Molly. She’s going to make you breakfast whilst I get ready. Then we have to go find someone to mind you for the day.”

Before John headed up the stairs, Molly lightly grabbed his arm,” I can stay with them today. It’s what I’m here for.”

“Okay, but only if you are sure. They are a handful,” John said, walking up the stairs, not waiting for her answer.

Molly just smiled and turned back to the kids, “Okay kiddies, who wants to help with breakfast?” She instantly got four little hands up in the air.

“Well, come on then,” she said excitedly.

A little while later, John can down the stairs, only to hear the clanks to silverware on the plates, the kids speaking softly to another and Molly at the sink washing up the dishes. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the silence, sighing with relief. He also was watching Molly. He loved seeing her there in his home with his kids, and hoped one day, now that she was back, they would become her kids.

Molly had been in her own thoughts and didn’t hear John come up behind her. He put a hand gently on her shoulder, which scared her. “Shit. John! ,” she gasped. She then grabbed the dish towel and hit him with it,” Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a woman,” she chuckled.

“Sorry,” holding his hands up in defense,” I just wanted to let you know I was heading out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll tell Tommy that you're not tidying today,” he said. He then moved his hand to grab hers squeezing it.

“Thank you for doing this. I never wanted to ask you.”

“John it’s fine. You go to work. I’ll be here when you get back. Tell Polly to send Finn down when he gets to be too much,” she then looked down at their hands. She quickly pulled it away so he could leave. She was trying really hard not to let the simple gesture, let him back into her heart.

It hurt John a little at how fast she pulled her hand away, but he knew why she did it. He gave Molly a small, sad smile and turned to the kids. They had been watching the two closely. Molly was the first woman John had let into the house besides their usual nanny.

John kissed the kids on the head and headed toward the door. He had almost closed it when he heard Molly yell,” Wait John, your breakfast.”

Molly quickly walked to the door and handed him the plate with a smile. He gave a simple nod and walked down the street. Molly then closed the door and leaned her back against it, letting out a sigh.

It was getting harder for her to not fall in love with him again.

John had sent Finn down to tell Molly he wasn’t going to be home until late. She didn’t mind. The kids were very well-behaved for her. There we only a few squabbles between the two littlest ones, but nothing Molly couldn’t handle.

She had them all help her tidy up the house, then they played out back for a little while Molly fixed them supper.

After supper, the older two helped the younger two to bed while Molly cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. The house looked completely different from when she walked in this morning. Once she finished, she went to tuck all the kids into bed.

Another hour had passed before John came home. She could tell he had been to the Garrison. They must have had some Peaky business. She could smell the smoke and alcohol as soon as the door opened.

Molly was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard the door open, and John walked in. She had been looking at a photo album Martha made for John while he was at war. It had been unfinished since she had died before he came back.

He came to sit down with her, “I thought I hid that. Katie must have found it again.”

Molly looked up at him,” Why would you hide it? They need to remember her, especially the twins.” She looked down at a picture of Martha with a big belly. She still looked beautiful, even very pregnant and very tired.

John then changed the subject, “You didn’t need to clean this place. I’m sure the kids were a handful.”

Molly looked back up at him with a smile, “Actually, they were angels for me. After the way you and Pol talked about them, I was nervous. But they were honestly perfect. They even helped me tidy up.”

John gave her an amused look, almost as if he didn’t believe her. He then reached his hand out to hold hers like he did earlier that morning. This time she didn’t pull away.

“You know Molly, I really missed you,” he said as he rubbed circles into the back of her hand.

Molly’s eyes then started to water. For the first time in all these years she felt guard letting up. Three small gestures were all it took. She took her free hand to her mouth to muffle a sob, “I know. And I you, but I can’t just let you in. You broke me John. You cheated and you lied about it. Then the proof showed itself at the worst time in my life. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stay here and watch her steal my life. I was supposed to be the one you married, the one who carried your babies, the one to love you forever. But you both stole that from me when you slept with her.”

She pulled her hand away from his and wiped her tears. John just stared at her, tears in his own eyes. He hated seeing Molly cry.

After minutes of silence, Molly stood up to leave,” I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m going to go. Let me know when you’ll need me to watch them again.”

As she walked past John, who was still sitting at the table, he reached to grab her again. Turning to her and standing, “I know I messed up and hurt you. But I’m willing and ready to make it up to you. I’ll wait as long as I need to, and that’s a promise.”

He then pressed his forehand to hers, “It’s always been you Molly. I’ve only ever wanted to be with you.”

Molly’s eyes started to water again,” You should have thought about that eight years ago John, then those kids upstairs would have been mine,” she whispered. She then gave John a soft kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.

(posted 07/11/2020)

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #talicat imagines

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moonblssm · 4 years

Text

everyday job au | any member

listen to — Friday, I’m In Love by The Cure

、firefighter!stray kids

the youngest firefighter of the county

followed after his dad and older brother’s footsteps - he and his brother are in the same squadron; his dad is retired

the team’s dalmatian named otis is actually the family dog and likes him the most

he isn’t the best or worst at cooking, but his food is always praised because everyone thinks his effort is so cute

seven out of ten times they go on a call and after they save people and stop the actual fires, people from the surrounding area tend to crowd at the barrier to get a good look at him

he is part of the team that always gets hired for birthday parties and is the one that kids always cling to

always wraps his arms around the kids when he helps them spray water from the hose

you had actually met him because of this

you were new to the town, so you decided you should go out and walk your dog to take a look around the town

the next thing you know, a stream of water comes flying over the red firetruck parked in the driveway of the station and blasts you on the sidewalk

his head whips up when he hears little shouts from the other side of the truck

oh my gosh, i just sprayed someone with the hose

gently - but quickly - taking the hose from the birthday girl, he immediately turns off and drops the hose to run and check on what had happened

there, he finds you, drenched from head to toe, checking on the young husky at your side who had also gotten slightly wet from the hose - the pup had seemed happy instead of startled of the spray

oh my gosh, that someone is extremely adorable

you tell him you’re okay when he asks, gently grabbing you by the forearms to help you up

“oh my, i’m so sorry.”

something about the way the man in front of you gazes down into your eyes has you charmed, and you can’t help but nervously laugh when you object his offer to bring you into the station for a change of clothes

however, he insists, and before you know it, you’re sitting in the office in front of a heater with a towel wrapped around your shoulders

the heat contrasting from the cold water feels nice against your skin, and you snuggle further into it

you watch as he runs back outside to finish the party, heart melting when his legs are immediately attacked by the hugs of several toddlers

you’re still thinking about the way he picked up and spun around the birthday girl before putting her on his shoulders for the group picture when he walks back into the office with a big smile on his face

“how are you doing?”

you chuckle, wrapping the towel even tighter around yourself as he leans hinself on the doorframe of the office

he looks....undeniably attractive - with his casual uniform on, a gray tshirt tucked into navy cargo pants and black boots - and the way he gazes down at you makes you feel a little small

his wavy hair - though he told you he’d been at the station for 24 hours already - remains perfect, looking soft and fluffy despite the fact that he may not have showered for a while

“still cold, but i’m okay, really.”

“here.”

from behind his back, he pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a crewneck sweater

“they’re mine, but you can borrow them for now.”

your hands stop in midair, mouth hanging open as you think about whether or not you should take them from him

“i-i can’t, these are for you to change into. you’ve been here for almost a day already, right?”

he only pushes them towards you more

“i insist. besides, it was kinda my fault.”

your skin turns pink when you realize that you’ll be fulfilling a fanfic-like scene if you take the change of clothes from a man you just met

but you’re also very uncomfortable and cold so you find yourself walking back out of the bathroom in warm clothes too big for you

you don’t miss how his face flushes red when he stands up from where near and your dogs are laying - handing you a plastic bag with your clothes

“i’ll walk you out.”

with a shy smile on his face, you and your dog follow him out of the station - him even walking you all the way out to the corner of the block

when you get home, a small piece of paper flutters to the floor when you take the clothes out to do your laundry

“let me know when we can meet so i can get my clothes back! maybe we can walk the pups together too? (xxx) xxx-xxxx

for the next week and a half, you and him start to text each other constantly throughout the day

the squad doesn’t fail to notice the little grin that shows up on his face whenever he’s looking at his phone

don’t even mention the one time you sent him a lame - but cute cause it’s you - dad joke about a fire hydrant

the paramedics swore they heard him giggle

him - the totally manly, serious dreamboat with a perfect swoosh in his hair that the ladies always fell for - giggled

no one said anything because god knows what would happen if they did?

last time someone teased him about attracting all the ladies, he got so embarrassed that he blushed, squealed, and laughed so loudly as he stuffed his face into the back of his brother’s jacket

the afternoon you decide to swing by the firehouse, you shoot him a quick text that you’ll be dropping by to bring his clothes back

the only thing that the rest of the squad sees his a blur as their youngest firefighter sprints by to tidy himself up from the call they had just gotten back from

but not before accidentally leaving his phone on the counter for the rest of the company to see your ‘great! i’ll see you in ten minutes!’ text

as he walks back into the “living room” of the headquarters, everyone watches him from their places at the couches or tables, smirking at the fact that the usual sixteen minutes it took him to shower and change into his casual uniform was reduced to four minutes

“what?”

he can only turn a darker shade of red as his fellow company members start whooping and cheering, even patting him on the back and hooking their arm around his neck

congratulating and teasing him for possibly having his first s/o since high school (the boy was too dedicated for his career to date)

loud laughter only escapes his mouth as he tries to wave them off so he can prepare himself for seeing you again

he doesn’t even have another five minutes before bear starts barking happily at the entrance of the building, signaling that their receptionist let you in

everyone’s head whips around to you and your dog, who nearly jumps at the sudden attention, but you regain your composure to give the whole group a small smile and bow

“hi, is — here?”

you can’t see him from where he is being tackled by his brother and some of the other men in his company

one woman shoves through the huddle to pull the boy in question out and pushes him towards you before trying to usher the squadron back to their original seats

he ends up stumbling before you before he regains his balance to take the neatly folded pile of clothes you borrowed from him

the way his hair is fixed messily hits your heart along with how adorable he looks no matter how ‘serious’ he’s supposed to look in his uniform

"hey.”

“hi. thanks for letting me borrow them.”

he insists that there’s no need to thank him - he was the one who attacked you with the hose

“listen, i’ve been - ”

someone snickers from the couch, but you miss the glare that he sends them as you pull something out of your bag

“i was wondering - ”

you motion for him to go first with an awkward, breathy laugh as you hand stops rummaging through your backpack, but as the gentleman he is, he insists that you go first

“i’ve been having so much fun talking to you lately. i don’t know if i’m the only one who feels something between us, but would a date sometime tonight be too much to ask for to figure things out? i brought a peace offering.”

you only give him a smile before pulling out a hand-made dog-toy you put together for bear

“he'd be happy to!”

“go now! we can handle it if anything comes up.”

“his shift is over anyway.”

he looks at you after watching the company decide for him, a developing grin on his lips

“i run into burning buildings, run from explosions, jump into bodies of water, and climb up trees for my job every day, but none of that adrenaline beats the exhilaration i feel when i’m talking to you. i’d love to.”

a/n — yes, i’ve been m.i.a. writing wise and i’m sorrryy! but i would like to say thank you to my petal pals @masterninjacow, @seungmate, and @jsmrtist for ideas for my first series! this ones for you guys. to everyone who’s been waiting, thank you for being patient with me! (pt. 2) i got just a little....just a teeny bit👌🏼 carried away with the younger members? maybe, maybe not (i didn’t realize how long the story backgrounds ended up being) (pt. 3) @jsmrtist flicked me on the cheek when she read the last line, ELENA THAT HURT

edit: we don’t support assholes on this blog so here’s an open bias au for everyone ;) please let me know if i left any cursed names here :)

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pbandjesse · 3 years

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I did not sleep well last night and I was worried it would make today bad but honestly I had another really awesome day. I am so sad that tomorrow is the last day Ill be there until the summer. But also like. It feels good to feel so good at work again.

But like I said. Sleep was bad last night. My back hurt really bad and I tried everything I know. Stretching, laying in the studio, laying on the couch. I just could not feel comfortable and I was super upset. I eventually fell asleep but it was way closer to 2am than I expected.

So when my alarm went off I was very. Unhappy. But I got up and got dressed and honestly I felt good. Or at least good enough. James was kind enough to put air in the car tires so i wouldnt have to worry about it. And I was able to leave a little later today and still get to work before anyone else.

I had a lovely day. It was cool but much less windy and I was much more comfortable. And it was really a great time. I got all the art supplies together, and put that all in the cabins. The kids got there pretty quick and we went up to the cabin before we headed to do some rope things. I am really lucky because this group is just so chill and kind. They have made this week such a great time and I just feel really lucky. They are just all so nice.

When we got to the cabin we had a few minutes so we played a name game and they did a good job. They really "buy in" to the who hokey camp thing and it makes things so much nicer and more fun. And when we did the rope element they all worked so well together to encourage eachother. Just such excellent kids.

We made an obstacle course for their field time. I tidied up the sports shed while the kids got the course ready. I had a lot of fun cleaning that up and when the kids ran their course I timed them and the best time was 38 seconds. It was so fun.

We did lunch and I have to repack my food because I felt sick eating what I packed. I will go figure that out after I finish this up. When the kids were done with lunch I set up art supplies and they made paper collages. They love the idea of doing community projects together so they made a collage as a group. And the ones who wanted to do something else collected large sticks for our shelter building project tomorrow. Its supposed to rain tomorrow so we wanted to get all the wood on the porch so it wouldnt be wet and we could potentially use it for a camp fire.

At some point we ended up talking about art school. And they had so many questions and we started talking about what critique does and how you can lead a conversation to get the info that is helpful. And that lead to talking about contemporary art and sculpture and my feels about museums and labels and it was so cute because they were asking great questions and responding so well. I honestly talked at them for almost a half hour. It was ridiculous and now they just want me to tell them "art stories" all the time.

I also told them that a few years ago at MCAD camp the kids would play a game where they would just ask me to tell them about a topic and I would think of any of the fun facts I have in my mind on any thing they want to know about. So now thats going to be a thing Im sure. So far they have asked about chips and ships. They think it very funny that I have had so many different jobs and done so many different things. It is a very nice ego boost honestly.

Me and Erin let them play in the gaga ball pit for a while. We just laid in the grass and talked for a while. I ended up explaining the entire bronze casting process to her. We talked about art school and games and just college in general. Shes really cool. Im glad we got paired up this week. She had some fun team building games for them to play, like a human knot and this funny one where they all stand on a tarp and have to figure out how to flip the tarp without stepping off of it. So that was very silly.

We ended the day with rock climbing. I had them play a quiet game while they waited. And told them stories of my bike crash and working on the boats. I really like this group of kids. They told me today they hope they can be a group this summer and I really hope that can happen for them because they are all so sweet together. Honestly Im being spoiled with them. Excellent children.

But I was still glad to be done at the end of the day. I got them all to pick up after snack. And then cleaned up before going to the office.

There was some stress at the end of the day when we realized a visitor had done a hit and run on one of the staff's cars. So that was a whole upsetting thing. I hope it can be worked out. But it was time for me to go home.

The drive felt long but it wasnt bad. I got home at 530 and was just really happy to be here.

James was making me pasta because they are great. I was not feeling so great though. My sinuses hurt and my body ached. James held me on the couch for a little while. We had dinner. And I played a few minutes of animal crossing. But I was just tired so Ive been laying in bed since then. I think now I am just going to shower and get in bed. I really really hope I can just sleep tonight. Because tomorrow will be a lot. Because its going to storm. And Im leading the art programs. And like. Its gonna be fine. But also the rain makes me sleepy. So wish me luck.

Also just as a final note. Today is 10 years since I made this blog. So thats exciting! Im not going to make a big to do about it because the actual day to day posts didnt start until August. So its exciting but mostly just a footnote.

But now is time for sleep. Goodnight everyone.

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kanene-yaaay · 4 years

Text

Reasons to Smile

Kanene's Notes:

Reasons to smile:

Today wasn't a sunny day, and I wake up early, which was pretty cool so that way I had time to finally finish my fanfic and post it. Oh, I have internet, and this is also awesome, since I can show this fanfic and talk with you all because of it. And the fun thing about Sun is that is okay the fact that it wasn't showing up a lot today because you guys alone are enough to light up my day and warm my heart. So thank you for being here and being so strong in these tough times, my lollipop!

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* Roman!Patton and Ler!Patton/Ler!Virgil/Ler!Roman (It can be seen as Romantic or Platonic LAMP/CALM).

*Hmmm… This is a Tickle-Fanfic! If you don’t like this kind of stuff, please look for another blog, there are plenty of amazing art in this site!! ‘u’).

* Something around 4.500 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* I'm very happy I finally managed to finalize this fanfiction! I made an personal goal to make to each one of the Light Sides a tickle fic focused on them specifically (Virgil = Vulnerable; Logan = It started when... ; Patton = Patton has a secret) and that was the last one! I'm already starting another project which I hope to post soon, so donut worry! I will be opening my Ask Box for prompts, however I will make a post about it, soon! <3

* E a versão em português brasileiro!

* Masterpost in case you wanna see my others works! <3

*Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Watch a fun video, read a good story, talk with the one that you love and drink water! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Roman felt he was the least heroic hero from all the Mind Palace. It was horrible, like a sensation which seemed to start in his chest, in that deepest part of him where the soul is, and began to spread through all his body. First his throat, making it dry and with tons and tons of lost words never said, then it went to his stomach, leading it to weight as much as his legs, which didn’t felt have any strength left to stand or move in any direction; his eyes looked as dikes about to broke and flood everything in they way, and, in the end, he didn’t felt any cold, however this didn’t stopped him from drow himself in tons of comforters and teddy bears just like he currently was.

As he said before: Not even a drop of heroism.

The soft, warm pile moved some time later as the prince emerged from it, not completely healed, but at least a little better after the nap he had. His hand moved with a flourish in the air, summoning Crofter’s, because he was addicted to this jelly after the musical video, and started to eat, feeling his face getting dirty with his own clumsy actions already inserted in his being.

Jelly on his face, messy hair, tired, sleepy eyes… Yep, definitely these were the ‘royal days’ which any Fairy Tale ever utter. None chapter mentioning, explaining how were the thousands of days in the tower waiting, dreaming; not a page dedicated to the lonely afternoons wandering through the forest in seek of a beauty lady with skin pale as snow, or even some phrases about the months surrounded and arrested in himself that Maui had to struggle and neither three or four verses about all the sleepless nights watered in guilty that the Beast had gone through.

Perhaps, it was because in the end…

- Nobody cares that much. - The words sounded even tougher when left his lips and Roman felt himself squirm as if it had inflicted a physical blow. He shook his head, knowing very well the bottomless well he was burying himself into.

He took a deep breath and opened the desk drawer picking up the old-looking folder, with a single draw of a feather outlined with glitter in its cape. He leaned on the bed’s headboard and opened the emergency folder for ‘heroic moments not so heroic of life’ as he liked to call it.

There were all that intimate stories. The ones we do just for ourselves. The arts in which we are inserted in the world that we chose in the way we wish… Stories with a plot very much deeper that the one traced on papers and the chats and scenes which that had already been turned over, reinvented and transformed again and again and again in the mind of the creative aspect. Took a good sip of air and released slowly in the paper with doodles at the edges. The traces and dialogues started to float from them and dance in the wind, recreating, reorganizing and materializing themselves in the characters, places and contexts previously determined. His trace was light and clear, seeming to flow slightly and naturally with the wind as his room began to take a form of a magnificent forest.

Roman observed the stories unfold before him, sporadically remembering the jokes he had written much longer ago and the trail each action leaded the character. He remembered also the ideas he had when wrote every single one of these words and how much happy he was just by the simple fact he was putting them on lines, without even realizing it Roman found himself with a small smile finding way to his features along with some salty drops pioneering trails down his cheeks and his hand centimeters away from the holograms, doomed to his destiny of always being capable to have any scenario, character and plot at his fingertips, but nothing more than that.

His not so optimal thoughts were pulled out of him when laughter and teasing cut the place and almost automatically made a pleasant shivers ran across his body. Now a real smile took over his face without he even noticing it, his eyes attentive to every detail of the protagonist being pinned in the floor and attacked by his other two friends.

Not a common attack, of course, because Roman could be anything but ‘common’. That, as the majority of the stories, which were in that folder, was a story developed around… tickling.

So, nothing more fair than the principal character, being the hurried and naturally inattentive adventurer who he was (and because in the last day he had a problematic night) didn’t noticed that, when he went to land the ship he forgot to do the necessary procedures before it (he would need to question Logan about the functions from a ship’s painel control later) and because of that the automobile suffered severe damage by the time it hit the ground. Then, nothing more fair than, while the ship was being repaired, both of his best friends tickled him by the same amount of time (which, sure, was a lie, because they would stop immediately when noticed his ‘victim’ had researched his limit. However, the merely possibility of that happens and the teasing they directed towards him about this only made the entire situation more ticklish and playful.)

(What? It was like said: the thing put on the paper is only the beginning of the whole iceberg behind the plot.)

When a story was over, the words returned floating to the paper where they belonged, the scribbles being again fixed, and then Roman took another one and brought it to life, sometimes closing his eyes in order to concentrate even more on the laughter and try to visualize fingers dancing in his most ticklish spots.

Just the thoughts about it leaded to ghost sensations ran across his entire spine. The papers fell with each story that ended and floated gracefully to the ground, because, later he would busy himself with the task of tidying up all that mess.

Later.

(~*~)

He left his room, already having organized it and saved his little folder back to its original place (one story was missing, probably lost in some corner of his forest. He would care about this another day, though. He was tireeeeeed.). He was interrupted some quick times by Thomas seeking to discuss new goals and dreams they could perceive in the next moths and someday in the future, which made him to be late for the dinner and, consequently, his entire routine after meal, and it was for that reason which at ten at night the aspect of passion and creativity was washing his clothes for the next video, that may or may not would be in the morning. Something which made him almost pray to not rain in the next day so he wouldn’t need to take his vestments to dry in the forest in his room.

Since it was almost IMPOSSIBLE to find anything by own will and not literally tripping over them (Not that this ever happened before with his teddy bear which went there to take some sunlight after a particularly strong storm in the Mind Place. Pffff. Of course not. Prince doesn’t stumble, or have teddy bear neither!! Who told you that??) in that indomitable world just as the creativity...

Wait…

Ah, that was why this world was his room and he is the aspect of creativity and… aaahh! Now the things made sense...

My goshly gosh, now he was beginning to look for logic in the pieces of his routine. OK. Red alert. Abort Mission! Sad days made him WAY too philosophical and like Logan. Abort Mission!

His foot leaded him to the living room, letting the washing machine do its job, his mind in a battle to decide which Disney to watch and which ones had duration just a bit longer than the washing process. His eyes landed in the television and his body froze for a piece of second.

“Reasons to smile today”

That's what the paper stuck to the device's screen said. It was a notebook’s common paper, the words scribbled a bit stronger than the necessary amount, however this wasn’t the cause of the guardian of dreams and passion stop in the way to his happiness.

And yes what that phrase meant.

It was a Logan’s idea (amaze!) which emerged in a particularly difficult period for Thomas.

It was really simple, to be honest: every day all the sides got together, more specifically in the breakfast, and told at least one reason to smile and look forward that day. Usually it was Patton who listed more than half of the reasons in almost every meetings, them being memories, peoples or places, e that constantly managed to rip out a good smile and that warm, cozy feeling in their chest.

But, when the moral aspect was feeling too much down for the activity, Roman always jumped with a good future, those where all their dreams were accomplished, Logan always brought some good memories and neutral facts and Virgil always came with someone. One supported the other and vice versa.

Those were really tough moments, nevertheless also were the moments which consolidated them as a famILY.

The royal member held de paper, the entire room bathed in a silence in which he could swear to amplificate his heartbeats. It was possible to notice there was something written in the back of it, so he turned it.

“Your unwavering courage.”

The lights went off and two hands digged in his sides, a scream getting stuck in his throat and his reflexes to punch what touched him was equally restrained by THAT specific sensation.

- NAHAHAHAHAHA! – His laughter was quick to fill each piece of the silent before installed in the place, his own hands swinging from left to right without really managing to do something, completely different from the ones which attacked him, each single finger mixing between wriggling, kneading, trembling and giving an extra special attention to every inch it could research. He quivered, his legs weakening with the flow of laughter. - WHOHOHOHOHOHOOHOHOHOHOHOHO I-I-IS - A particularly mean poke in his lowest rib made his voice to fail, a new shade of blush painting his features. - ACK! - An amused snort could be heard from behind him, the tickling fingers found the new sound interesting and now spent their time slowly spidering up and down his ribs. Light, quick and crazy tickles dancing and spreading with each touch. - nahahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

He knew this game, knew how to play it. He just needed to find out who was attacking him. Whilst his squirming, his hands tried to hold or touch anything from who was behind him. A hint. Any hint.

Roman grabbed a wrist. It was uncovered, but there was fabric right behind it. Just one of them wore clothes long-sleeved - His thoughts seemed to run and vanish as fast as the squeaks and yelps between his hearty laughter - Just one of them wore vestments long-sleeved…

The unknown wrist released itself from his hold, quickly deviating its attention to his upper ribs. His legs weakened and he fell in the ground, the tickling following all his moves and don’t stopping to attack him with light kneads and pinches, even with all his fighting.

- Anahahahahahahahah-anahahahahaha!!! - His eyes closed in attempt to focus for the name slip already, but his laughter seemed to control all his breath and mind. -ANXIEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHETY! NAHAhahahaha!!

The fingers slowed down, almost stopping, which allowed the aspirant of royalty finally take some deep quick, delightful breathes, his low and wobbly giggles intertwined with fast squeals being fed up by two index fingers that still poking and lightly teasing that exact spot that connect his armpits and ribs.

- Thahahahahank Beyohohohohcé.

- Tsc. - The purple aspect clicked his tongue and even though everything was bathed into darkness, Roman could perfectly imagine the expression in the other’s face. A sharp look. A marvelous smirk. Uh oh - We work with names here, Squeaky Princey.

F U C-

- Nononohohoho! wAHAHAHAHAHAIT- He even attempted to escape, sure, but was already giggling even before the hands came back to his sides in full speed. His laughter exploded from his lips, his legs and arms also dancing and struggling without any real effort and his eyes closing tightly.

This jerk had told his name a few days ago and KNEW that none of them has get used to call him by that yet. He k n e w.

- YOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOUR STUHUHUHUHUUHUHUHP-NO! WHAHAHAHAHAHA-WHAHAHAHAHAIT!! - Snort. More high-pinched uncontrollable laughter. Squeal. More laughter. Did one of them belong to the emo side or did he imagined it? - LEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHET ME T-T-THIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHINK!!!

Roman could feel the name in the tip of his tongue, somewhere between his loud and attention demanding crackles. Yes, right there, between his bright, mesmerizing smile and that warmth in his chest that seemed to spread through all across his face. He felt like would melt at any moment. Since when his smile could get this big?

- VIRHIHIHIHIHIHIHIGIL!!! IT IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIS VIRGIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIL!!!

- Ding ding ding. – The lights went on again and the royal aspect deposited his hands on the floor, his remain giggles flowing from his mouth as those butterflies and that cozy sensation kept flying in his stomach. - Strike.

- Yohohohou will feel my rahahahahag- However, when he turned, blushed features and teary eyes, to see the fear in his enemy's face as he uttered his promise of vengeance, the prince only found nothing. A gigantic piece of void where the purple one should be standing. The sheet preserved itself in the ground, calm and plain, in the same position he had left it, as it mocked about all the mess that happened seconds ago.

- Who are you looking at, subject? - But the sparkles in his eyes removed any heat of his words.

He went to the laundry and now headed to his room. Being completely honest, he didn't felt a single drop of will to sleep right now, the previous ‘attack’ continued as a mystery. Of course, they all were extremely close, but... tickles? It have been a long time since this artifice was used among them. It was something almost as old as that phrase or that game…

Ok. Something was smelling really strange here.

Maybe it was his new cologne which- No, wait, Roman! Focus, focus!

Maybe it was…

An adventure.

And what kind of royalty he would be if he denied an adventure?

Unsheathed his sword and kept his track to his room, confident and brave footsteps echoing in the hallway.

A quick and muffled ‘thump’ could be heard from his room, which automatically activated all the instincts from the extra side, because of that, in a matter of few seconds the wooden object was already being thrown in the ground by a smiley Roman, who managed to support himself in the only feet that didn’t hurted, since apparently, knocking -ha!- a door down with one (or more, shhh) kick can have consequences (How he was supposed to know?).

- BOW TO YOUR PRINCE AND MAY I DECIDE TO SPARE YOU! - His heroic pose was totally ignored, because the place was empty. His eyes analyzed each corner and each shadow, without really finding anything that give the slightest tip that any other life being beyond him even stepped there.

And then his gaze bumped in a shiny, polished black shoe, half completely hidden under his bed, making a danger joyful grin to spread in his features. All his shoes were Disney tematic and had their own day and outfit and any of them had this shade of black.

(Maybe the Ursula’s one was the one that looked more like, but even with this in mind it was very distinguishable the difference between a dark-purple and a basic dark, please!)

His footsteps leaded him quietly, a perfect contrast with all the shouting from pieces of time ago. He slowly bent down, prepared to grab the shoe and whoever was wearing it and…

- HA! YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD TRICK M- Good point: The shoe came easily out. Bad point: it was because it was empty, which was the reason for his glorious victory statement being, and and very rudely by the way, interrupted. Roman indignantly scoffed; he refused to let the victory escape so easily through his fingers! He was the embodiment of dreams, persistence and hope and he. wouldn’t. give. up. so. easily!!

Inflated by his own enthusiasm, the royal side knelt down, noticing only a paper on the floor in a place a little further under his bed. Just a little crawl was necessary to solve the problem, with a gleam of determination in his glare Roman firmly held the hint, excitedly bouncing his legs, the only part of his body that wasn’t covered by the furniture.

"Your persistence and mind of an untamed nature."

Before he could even process a bit more the meaning contained in the words, which apparently were a continuation from previous paper, the prince felt a strong arm embrace his ankles, his shoes being removed with a slowly calm that didn’t related with the adrenaline which exploded in himself and now across his arteries. His ‘mind of an untamed nature’ understanding exactly what was about to happen and finding zero ways to run away from his fate.

- NO!!! Don’t you dare!! - One of his shoes fell with a muffled hit on the ground. - I-I… hehehe…! - Giggles began to took over his throat. His other shoe fell as well, a cold, excited shiver ran down his spine. - No!! - A finger lightly positioned itself in the exact center of his feet, all his nerves vibrated in expectation. - NononononNo!

The finger started to scratched softly, its nail slided without a single bit of hurry across his feet in a move that went from the tip of his toes to his heel, just to add another finger in the movement and calmly repeat the pattern over and over and over and over… Until all his five stupid tickly fingers were tickling him.

Roman tried to escape from the gap in his ankle, his eyes as tighten as his lips, refusing to brake his barrier.

The one who ‘attacked’ changed his technique a few times, going from circular motions to quick scribbles, however, he hasn’t rewarded with more than some muffled squeaks and snorts from the other. The fingers moved away, giving Prince time enough to recover profusely his breath, almost don’t hearing the soft humming which filled the air for some little pieces of heartbeats.

Roman already had the name in the tip of his tongue. The letter alone was enough of a clue, albeit… the possibility to finish with the playing caused a part of himself to quiver sadly. He didn’t wished to end with this moment… No… In truth…

He didn’t wanted this feeling to end. A feeling that made him excited, electric, feeling like he could run fifty kilometers nonstop. This sentiment, which automatically produced a smile in his features and made he really believes, realizes that he was…

Was loved.

Perhaps it was this the reason that his mouth opened even before his brain processed his provocation, challenger tune that impregnated his next words:

- Há! My dear enemy! Your faux fighting techniques would never be able to defeat a prince like mí! - The creativity side could feel the anticipation, the danger sign glowing in a bright red, and launched his final card: his cocky laughter (and extremely natural. Of course, he never trained hours and hour in a diversity of tunes and expressions in front of his mirror. Humpft. Of course not. That was one of princes’ natural gifts.) of victory.

The same that was interrupted seconds after by the twenty nails that scratched the absurdly, extremely ticklish skin under his toes. Roman could swear that not even in his years of theater he managed to achieve this high tune.

- Ohohohohoh! NohohohohohOHOHOHOhohohoho! – His head shook desperately, his legs bouncing and fight for their lives and freedom, his laughter, now breathless and full of half pleas of mercy, dancing through his room.

A part of himself, one which wasn’t maddened with all this tickling, all the fingers that attacked merciless every little centimeter of his feet and his reverberated laughter, fought against his flight instincts, leading the whole scribbles, pokes and wriggles to find the minimum of resistance as possible (Not that the Tickler will ever know it, sure.)

- PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE - A nail found a very particularly sensible spot right under his big toe releasing a series of snorts and yelps throughout his already uncontrollable, wobbly laughter. The tickling was unbearable, but in a very different, more lightly, way than the previous attack, and that was making him crazy. - PleasepleasepleAHAHAHAHAHAHAHSEHEHEHE!! NAHAHAHAhahahahHAHAHAHahahahahaHAHAHAHA!!

Roman persisted for a few more seconds, his entire body, despite the tickles being focused in just one place, squirmed. He only allowed the name to slip for his tongue when his laughter and giggles, it depended from the spot and apparently his ‘enemy’ wasn’t satisfied in choose just one, started to steal his breath. His hand hit the cold floor of his room.

- LOGAN!!! IHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT IS Lohohohhohohohogan!!

The tickles were decreasing until finally stop, making the tingles in his soles not as intense as the that took over his ribs and sides before in the living room. Roman, in the exact moment, which felt the gap in his ankle to weaken, pulled his feet closer, rubbing them.

- Undoubtedly correct. - It could be his tickled mind pranking him, but the dreamer could swear he heard a hint of amusement in the other’s voice. It didn’t took longer for the prince to catch the characteristic sound of sinking, which resulted him quickly attempting to get out of under the bed to reach the one with glasses, after all, their battle hadn’t ended yet!!

- Wait right there! Don’t you freaking dare to- And, once again, his sentence was interrupted. Now for a little snort that flied from his lips when the logic aspect ran softly his fingers at his feet, making the prince to retract in defense, giving him time enough to disappear with a smirk, half joyful and half cocky, adorning his face.

Roman really tried to be angry, but how much heated was his features and how much euphoric he was in the moment proved this action to be a little more difficult, which definitely wouldn’t aplacate his future revenge, of course.

Now, though, his only plan was to take a shower and then sleep. For that he forced his tired body to get up and head his bathroom, part smiling and part yawning. He opened his door and stretched, feeling his bones to crack and muscles to relax.

And then his gaze found the paper stuck in the mirror above his sink, his instinct screaming in a red alert for knowing very well the next step in this game.

- NO! - Maybe it was the tiredness, however, before he could turn around to try to stop the attack a pair of hands hit in his armpits, something that made his legs automatically to fail and every and any coherent thought be tossed away from his brain to a far far away. The laughter already falling in great waterfalls from his mouth.

- PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHADREHEHE! - His real laughter, that specific one that only appears when his most ticklish spot is being attacked with the most ruthless tickles, was loud, thunderous and definitely an easy sound to be noticed from miles away, Roman almost could feel his blush to spread across his neck just imagining Logan and Virgil smiling as heard him reverberate around the house. – NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

- Ooooooh? - Patton’s playfully tune would be definitely impossible to hear if he wasn’t so close of his ears, his words leading to even more tickles and shivers in the other. - It seems that our little pretty prince here is ticklish? Coothie coothie coo! Oh, no! What are you gonna do? Huh? Huh? What our powerful, brave Prince Roman will do to escape from the Tickle Monster? Huh? Huh? Kitty Kitty Coo! My dear and ticklish prince!!

- NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO TEASIHIHIHIHIHIHIIHIHING, PAHAHAHAHAHATTON!

The creativity’s embodiment trashed back and forth, his head shaking, perhaps in attempts to remove all the red in his face, maybe trying to dislodge those fingers that poked, kneaded, drummed and tickled every available skin they could research. Tears began to accumulate in the corner of his eyes,

And, even with all his effort, his conscient parte still struggled against his instincts to escape and making him to get as close to the moral aspect as possible, almost laying on him.

- But how could I ever stop when knowing that this give me access to all these cute squeals? - A poke in the right place and Roman exemplified his words. Patton giggled. - Not mentioning this wonderful and melodious laugher, Roman! It is adorable!!! - The paternal side seemed as happy as he did, the royalty aspirant could feel their laughter in harmony, and maybe (maybe, only!) his heart had melted a little. Or it was just his tears falling from his eyes, his mind was a mess, okay? Don’t ask for details nor logic.

His laughter, high pinch squeals, snorts and breathless giggles endured for some more minutes before Roman pushed himself forward, laughing a plea to stop, which the one who wears cardigan promptly answered. They leaned against the wall, feeling the cold of the concrete aplacate the heat of the remaining giggles.

For some seconds both stayed in silence, calming down.

- Whahahat did you write?

- Huh? - Patton blinked a few times, leaving his thoughts and staring the other with a stunning smile.

- In the paper. I couldn’t read… And I expected a honest attack from you, padre! Attacking enemies from behind is very immoral!

- Hehehehe! - Genuine smile, hands up as an act of surrender. - Anything goes in love and war.

- Really bold words for someone so close from my fingers! - Roman showed an evil grin, punctuating each one of his words with pokes in the other’s belly, making him squirming in a sea of quick giggles, pushing his hands.

- You stop right there, mister! - Protested, his glare assuming a paternal glint. - Tomorrow we have a video to record and we need to sleep early! Thomas will need his creativity radiant and rested!

The prince whined, hands moving in exaggerated gestures and laying dramatically on the floor, following with his eyes as a smiling Patton stood up and pulled the paper from the mirror.

- Ah! I wrote: ‘Your golden heart!’, but I think I should have written about your stories! - Roman felt his blood freeze, a quick flashback from the morning passing before his eyes. The holograms, flying scenarios, sheets falling, Thomas calling him to do something, the lost paper… - They’re amazing and give really ncredible ideas.

His face suddenly looked as if it had been set on fire and for the first time in a long time the prince found himself speechless while the one with the glasses deposited the paper in his hands, kissed his forehead, wishing ‘Good night~’ before getting out, humming softly and disappeared from the other’s vision.

Roman buried his face in his hands, grunting in frustration, which wasn’t too much easy to do when a smile from ear to ear looked to be stuck in his features.

Yes, they had gave him a plenty of reasons to smile.

Maybe it was for that reason that most of the stories didn’t told about these days, these moments… Perhaps because they were from such great and strong heroism that it was almost impossible to be entirely put in just one plot.

And it was for that reason that Roman, while sitting on his bed, pencil and paper in hands, wanted to be the first one to do so.

36 notes · View notes

eldritchsurveys · 4 years

Text

831.

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? >> I don’t eat cereal anymore, but from what I can remember, I didn’t really like having a lot of milk in the bowl.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? >> Not usually.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? >> On the occasion that I’m reading a paper book, if it’s my own, I just dog-ear it. If it’s a library book, I use the receipt that I got from checking out the book.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? >> Black (or in the case of some teas, with a little honey).

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? >> I’m self-conscious of my entire face.

6: do you keep plants? >> I just have the one spider plant in my room. It looks pretty done for, but like... it’s not dead, exactly, so I have no idea what to do with it. Sparrow, on the other hand, has about fifteen plants on the balcony, two in her room, etc.

7: do you name your plants? >> Sparrow has named at least one of hers.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? >> I just wrangle the written word the best I can.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? >> Absolutely.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? >> Side.

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? >> Sparrow and I have this thing where we just mangle words as badly as possible. Like “chicken” has become “chimkin”, stuff like that.

12: what’s your favorite planet? >> Mercury and Pluto, for completely opposite reasons (as I’m sure is obvious).

13: what’s something that made you smile today? >> I saw a random crop of mushrooms while walking. It was just... random! I don’t know what died there or whatever that made the mushrooms grow in that one little spot, but it was adorable.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? >> ---

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! >> I don’t feel like it.

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? >> I don’t have one.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? >> I don’t.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. >> ---

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? >> I technically have one, on Dreamwidth, but I never bother updating it. This is my journal, along with my personal blog.

20: what’s your favorite eye color? >> ---

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. >> I don’t have one of those. I have three different bags for different purposes.

22: are you a morning person? >> Sure.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? >> I usually have 0 real obligations (aside from ones I impose on myself), so I have no idea how to answer this.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? >> ---

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? >> I’m not sure.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? >> There are no shoes that I’ve had for forever. I only have two pairs of shoes, so basically both of them get worn with every single outfit (the boots in the cooler months, the sneakers in the summer and for walking).

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? >> Well, isn’t bubble gum only one flavour?

28: sunrise or sunset? >> Both are good. Although I like saying hello to the Sun more than I like saying goodbye to it.

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? >> ---

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? >> Sure.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. >> I like wearing socks with funky patterns and designs on them, and sometimes I mismatch them on purpose for my own amusement. I do not sleep with socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. >> I can’t really think of one right now.

33: what’s your fave pastry? >> ---

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? >> I don’t remember what I kept as a child. I think I had a lion or two. I only remember that because my father is fucking obsessed with lions so of course I had lion plushies.

35: do you like stationery and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? >> I do like them, but I don’t have occasion to use them.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? >> I don’t know.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? >> I like keeping it tidy.

38: tell us about your pet peeves! >> I’d really rather not right now.

39: what color do you wear the most? >> Black.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? >> I don’t really have any stories behind any of the jewelry I own.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? >> Well, I reread The Phantom Tollbooth recently and I’ve been fond of that book for almost as long as I’ve been alive.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! >> No.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? >> I don’t remember.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? >> Oof...

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? >> I don’t know.

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. Any burger of the day ever written on the board at Bob’s Burgers. I love them though. <-- I’m going to stick with that, those are just utterly shameless puns lmao

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? >> ---

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? >> I was afraid of thunderstorms and flying insects. I still have a reflexive aversion to flying insects when they’re flying around me (even though I actually like a lot of flying insects, like bees and moths and stuff), but I am definitely not afraid of thunderstorms anymore.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? >> I don’t buy CDs and I rarely buy records. I think the last record I bought was a deluxe copy of Pearl Jam’s Ten that I found at ALDI, of all places.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? >> I don’t collect things.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? >> ---

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? >> I don’t remember what memes came out this year.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? >> I tried watching RHPS and Beetlejuice and didn’t like either one. Didn’t even finish them, in fact. Heathers was okay. Pulp Fiction was entertaining.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? >> *shrug* What even is a true look of sadness.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? >> I have no idea.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? >> Meh.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? >> Listening to Bohemian Rhapsody doesn’t really make me feel anything, but it’s fun to reenact sometimes, yeah. Especially in a car, Wayne’s World style.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? >> ---

59: what’s your favorite myth? >> Oh god, that’s the worst question. I love so many different myths.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? >> I can’t usually get into poetry, a lot of it is inscrutable in a way that’s just annoying to me instead of intriguing. There are some poems I like, though, but don’t ask me to remember them right now.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? >> ---

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? >> Not usually.

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? >> I’m fussy about my everything. I don’t own enough books or physical copies of music to really warrant being meticulous about their organisation, though.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? >> Pale blue.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? >> I mean, sure, why not.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? >> I used to have a really big one that someone on tumblr made for me a long time ago, lmao. That was good.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? >> It depends on how I already felt. If I was having an okay day, then it’s just dreamy and ~goth~ and I will probably make 100 Silent Hill jokes. If I’m having an off day, then the fact that the Sun isn’t even out just makes me feel worse.

68: what’s winter like where you live? >> Cold.

69: what are your favorite board games? >> I don’t have one.

70: have you ever used a ouija board? >> No, never got a chance.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? >> Ginger, peppermint, etc.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? >> No.

73: what are some of your worst habits? >> Picking at my lips, mainly.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. >> ---

75: tell us about your pets! >> ---

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? >> No.

77: pink or yellow lemonade? >> Either is fine.

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? >> I can’t stand them.

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? >> ---

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? They are the colour of Nothing and I did not choose it. I rent. <-- “the colour of Nothing” is exactly what the fuck it is.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. >> ---

82: are/were you good in school? >> I was great as a child. Once puberty (and trauma) hit everything went out the window.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? >> I don’t even know where to begin with this... there are so many album covers I like, but I don’t feel like expending all my survey energy on one question, you dig...

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? >> No, I’m not planning on it.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? >> Sure. Promethea, Sandman, Preacher, Doctor Strange, various Lovecraftian comics, etc.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? >> I do like concept albums. Dream Theater has done some pretty interesting ones, and so did Vanden Plas with Christ 0.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? >> ---

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? >> I had been reblogging a lot of art recently that had a similar look and feel to it, and I was wondering if they were related, like part of a certain art movement... and then I was watching a Youtube video about the movie Silence the other day and I accidentally found my answer in that video! It was the Baroque movement. I really like the feel of some of those pieces, particularly the darker-hued paintings.

89: are you close to your parents? >> No.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. >> What can I possibly say about New Orleans that hasn’t already been said by more poetic minds than mine, tbh.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? >> I don’t plan on travelling this year, thanks to the whole pandemic business.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? >> Er, somewhere in the middle...?

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? >> I only have one hairstyle.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? >> Somebody on one of the Discord servers I’m in.

95: what are your plans for this weekend? >> We’re going to the Wayland house for the first time since... early March, I think. Besides that, just the farmer’s market and grocery shopping as usual.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? >> My computers run on SSDs, so it takes like 2 minutes to do system updates and I’m right back in business. No point in procrastinating that.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? >> I get a different result every time I take a Myers-Briggs test (which makes sense to me). My Sun sign is Gemini. My Hogwarts house is Slytherin, but being complex-natured like any other human being I know that I straddle both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? >> I don’t remember the last time I went on a true hike. I would love to do that at some point, but aside from the M6 trail (which is just... parallel to a highway and not all that scenic), all the good hiking places in this region require me to be driven to the location first.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. >> Death Is the Road to Awe by Clint Mansell, Walker by Master Boot Record, Ich dachte schon by Selig, Little Black Submarines by the Black Keys, Nothing As It Seems by Pearl Jam.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? >> No.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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softspaceboibrian · 5 years

Text

Journeys End in Lovers Meeting (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x reader

Summary: Reader is a new student at Harvard University and, on her first day, she does something she might regret. Or maybe not.

Warnings: none

Wc: 2700

A/N: okay, so, not as many people as I thought read the first chapter, which is sad since I thought it was good. but yeah, I'll keep posting it anyway and, hopefully, it will gain readers with time

Other chapters: 1 - 3 - 4 - 5

“Gosh, you’re soaking wet… get inside the car” He sounded worried and confused. You didn’t let him beg for you to actually do it. You didn’t know why, but you trusted him enough to get instantly inside his car, even though you had known him for, what? Less than a day? “What happened to you? I thought you were going to go home by bus.”

“Well, the bus didn’t come, I don’t have money for a cab, my flat mate is still working, I don’t know if I left my keys at home or if I lost them. Oh, and it started raining.” You explained without managing to look him in the eyes. You were embarrassed because of all that happened to you in less than ten minutes.

“You can stay at my place till your friend gets home.” His voice was soft, his smile sincere.

“Oh, no. Don’t worry. You can just drop me off at the library or, I don’t know, a café. I really don’t mean to bother you.” You started rumbling on, really not wanting to be a weight for him.

“You are not bothering me. I live alone with my dog, and she loves people. You’re more than welcome, trust me.” He smiled gently, before starting the car. Apparently, you didn’t have much of a say in it. He just decided that you were going home with him and, for some reason, that didn’t bother you, at all. The drive wasn’t long and surely a lot less embarrassing than the walk they had together to get to his office a few hours before. It was filled with funny comments and stories of embarrassing students hitting in him during lesson or trying to kiss him during office hours. After fifteen minutes or so, the car stopped in front of a beautiful townhouse, which reminded you of London.

“Make yourself at home” said the man while letting you in. The house smelled of cinnamon, books, coffee and cranberry. You looked around, noticing that that place looked exactly how you expected the house of an English literature professor to look like: books everywhere, papers full of notes and stains of coffee, tons of used notebooks, numerous bookshelves filled with every kind of book you could ever think of, the desk and the coffee table submerged with papers and, yes, you guessed it, more books. “I’m really sorry for the mess, we were obviously not expecting any visit anytime soon.” He laughed. The way he talked about himself and his dog warmed your heart.

“Don’t worry, my home is a lot worse. I mean, two girls leaving all by themselves, without any parent to remind them to tidy up the room. I think you can imagine how that looks like.” You giggled, putting your bag down and taking off your shoes. Immediately afterward, you felt something touching your leg and, when you turned around, you saw a furry ball sitting right in front of you, with two beautiful blue eyes, and a ball in her mouth.

“Lady, don’t bother our guest” Said the man, getting closer to them, probably to take the dog away. But you got down on your knees, petting the dog before taking the toy from her mouth.

“Lady, that’s a beautiful name” You commented, starting to play with her, throwing the toy and waiting for the dog to bring it back to you.

The man didn’t answer. He just smiled and disappeared in a room, coming out of it a few minutes later in some more comfortable clothes. “You’re still wet, maybe you want to take a shower and change into some warm, clean clothes.” His voice was so gentle it almost gave you shivers.

“Ehm… yes, thank you. If that not a problem with you.” You got up from the floor, leaving Lady alone and walking towards him.

Twenty minutes later you walked into the kitchen wearing warm clothes that were definitely too big for you, your hair had been pulled up in a messy bun, but at least you were no longer soaking wet because of the rain. The kitchen smelled even more of coffee than the living room did, inviting you to get inside and take a seat at the table where the Professor was working. The last thing you wanted to do was to disturb him. But as soon as you sat down, he looked up from the laptop, laying his eyes on you, that soft smile that showed the little wrinkles around his eyes made its way on his face, making you blush for no particular reason. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” You smiled, lowering your gaze on the table, while you started fidgeting with your hands.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“I actually prefer tea”

“Black?”

“Yes, please”

“Coming” He winked, going immediately to the stove to prepare you tea. It amazed you how different he looked there, at home, where no one could see him, where he simply was Gwilym, the nice guy next door with an adorable puppy and amazing taste in books. “I’m working on an article.” He said breaking the silence. “I write for an online newspaper. I take care of the literature section. I review new books, I write about recently deceased authors, but this kind of article I’m working on right now is by far my favourite: I have to work on a theme, analyse it through different works, authors, countries, genres.”

“And what is the theme of this article in particular?” You asked, being sincerely curious.

“Don John. You know, the famous Spanish womanizer.” He turned around, arms crossed in front of his chest. “I started by analysing the first drama ever written about him, then I compared it to the Romantic version. Then, I talked about Mozart’s and Byron’s plays and Kierkegaard’s theory of the three phases of life.” He explained with a proud grin on his lips, until he got unexpectedly cut off.

“Did you consider writing about Wilde’s Dorian Gray as modern Don John?” You asked, tilting your head to the side, laying your cheek on the palm of your hand.

He looked at you speechless. “No, I did not…” You had surprised him, positively surprised him.

“Well, you see, they are more alike than one would ever imagine: they both care about appearance more than everything, they like to seduce people – here’s the first difference, Dorian seduces not only women, but also men. Then, for example, look at the characters and the object: Sybil is Doña Ines, Sybil’s brother is Don Gonzalo, the picture is the statue. Easy.” He was amazed by the girl in front of him and her knowledge. “Why modern, you might ask. Well, you see, when the story was first written, it was set in Seville, Spain, one of the most glorious reigns of those times. When Wilde wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray, England was the most powerful country in the world and geographically the centre of the world. Don John used to go out drinking, Dorian is known for using drugs, such as opium.” You kept rambling on for several minutes, stopping only to thank the man for the tea.

When you finished presenting your theory, Gwilym remained silent for a couple more moments, still astonished by your intelligence. “You know Spanish literature too?”

“And Anglo-American, German, Italian, Scandinavian and a little French and Russian.” You replied, right before taking a sip of your no-longer-too-hot tea.

“You will never stop to surprise me, won’t you?”

You giggled, hiding your now rosy cheeks behind the mug, not really knowing what to answer. “You can use my idea, if you want.”

He sat down across from you, setting his mug down on the table right on a small pile of papers. That’s why there's stains pretty much on each paper on his house. “You should write for a blog or a magazine yourself.” His voice was gentle, just as his smile.

“Oh no, writing articles isn’t my thing. I’m more into poetry and novels.” You shook your head, crossing your legs on the chair. “But, I’m serious, use it. If your readers find it interesting, all you need to do is thank me.” You giggled, putting down the mug on the table.

But, at that point, the article was long forgotten, the laptop went on standby mode. “Are you staying over for dinner?”

The next day you woke up at the sound of your alarm going off. You reached for the phone, without finding it. It must have fallen from the nightstand or something, or at least that was what you thought. When you finally managed to open your eyes, the view of a room you had never seen before appeared in front of you, leaving you perplexed. You finally found her phone, which was on the nightstand, charging. A just not your nightstand. It was only when you read Rose’s text messages that it all hit you.

[9:47 pm] Honey, I’m so sorry if I didn’t answer. I was still working. Hope you’re fine.

[9:48 pm] Oh, I see, you’re with Prof Charming.

[10:14 pm] Yes, your keys are home. I’ll leave the spare one under the mat outside the door.

[6:45 am] You’re not home? Are you already out or did you sleep at your teacher house?

[7:01 am] I’m actually a little worried. Text me asap, so I know that you’re okay.

You unlocked you phone and immediately responded Rose’s messages. Yes, you had spent the night there, but you didn’t recall falling asleep in that bed. That was extremely confusing. At that point you got up, taking your phone with her and walking outside of the room, following the scent of black tea and coffee coming from the kitchen, finally finding the tall man, who was standing in front of the stove, waiting for the coffee to be ready, printed papers in his hands. You just walked in, looking at him and greeting him, waiting for him to realize you were actually there. And when he finally raised his eyes from the papers to meet your gaze, a soft smile formed on his lips. “Good morning.” His voice was still a little raspy, he had probably just woke up himself. “Did you sleep well? I made you tea, and here you have toasts with jam or butter, granola, cookies, fruit. Take whatever you want.”

You sat down at the table, still looking at him, hoping he would say something that could remind you how you ended up waking up in his bed. Like, did you drink so much that now you couldn’t even remember doing it? Did you have sex? What happened?!

“Last night you were watching TV and you fell asleep on the couch” He said, as if he could read your mind. “So I picked you up, took you to my room and let you sleep in my bed, while I slept on the couch instead.”

You looked at him in silence for a second, waiting to finish chewing the cookie you had started to eat. “You didn’t have to. You could have woken me up and driven me home, or even just let me sleep on the couch.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry.” He smiled in that gentle way, like he always did, that kind of smile that reassures you, makes you feel comfortable. “Do you need me to drive you to your place so that you can change before going to University?”

“Yes, but you could just drop me off there and then I could take the bus, you don’t need to wait for me.”

“I insist.” His voice was soft, soothing, in a way. He had only known you for less than a day and he was already so caring and thoughtful. And the was weird for you because never in your experience someone did that just because they wanted to. Back in high school, people always wanted something in exchange. They treated you kindly and then they wanted you to do their homework; they invited you to parties, and then they wanted you to vote for them; they invited you over to their place to study together, and then they wanted to have sex. “Come on, I’m just trying to be nice. After all, we’re going to work together now.”

You didn’t let him go on for a lot more. You trusted him, even though you weren’t sure why. In his eyes you see that something that ha led you to accept his ride the day before. You trusted him, and that was the reason why you eventually gave in. And there you were, twenty minutes later, in front of your apartment, finally opening the door and letting the man in. “I’m really sorry for the mess.” You giggled, immediately running towards your flatmate’s room to close the door – it looked like a bomb had exploded inside that room, there were clothes all over the floor, open books on the bed and shoes on the desk, nothing was where it should have been. Luckily, the rest of the house wasn’t that bad, still a mess, but it could have definitely been worse. The living room wasn’t that big, the couch took up most of the space, all of her books were still inside those big cardboard boxes, only a couple of notebooks were lying on the coffee table with some other papers, most of them covered in tea and mug stains. Your room, on the other hand, had a reason for it to be a mess: it was still a work in progress, there were still boxes out, you hadn’t put all the books on the shelves nor all the clothes inside the closet, but that was just because you would usually have something else to do in the afternoon or in your spare time instead of tidying up.

“You can wait here, on the couch” You smiled, right before vanishing inside your bathroom. It didn’t take you long and fifteen minutes later you had showered and were now wearing some dark wash mom jeans, a loose navy blue turtleneck with white stripes, a cream coloured long cardigan and white sneakers. As simple as it could be. You put on some lip balm and walked out of the bathroom, picking up your bag and going back to the living room. There you immediately met those blue eyes that almost sent shivers down your spine, before going back to what they were looking at before. There was something about that man, something that you couldn’t yet understand but that still made you want to spend time with him as if he was a simple friend.

“Your poems are breath-taking. I didn’t expect you to be this good.” He commented, his eyes still on an open notebook. “I mean, I imagined you were probably really good, but I didn’t think you were this good.” When you finally realised what he was holding in his hands, you let you bag fall to ground with a big thud, before running towards him, taking the notebook from his hands and closing it immediately. He looked puzzled, why should someone this good hide her talent? “I’m really sorry, I found it there, on the coffee table. It was open, and I peeked. It’s impressive what you can do.”

“I never show my poems to anyone.” You whispered, hiding the notebook behind your back.

“I don’t get it? Why not share it with the word? Those are wonderful.” His voice was soft, sincere, his eyes tried to meet yours, which were now looking at your shoes.

“I don’t… I don’t think people would actually like them.”

He looked at you in silence for a while, before crossing his arms in front of his chest. “The Romantics, am I right? Those are the poets you look up to. Keats is probably your favourite.”

“Yes”

“Well, that explains a lot.” And you knew exactly what he meant by that, so you just kept your eyes low, trying to hide the peachy colour of your cheeks. “We should get going.” Said the man after taking a quick glance at his watch.

#gwilym lee #professor gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #professor!gwilym lee #journeys end in lovers meeting #jeilm #softspaceboibrian writings

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