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earlgreyflowers · 5 months

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47 + charles 🩷✨

Charles had been streaming for a while, his laugh coming from his sim room every few minutes. You were starting to miss him, you loved that he was happy to give fans content but that didn’t mean you didn’t want your boyfriend to give you equal attention. You head down to the kitchen, grabbing one of Charles’ favourite smoothies before heading back up to the room.

Standing outside the door you place your hand on the handle, Charles’ voice spilling through the wood. “Oh my god. I have never looked so good.” You hear him say, shuffling around in his seat. Your eyebrows furrow, clicking open the door. The sight you see as you walk in stumps you. Charles is sat in front of his stream set up, in a banana costume. He turns to look at you, cheesy grin spread over his face. “Hi mon amour, what do you think?” He asks, gesturing to his outfit.

You walk over to him, placing his smoothie down and shaking your head. Everyone in chat starts saying hi to you, asking you to ban Charles from using his credit card to buy costumes. You laugh at their desperation, sitting down on Charles’ lap. “I think you look ridiculous, but still adorable.” You tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll come back in a bit for you.” You say, getting up to leave. Charles turns back to the chat but not before yelling a thank you for the smoothie. You hear him giggle, “I know chat I know, I’m very lucky to have Y/N.” With a giddy smile, you head down to the kitchen ready to start dinner.

As the pasta bubbles on the stove and you fry some pancetta, you hear Charles' footsteps coming down the stairs. "Food's almost done Charlie, I was gonna bring it up to you." You say, not turning to look at him as you focus on not burning your food. He wraps himself around you from behind, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck. Out of the corner of your eye you see a flash of yellow and you pause. Turning the heat off under the food you turn to face him, seeing him still dressed in that costume. He takes a step back, spinning in a circle with his arms out, a cheesy grin painting his face. Your eyes scan him, black shorts and white t-shirt peeking out from underneath the banana costume. He's smirking by the time you look back at his face, "Did you just look me up and down? Because if you did we are having sex. Right now." Charles tells you, dimples deepening at the way you laugh at his antics.

He wraps his arms around you, tapping your thigh to encourage you to jump. You do just that, your legs encasing his waist as he carries you over to the couch. Your lips mould together as you walk, you moan into Charles’ mouth as you attempt to tangle your hands in his hair only to be stopped by his outfit. “Oh fuck me.” You groan against his lips, arms resting over his shoulders in defeat. “In case you haven’t noticed mon cherie I am trying to but I am still a banana.” Charles replies, lips curling into a smirk as you lightly smack his shoulder.

He lowers you down onto the couch, resting on top of you lightly. Charles leans to kiss you once more but you stop him, “Strip. Right now.” His eyebrows raise in shock at your command, “If I knew all it took to get you to order me around was to dress as a banana I would have put this thing on much sooner.” He mutters, pulling the costume and his t-shirt off in one smooth motion. You roll your eyes at him, removing your shirt and blindly throwing it on the floor. Charles descends on you, his lips attaching to your neck. Your hips buck up against him, rolling against the fast-growing bulge in his shorts. He groans at the friction, teeth nipping your collarbone, making you whine. “Charles please, we don’t have the time for teasing.” You grumble, pulling him back up to you as he laughs. “Just say you want me cherie, no need for an excuse.” He smirks, fingers slipping into your shorts. His eyes shut at the feeling of your arousal, always shocked by what he does to you, even in that stupid banana costume.

You roll your hips against his fingers, seeking some friction. Charles leans down to kiss you, lips swallowing your moans as he circles your clit. Your hands come up to cup his face, fingernails scratching lightly against his neck. He groans into your mouth at the sting, hips bucking against yours. Both of you pull away, heavy panting messes, and remove the rest of your clothes. Charles remains standing, staring down at your naked body before he pulls you up to him in a kiss. “So beautiful mon amour.” He whispers against your lips. Your hand travels down his chest, wrapping around his length, causing him to whimper into your mouth.

Your hand twists around the head of his cock, feeling the thick vein on the underside throb with each pass of your fingers. Charles stops your hand, picking you up once more only to spin around and sit down, positioning you on his lap. He groans at the way your wetness coats his cock immediately, your hips grinding against him. You reach behind you and hold the base of his cock, sliding the tip inside you. Charles’ head falls back at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut and mouth dropping open. His breathing gets heavier with every inch you take, encompassed by the feeling of your warm walls squeezing him.

“Please move mon cherie, can’t wait any longer.” He begs, hands finding your hips and eyes finding your own. His eyebrows furrow and a deep moan rumbles through his chest as you begin to bounce on his dick. His large hands slide down your hips to hold your ass, guiding your body to move on top of his faster, harder. You throw your head back with a moan, walls clenching around Charles at the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of you. Your wetness coats your thighs as he continues guiding you, his hips bucking up into yours.

His hand slides around the back of your neck, tugging your face to his. He slams his lips to yours, tongue swirling around your own as he feels the vibrations of your moans. Your legs start to burn with the movement, momentum slowing and causing Charles to whine. “No, no cherie, don’t stop, s’il vous plait.” He mumbles against your lips, hips thrusting up into you. You pull away from the kiss, your hand resting on Charles’ jaw. You slide the hand down to wrap around his thick neck, “Use me Charles, fuck me like this and make yourself cum.” You tell him, applying slight pressure to the sides of his neck. You feel the vibration of his groan against your palm.

Charles plants his feet on the floor before thrusting up into you. His cock hits your g-spot with every thrust, his name spilling out of your lips as curses spill out of his in French. His thrusts are sloppy but hard, desperate to give you pleasure. He’s begging now, needy whines spilling from his lips as he begs you to cum around him, holding back his own orgasm until he feels yours. His thumb slips around to the front of your body, rubbing circles against your clit. You scream his name, legs tensing as your orgasm floods over your body. The tightness of your pussy coupled with the way your eyes roll back and your hand tightens around his throat caused Charles to spill inside you. Ropes of his cum coat your walls as he moans out a string of mumbled thanks.

You collapse on top of him, gentle kisses placed to the red marks you left on his neck. He hums into your hair as you both lay in silence, until you remember the pasta sitting on the stove and rush to the kitchen; the sound of Charles giggling following you.

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hometoursandotherstuff · 6 months

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I thought that this 1885 Victorian in Helena, Montana was so pretty with it's colorful paint designs and rounded porches, and it is lovely inside, but it has one peculiar feature. 3bds, 3ba, $500K.

The front door opens to reveal a beautifully delicate railing and an original fireplace. The floor has been replaced and they added a lovely inlaid circle. There's also a wonderful original light fixture.

That divider piece is so pretty.

This entrance hall is amazing. Look at the windows, railing, and fireplace.

In the sitting room is a gorgeous fireplace- look at the tiles! And, even the fire screen is beautiful.

In the dining room is a lovely built-in china cabinet and it looks like the former owners left that sideboard.

And, then we enter the next room. What the hell is this? Beautiful fireplace, a built-in cabinet, original doors with transoms, and this monstrosity of a shower with a toilet standing there. Note the 2 industrial lights above the shower. I think that if they needed a shower it could've been done nicer. This is a big room, they could've enclosed it.

They have a closeup of the beautiful fireplace, but that shower and toilet ruin it.

I'm not keen on the modernized powder room, but I prefer it to the one in the other room.

I kind of like the vintage kitchen.

But, this. The size of this Aga stove. It's worth about $32,000. Also love the exhaust hood. I would buy this house for the stove and tear that stupid bathroom out & redo it.

There's lots of storage. The backsplash would have to go, it's much too modern.

The primary bedroom is large and has a door to the wonderful 2nd fl. porch out front.

This pretty bedroom is a good size and has a sweet stained glass transom. Love the lilac trim and crown molding.

Not lovin' this tub, but the room is kind of cute.

There's lots of potential in the attic and the current owners started to finish it, so the insulation and new windows are in and the other supplies are here.

There's no garage, but there's a large parking area.

Nice big yard. The lot is .29 acre.

Beautiful mountain scenery across the way.

They included this helpful diagram- since an Aga stove has no knobs and is always on, you simply select the oven you need. Like, if you want to roast something, you would choose the upper right oven, and if you want to keep the dish warm after cooking, you just transfer it to the oven on the lower left. Same thing with the burners on top. I think that the newer models come with rings so, if you wanted a lower heat you would use 2 or 3 rings to raise the pot or pan.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1701-Cannon-St-Helena-MT-59601/78160724_zpid/

#victorian house #victorian architecture #old house dreams #houses #house tours #home tour

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hearts4robs · 6 months

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𝐓𝐞𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 ☕️

———

Fandom. DC

Pairing. Richard(Dick) Grayson x f!reader

Genre. fluff/soft/sfw🍊

Word count. 1271

Warnings. None :)

Req. This wasn’t requested <3

Summary. Spending an afternoon in with your busy boyfriend was a foreign thing for the two of you. It only made it that more special when Dick for once wasn’t a dick. A quiet movie night sounds about right.

Notes. This story isn’t proof read, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way :) <3

———

It’s not that Dick isn’t an affectionate and loving guy; he really is. He’s just... a bit of an asshole, really.

He doesn’t think before he speaks; he’s hot-headed, and his temper isn’t easy to dance around. And it certainly doesn’t help if he’s stressed out or pressured into something, not that you’d ever pressure him into anything.

Dick was, in fact, a great boyfriend. He treated you well, communicated decently, and tried to see you as often as possible, despite his busy schedule.

But for once, Dick had an afternoon off. Totally cleared; no work, no training, nothing. So now he has time to spend with you. And when he finally submerged in the sheets of your shared bed, he headed directly for you. With messy, black bedhair and groggy eyes, his arms snaked around your waist, squeezing you lazily. A small grunt escapes you as you almost drop the tea bag that was in your hand.

“Good morning, Dick. Slept well?” You grunt out, your own voice a little hoarse for the lack of use the past few hours. Dick slowly loosens his arms around you, his hands cupping each side of your ribs and his fingers tracing circles over the fabric of your shirt. His nose searches for your neck, piercing through your hair as his eyes flutter closed, inhaling you.

"I've slept good.. real good.” He mutters, his voice groggy and strained with sleep. I press a kiss on your hair before pulling his heavy head back up. He straightens up as he opens his eyes again. “Making tea, I see?” He speaks as you lower the teabag into your mug.

You nod your head, patiently waiting for the kettle on the stove to boil your water. You turn around in Dick’s arms, a groggy and lazy smile appearing as soon as he sees your face.

“Do you want a cup?” You ask him, your hand brushing a few wild strands of hair out of Dick’s eyes, his eyelashes fluttering briefly before he focuses on you again. He smiles before ducking his face into the crook of your neck again, nuzzling his nose into the warm, soft skin of your neck. “No thanks,” he mutters, politely declining your offer, his warm and quiet breath fanning over your neck. “I’ll just steal a few sips from you.” A soft smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and Dick inhales your natural scent deeply. It fills his lungs and the pit of his stomach with comfort.

He litters a few kisses on the skin of your neck, obviously still tired from his nap. Your fingers push his hair pack, scratching his scalp. He groans contently, humming quietly as he enjoys the touch of your cold finger against his warm scalp. “I’m assuming you’ve got the afternoon off?” You ask him, your other arm wrapping around his waist. Dick nods, once again lifting his head to look at you. A smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah, rest of the night.” He says, blinking a few times in a row to really adjust to the cool lighting of the kitchen. "What does that mean?" You trail off a little, your smile turning into a playfully smirk as the hand your prior had buried in his hair travels to his chest, caressing his chest through his t-shirt. “movie marathon?” You finish, your smirk turning into a grin as you wrap your arms around his neck. He tightens his arms around your waist, pressing you back against the edge of the kitchen counter, dipping down, and pressing a few lazy kisses to your lips.

“Sure,” he mutters, his lips sculpting against yours. “as long as I get to choose.” His words get lost in your lips, his kisses trailing down your neck. Your head falls back slightly, a smile on your lips as Dick stops his kissing, once again hugging you tightly, his arms running up and down your back. A soft laugh escapes you, Dick straightening up again. His lips parted as if to speak. Before he gets to speak, he’s cut off by the howling of the kettle on the stove. Dick grunts quietly as your attention is torn away from him, your body turning around once again. He lets go of your waist, taking a small step backwards as he watches you.

You reach for the kettle, pouring the boiling water onto your mug, the flavor of the tea bag coloring the water quickly. You set the kettle back, taking your mug into your hands and turning it back around. Dick makes his way to the living room, which is openly connected to the kitchen. You follow, mug in hand, as you settle on the sofa beside Dick. Your muscles relax against him, with Dick lifting his arm and wrapping around your shoulder. His arm wraps around yours, his finger tips caressing your arm as he grabs the remote. He presses a kiss on your temple as he searches various streaming platforms for just the right movie. As he does so, you reach for the thick blanket lying a few inches from you. You pull it over you, tugging your knees up to your chest. Dick looks at you with a smile on his lips as he quickly tugs some of the blanket over him as well. The two of you melt against each other and into each other, like two separate pieces that fit perfectly together.

The movie plays, your eyes locked on the flashing screen as I mindlessly sip my tea. Dick glances at you, reaching over and wrapping his hand around the other side of the mug as you hold onto the handle. He leans closer, tilting the mug to his lips. He was definitely making it hard for himself, but his eyes were locked on the screen, like he didn’t want to miss a second. Your eyes land on him, a chuckle escaping your chest as you watch Dick. A few droplets of the hot tea roll down his chin before leaning back again.

“You’re making it very hard for yourself, babe.” You say, both your hands wrapping around the mug again before you press a kiss on his cheek. Dick simply hums out one of those 'I'm listening' sounds. Another small, breathy chuckle escapes you as your lips meet his cheek again. Dick simply squeezes your shoulders briefly with your kisses and laughs before just staring at the screen. He was barely blinking. A few more minutes pass, with a soft, tired smile on your lips as you lean your head against Dick’s. He tilts his head against yours, both of you breathing calmly. He turns his head slightly, his hand coming to the teacup again. He was like a little kid hyper-focused on his iPad, playing Coco-melon. You start smiling wider as you start guiding the mug to his lips. Dick is gulping the tea. He pulls away again, clicking his tongue before sighing contently.

You scoff out a chuckle before setting the now-empty mug on the coffee table. Dick’s eyes finally tear away from the screen, meeting your face. He quickly wraps his arms under your legs, turning you to face him, your legs over his lap. He re-wraps the blanket around the two of you, snuggling up with you. He sighed contently, his muscles relaxing as he finally embraced you. He finally had his whole world in his arms. Despite sometimes being an asshole and sometimes having an unhinged temper, he loves you.

And he’d rather die than not express that.

“I love you, [your name].” He mutters, squeezing you tighter.

———

Notes . This is my first piece of “proper” writing in like, 2 or 3 years so I hope y’all like it🫶 I’d love receiving feedback in the comments or my request/letter box!

#dick grayson #dc #titans #dick Grayson x reader #richard grayson #richard dick grayson #dick grayson x female!reader #fanfiction #soft #sfw

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probablyasocialecologist · 7 months

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One of the trad lifestyle’s most potent attractions is nostalgia. When the Neelemans began renovations on their 103-year-old, 2,500-square-foot farmhouse in 2018, they instructed the contractor to expose the original hardwood floors and restore the century-old fireplace that the previous owners had tiled over. They asked for a red wooden barn for their animals rather than the metal ones preferred by modern farmers. “Each time a visitor compliments us on how much they like our ‘old red barn,’” Hannah wrote on Instagram, “I smile. It’s only two months old, but you would never know.” The contractors also demolished the kitchen to bring Hannah’s vision to life, but “we didn’t restore our centenarian home to its original glory only to endow it with a modern kitchen,” she explained. Instead, they replaced the old white stove with a cast-iron AGA model that costs up to $20,000, hid the refrigerator in the pantry, and installed a linen curtain to conceal the dishwasher. Pioneers didn’t have such luxuries, but the Neelemans would—in private.

[...]

The past that tradwives want to return to, an anachronistic pastiche of rugged pioneer individualism and midcentury familial plenty, never really existed. The lifestyle they promote is, like the Neelemans’ faux-rustic kitchen, a thoroughly modern construction: its incongruous elements are concealed behind bespoke doors and linen curtains. These aesthetic signifiers, confused as they may be, point to periods of American history in which white families were prioritized above all others. And some tradwives are explicit about their desire for racial supremacy.

#Ballerina Farm #tradwife #conservatism #feminism #traditional living #alt right

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fortuositywritings · 2 years

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Never Gonna Happen Masterlist

Wanda x reader, fluff, jealous!Wanda

Summary: You hit on Wanda for the umpteenth time with no luck. What will it take for you to finally give up?

“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” You lean against the counter, giving your favorite Avenger a wink as she stirs the pot on the stove.

Wanda sighs, sparing her most annoying teammate no glance, “Maybe if you stop staring at me, you could see for yourself.”

“I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty, it’s impossible to look away.” You pretend to struggle turning your head away from her. “See? Impossible.”

She shakes her head at your silly antics, moving around the kitchen to grab the cutting board with the already chopped up vegetables. You watch as she adds the vegetables in the pot.

“It’s so nice of you to cook for us so often, but I think you should let someone else treat you to something from time to time,” you tell her.

“Let me guess,” she says unimpressed, taking the cutting board and knife to the sink. “By someone, you mean you.”

“Why of course,” you reply.

“You can cook now?” She almost laughs.

“Not even a little bit,” you shamelessly respond. “But I’m quite adept at making reservations. So how about it? You, me, Saturday? I’ll leave the cooking to the professionals.”

“Mmmh, Saturday is going to be tough for me,” Wanda answers while grabbing spices she needs from the spice rack.

“That’s okay!” You know you shouldn’t get too excited but you can’t help yourself. “Whatever day you’re free.”

“Does Never work for you?”

And there it is. You sigh in disappointment but it doesn’t really faze you. It’s not the first time she’s shot you down, but each time she does, you hope it’s the last.

“Weird. Can’t find that day on my calendar,” you joke lightheartedly.

“Keep looking. It comes after ‘When hell freezes over’,” she quips. Despite the fact she uses her quick wit against you, you find it super attractive. She should know by now that if she truly wishes you’d divert your attention to someone else, demonstrating her intellect through clever responses to shut you down is not helping her case at all.

She returns to the pot and adds the spices necessary. You move to stand behind her, leaning over her shoulder to look at what she’s cooking. A shiver runs down Wanda’s spine at feeling you basically breathing down her neck but she doesn’t ask you to move.

“Smells good,” you comment. You fight the urge to place your hands on her hips. Allowing you this close is a miracle in itself. You don’t want to push your luck, so you keep your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, won’t be long before the others smell what I’m cooking and rush in here,” she chuckles.

“I was referring to your perfume, but the stew smells great too,” you clarify. She tenses up, turning her head to look at you. Her face is merely centimeters away from yours, you freeze up as well.

“Y/N,” she whispers.

Your eyes leave hers and wander to her lips. “Yeah?”

She can feel your breath on her lips and it tickles. You lick your lips in anticipation for a kiss that you’ve only been dreaming about for weeks.

“Never going to happen,” she finally says.

It seems you’ll have to stick to dreaming.

“Ugh, so close,” you whine, but you back away and give Wanda her space.

“If you are going to linger around, how about you set the table,” she commands in lieu of acknowledging what you said.

You do as she says without question. In fact, you do so rather happily because she’s not sending you away like she usually does when you bother her. You set a table mat in front of each chair and go back to the kitchen to grab utensils only to find Wanda blocking the drawer full of them. You poke her side to get her to move, “Excuse me.”

“I’m busy,” she says, refusing to move. She had her hands occupied and if she moved now she would make a mess. You explain, “I need to get the spoons.”

Her hands never leaving the counter, she takes a step back and pushes her hips back to give you room to open the drawer. In doing so, she unintentionally leans her ass against your front. She hears your sharp intake of breath and apologizes. “Sorry.”

You gather your thoughts and joke to make this less awkward, “Hey, I’m not complaining. I’d just like a date first.”

She grumbles, “Shut up and get the spoons.”

You chuckle and open the drawer to collect the spoons, and Wanda tries her best to ignore you as her hands continue on doing what they were doing. You push the drawer closed but neither of you move quickly enough before someone walks in on your weird position.

“Woah, in the kitchen? Let’s have some class, please,” Nat teases, making Wanda scoff as she and you immediately back away from one another. You can’t see it since Wanda’s back is facing you, but Nat has a good view of Wanda’s flushed face. Wanda mumbles, “In her dreams.”

You retort, “I thought you stopped reading people’s minds?”

Nat laughs and Wanda just grunts in annoyance. No quippy comeback, you take it as a win. You decide not to rile up Wanda any further and go back to setting the table, asking Nat to grab the napkins for you. She follows you to the dining table. She tears a napkin for each place mat and you both work in tandem circling the table.

“One of these days, you are actually going to get on her last nerve and I will not stand in the way of a pissed off Wanda,” Natasha lets you know.

“Oh, no doubt, but by then we’ll have been dating for weeks and she’ll like me too much to stay angry,” you state, sounding so sure, Nat almost believes you too. She shakes her head at you, “You are crazy.”

You shrug, “Maybe.”

When the food is ready, everyone gathers at the dining table. When Wanda is going to sit, you rush over to pull the chair out for her like you have been doing since you started flirting with her. She rolls her eyes and says what she always does, “I can pull my own chair, Y/N.”

No one bats an eye at this interaction. They know it by heart now but some of them do notice how Wanda sounds less and less annoyed as the days go by. You always reply with something like “I’m more than happy to” or “It’s no problem” or a simple “I know”. Today it’s “You shouldn’t have to when I’m here.”

Natasha thinks this is the first time Wanda doesn’t sigh when she lets you push her chair in. You notice this too and smile all through dinner because of it, especially when Bucky fist bumps you under the table and whispers, “Smooth.”

A few days later, after coming back from a rather tiring mission, everyone sleeps well into the afternoon. You, on the other hand, forgo the chance to catch extra hours of sleep. Instead you wake up early to go into the city to buy what you need to make a cute Sokovian a nice candy basket.

Thinking everyone would still be asleep by the time you make it back, you are disappointed when you hear a feminine voice ask, “Whatcha got there?”

Luckily, it’s Nat and Steve who catch you trying to be sneaky. You could try to hide the bags behind you but there is no point in it. It’s not like you are embarrassed by it, but you just know Nat’s going to tease you for it. “I’m making a gift basket or more like a candy basket.”

“Candy? You think you’re going to win her over with candy?” She smirks at you. You know your teammates so well. You add, “Her favorite candies.”

Nat walks over to you and looks inside the bag to check out what candies you’ve bought. Steve, not needing you to explain who it’s for, asks curiously, “How do you know what candies she likes?”

Nat quirks an eyebrow at him like Are you really asking that? He lightly chuckles. “Oh, right. You’re in love with her. Of course you’d know.”

You roll your eyes, “I am not in love with her.”

Nat scoffs while opening one of the candy bags to take a sucker out. “Right, you just drove forty minutes out to buy these because you felt like it?”

“How do you know where I got them?”

“There aren’t many places that sell these,” Nat says as she takes the sucker out of the wrapper and puts it in her mouth.

“You drove forty minutes for candy?!” Steve’s eyes are wide with shock. He starts looking in the bag as well.

“It was on my way,” is your bad excuse.

“On your way to what? Wanda’s pants?” Nat jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“Are you sure you aren’t in love with her?” Steve teases you too.

You huff, annoyed now, “Just pick a candy and go. I have a basket to make.”

Steve decides on some Russian candy Nat tells him he has to try and Nat grabs one more sucker before they leave you alone. You head straight to your room. Once you finish the basket and it’s to your liking, you write a note and add it to the basket as a finishing touch.

You leave the basket at Wanda’s door and knock. Then you race around the corner and hide, waiting to see Wanda’s reaction. She opens the door, a cute confused look on her face when she sees the empty hallway. She notices the basket and bends down to see what that’s about. You watch her pick out the note and read it.

She rolls her eyes but she smiles. You have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in triumph. Then you hear Nat’s voice down the hall. “What did she write?”

You peek out your head again to watch Nat make her way to Wanda’s door. Wanda asks, “How do you know who it’s from?”

Nat rolls her eyes. “Unless you’ve got another admirer we don’t know about, I’m going to assume it’s from Y/N. Also, Steve and I caught her this morning trying to be sneaky.”

Wanda chuckles and shakes her head just thinking about it. She hands over the card for Nat to read. “‘A date with me could be pretty sweet.’ How adorable.”

“You think so?” Wanda asks as she picks up the basket. You can tell she is satisfied with the candies you picked out.

“No, it’s really cheesy, but she’s cute for trying,” Nat shrugs and hands back the note.

“She’s annoying,” Wanda complains, but it comes off pretty weak in Nat’s ears. You, however, frown at where this is going.

“Yeah, compliments and buying you things you like, real annoying,” Nat replies sarcastically.

“That’s not the point. I’ve turned her down so many times. When is it going to click in her head it’s never going to happen?” Wanda groans. You’ve heard enough. You leave after that, not staying around for the rest of the conversation.

“Maybe when you actually mean it,” Nat replies.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wanda narrows her eyes at Natasha.

“I’m talking about you stringing her along, making her think she has a chance,” Natasha tells her. Wanda tries to deny it but Natasha begins listing the things Wanda does. “There’s the playful eye rolls, the flirty glances you throw at her, and just last week in the kitchen! It’s confusing telling her she doesn’t have a shot when you’re two seconds from grinding in the kitchen.”

Wanda chokes, not able to utter back a response. Her face is flushed from embarrassment of getting caught in a compromising position or maybe from simply remembering being in that position in the first place.

“But you’re right. If you’ve said no, she should move on. All I am saying is that if you really want her to, maybe don’t flirt back,” Natasha advises and then leaves, giving Wanda much to think about.

Wanda doesn’t do all the things Nat says, does she? No, that’s ridiculous and she will prove it tomorrow when you undoubtedly will come looking for her like you always do. Whether you annoy her because you actually enjoy riling her up or simply because it’s become something of a daily routine for you, she doesn’t know, but she can count on you to be there. Then she’ll see if what Nat said holds any substance, but that’s highly unlikely because there is no way in hell Wanda actually likes you back, right?

___________________________________________________

I hope you enjoy this new series. I’m still working on Terms and Conditions! Don’t worry. And I’ll be working on some stuff for Kate and Yelena too. Let me know if you want to be in the taglist for this story or for all of them in general. Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @scarletswandawitch @imdreamingblo @anxietyisgreat @xxromanoffxx @romanoffomixam @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @harleyswanda @gimaximoff @simplysimping999 @cmaysf @frvny @sadpiscesheart @olsensnpm @chaekhan @dumpaccdontmindme @iliketozoneout @lordesolddepression

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you

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finelinevogue · 1 year

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happy holidays

summary- an insight to the most perfect christmas

warnings: you already know it’s just fluff

word count: +1k

It had been a busy Wednesday, teaching five lessons today. You thought going into secondary school teaching would be a lot easier than primary, but maybe you were wrong. English had been your favourite subject growing up, so being able to teach it back to younger generations made your heart completely happy.

Even though the day had been long, you knew that comfort was waiting for you when you got home.

Harry had pulled all the boxes down from the attic, as you had asked him to last night, now sat in the hallway and waiting to be unboxed.

“Babe, I'm home!” You called out, taking off your red scarf and coat to carefully place on the hangers beside the door frame. It had been freezing outside, so coming inside to a toasty warm house made you feel very cosy. You didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that your nose and cheeks were now tinted red.

Harry came out from the kitchen door, a tea towel strung over his shoulder, with a smile on his face as soon as he saw you. He made his way over to you, careful of the mindfield of cardboard boxes. He reached his hand out to brush some hair from your face all whilst leaning in to give you a welcome-home kiss. You cherished moments like these, where he was so soft and simple. He didn’t force the kiss to be anything more than a simple ‘i’m-glad-to-see-you’ and you just loved him even more for that. He was the perfect person to come home to at the end of a busy day.

“Good day?” He asked, pulling back but keeping you close.

“Busy, but good.” You smiled, following him through into the kitchen after he’d nodded his head at you. “Joe King actually did his homework for once and Dinah Mite finally remembered that i’m a ‘Miss’ not a ‘Mrs’.”

“You say that as if you’re offended that Dinah called you a ‘Mrs’?” Harry teased, knowing you meant nothing horrible by it.

“They can call me ‘Mrs’ when it’s official.” You raised your eyebrows at him. Leaning on the kitchen side you watched him stir the bolognese he was cooking some more.

After long days at school, Harry had decided to pick up his weight more around the house and so he started to cook dinner. You’d known each other for 4 years now and when you’d first met Harry hadn’t even known how to cook toast without burning it, so to see him now perfectly cooking a bolognese you were proud - and slightly impressed.

Due to Harry not having your standard 9-5 job, thanks to being a mega-rockstar, he was often home a lot and so he liked to help as much as he could. Your chores now only included washing the dishes and drying them each day, and Harry did the clothes washing, hoovering, dusting and cooking. He was happy to do anything to ease your life a little and make you as happy as he could. Seeing Harry in an apron and cooking cupcakes, when he’s written songs like Watermelon Sugar, did make you laugh though.

“Was that a challenge, Miss L/N?” He asked slyly, bending down to check on the garlic bread in the oven. The kitchen smelt completely divine.

“Pull out a ring, ask me and let’s see.”

“Nice try.” Harry rolled his eyes, tutting you because you thought he’d ever ask you to marry him like this. “Now, come taste this for me.”

You pushed yourself off the side and waltzed over to him and the stove.

You were very lucky. You had gotten to design your house yourself from the foundations to what colour paint you want on the walls. Everything had been yours and Harry’s choice, along with some professional guidance too of course. Your favourite part was your kitchen however, because you’d taken a lot of inspiration from Dakota Johnson and designed the most perfect vintage green, cottage-core inspired, kitchen. The best part was your sage-green Aga, which Harry was currently cooking the bolognese on.

Harry brought the spoon up to your lips, blowing it cooler for you first. He kept a hand under the spoon in case any dripped, whilst directing the spoon into your mouth and letting the sauce embrace itself onto your tastebuds.

“Mmm.” You hummed in delight, letting the warm and tomatoey sauce soak its way all over your mouth. “Perfect.”

“Yeah? You must be a bolognese sauce too then, ‘cause you’re perfect.” Harry cheesily said, laughing to himself as he got back to stirring and turning off the heat.

“That was awful.” You laughed, leaning up to give him a kiss to his cheek.

Dinner was lovely. You couldn’t have faulted anything about the meal, all because Harry was becoming a five-star Michelin chef. Both of you caught up with each other over dinner, whilst also discussing plans for Christmas. You take it in turns to spend each year with your families, because you’re both so close to each other's family that wherever you are it always feels like home. This year you were spending Christmas in Holmes Chapel, since last year you’d spent it at your family’s.

Currently Michael Buble’s Christmas album was playing on the record player as you opened the boxes, filled with Christmas decorations, that Harry had brought downstairs earlier today. Every year, you both argue when you should put your Christmas decorations up. Harry always argued for the first weekend in December, but you like to decorate December 1st and if it wasn’t obvious already - you’d won. The boxes were ridiculously full with crap that you end up buying every year from various Christmas markets. This year you were going for a red and tartan theme, with hints of silver, since last year you had gold decorations.

Since you were a little girl, Christmas decorating has been your favourite part of Christmas because it really symbolises the start of the festive season. Harry never really got involved too much when he was a child, but ever since he’s been with you he’d decided that it’s his favourite part of Christmas too. He doesn’t really care for the tinsel wrapped around the bannister on the stairs, the Christmas card holder hanging over various doors or even the wreath hung upon the front door. What he really cares for is seeing that shining smile of yours as you watch Christmas come to life in your home.

“Babe?” You called from the living room, knowing Harry was out in the hallway wrapping fairy lights into the tinsel on the stairs.

“Yeah, love?”

“Need your help for the star.” You responded, not being tall enough to actually reach the top of your Christmas tree. It smelt so nostalgic and amazing, having argued with Harry for a real Christmas tree because nothing beats the fresh pine smell of a real tree. Screw the artificial ones.

Harry came waltzing into the room after a minute, giving a little shimmy as a jazz band solo came from Buble’s ‘White Christmas’. You laughed as he came over to you, thinking to yourself that this whole evening could be no more perfect. You handed him the star, but suddenly the song stopped and changed and on came Buble’s rendition of ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ - which, unpopular opinion, you have to admit you preferred over Mariah Carey’s.

He grabbed the nearest object to him, which happened to be a snow globe, before singing into it along with Buble’s. He harmonised, like the beautiful musician he is, before singing in duet.

“‘Cause baby all I want for Christmas is you.” He pointed to you and you shook your head in laughter, watching him be the Harry you absolutely adored.

He made some dramatic gestures and slid closer over to you, making some god awful shapes as he tried to dance. You kept on watching him as he kept singing, enjoying the minute concert he was putting on for you.

“Make my wish come true. You know that all I want, for Christmas, is you.” He got closer to you, and took your hand to twirl you around in a circle. He ended up pulling you closer and twirling you into his chest. You smiled as you let him finish his last line, before cupping his cheek and leaning up to kiss him softly. You made sure he felt your love for him as you kissed him, without any mistletoe - just because you could.

“I love you.” You whispered as you pulled away from his lips, giving him a quick second peck before breaking apart from him.

“Might’ve been my best performance yet, actually.” He turned his lips down in pride of himself and put the snow globe safely back down.

“I think that rendition of ‘Santa Baby’ you did in that really skimpy–”

“Okay, okay. Shut up. Don’t need to relive that moment anymore than I already do in my nightmares.” He shut you up, both of you now remembering Harry dressed in a short little Santa dress as he was dared to whilst he sang Santa Baby. It was the funniest Christmas karaoke that you’d seen, having been dared by your brother when you spent Christmas at your family’s last year.

“Think it lives in my nightmares too.” You laughed, picking up the star for the tree.

“Oh alright, yeah, love you too.” He said sarcastically.

“You wanna put the star on?” You offered an apology, holding the star towards him, even though it was the part of the decorations that finished everything off.

“No matter the amount of teasing from you will make me take away your favourite part of Christmas from you.” He said, turning you around and lifting you up from the waist so you gained an extra few feet. You easily reached to put the star on top of the tree and it looked so perfect sitting up there. You smiled and nodded in approvement.

Next thing you knew Harry was letting you down, but only a little so he could swing you around and hold you up. You connected your legs around his waist, locking your arms around his neck as he held on tightly around your waist. He leaned in to give you a kiss on your nose, but you tilted your head up so he reached your lips instead. He chuckled into the kiss, not leaning back as you pressed yourself into him. He tasted like peppermint, which let you know he’d been snacking on the sweets you’d left in a bowl on the kitchen table. You hummed in delight as you breathed him in completely, before leaning back to look at your beautiful other half.

“Y/N?” He speaks quietly, as if there were other people around to hear.

“Yeah?” You rested your forehead on his, enjoying the feeling of being this close to him.

“Thank you for being my forever Christmas.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fluff #harry styles christmas fic #harry styles boyfriend blurb #boyfriendrry #boyfriend harry fluff #fic rec harry styles #fic rec finelinevogue

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exhaled-spirals · 7 months

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« It’s very lovely that Dálen [inventor of the AGA stove] decided to find a way to relieve housewives and housekeepers from the burden of fire keeping. Yet when men see women performing the intense labor of care work, they often seem to think they’re seeing a problem that needs solving. The problem is “care work is labor intensive,” and their solution is often, “Here is an invention that will make it more efficient for women to do care work.” The inventions are nice, but care work is always labor intensive and rarely efficient, even with a radiant heat stove. You know what would help women more than any invention? A critical mass of men willing to do care work. »

— Anne Helen Petersen, in her Culture Study substack

#quote #anne helen petersen #housework #english

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callsign-bunnie · 11 months

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Ayo, you never did that epilogue????? I would like it very much please

*gestures forward* Look, buddy, you and I both know who I am. What I am. But, I've had a rough fucking week at work, so you're just going to give me the epilogue and then we'll both never mention this again, cool?

Cool.

I am being threatened for an epilogue. Yes, sir, Mr officer sir

6 years passed. Rodolfo was 25, now, and… Well, he wouldn’t say he’d necessarily moved on but he was leagues ahead of where he’d been.

As promised, Price had gone back and burnt down the pizzeria. And… the police had never found the bodies like Price had said they would. Apparently the basement had gotten filled with rubble and they couldn’t even get through it to look.

So, a few months later, four missing kids and one missing woman “returned” and revealed to the police that they’d been taken by Frank Riley. Jen Laswell had valiantly and heroically rescued herself and the others and freed themselves from the clutches of Frank Riley.

She’d told the police that Frank had mentioned burning down the pizzeria to hide evidence of the five others he’d taken and that he’d mentioned something about a lake.

They combed that lake for months looking for the new missing persons but… Well, a DNA test pulled up that Jen, Alejandro, and the others were all themselves and… they just declared them all dead.

Frank Riley had also been declared dead and that he’d killed himself and just hadn’t been found yet.

So, they’d all been forced to move on. Price had profits from a second pizzeria that he revealed to them all to live off of. Alejandro moved in with Rodolfo as neither of them could really stand to be away from each other for too long…

Minutes and Rodolfo was panicking. Hours and he was having a full breakdown. And there were many times that Rodolfo was finding Alejandro had gone fully stiff, just standing as still as possible.

In fact, he’d startled many people by doing that and then just suddenly moving.

Both of them had lost their taste for pizza, too.

Rodolfo recovered from his bad habits. He would be two years sober in November. It hadn’t been an instant thing. In fact, he’d gotten a lot worse. But… he, Soap, and Alex had worked on recovering, together.

All three had formed a therapy group for those with severe survivor’s guilt. It had helped a lot. Alejandro, Kyle, Simon, and Gary had all four gone to therapy and apparently they used a lot of thinly veiled metaphors about feeling like dolls dressed up and forced to play…

None of them had lost touch, either. They were pretty close to a family, now, and were constantly calling to check up on each other.

In fact…

The next night, they all planned to have dinner together. It was September and Rodolfo had decided to try to cook for everyone. He hadn’t cooked this much food before but… he was confident in himself.

Which was why he was waking from a dead sleep, frantically remembering he’d forgotten to take the meat out of the freezer. Fuck!

He sat up, frowning when he realized Alejandro wasn’t there and tried to suppress his instinctual panic. Regardless of what happened, they both had functioning digestive and bladder systems. He probably was in the bathroom.

So, Rodolfo took a deep breath and stood, going to the bathroom and frowning when he saw the door was open and Alejandro wasn’t in there. Again, he tried to push down his panic. It’s fine… It’s fine…

Rodolfo took a deep breath and then went to the kitchen. Maybe Alejandro had remembered like he had…

As he approached the kitchen, he could make out a figure standing in the light that they kept on from the stove. Both of them had a residual fear of the dark that they hadn’t managed to get rid of so… it pretty much permanently stayed on.

Rodolfo relaxed as he approached. “Alejandro.. You scared me!” He smiled and went to the doorway of the kitchen.

There, he froze. The first thing he comprehended was just how much blood was all over the floor. Oh god…

Alejandro was leaned up against the fridge, slumped halfway down it. His throat was slit, a crimson smile stretched across it, and the blood almost coated the floor. “Ale…” Rodolfo whimpered.

No… No… No… this couldn’t be happening…

He looked up, trembling, and saw Mateo the Fox was standing nearby, holding a silver knife in his hand. “Remember me?”

Rodolfo covered his mouth, shaking. “Oh god…” He couldn’t think over how afraid he was. He was back… He’d came back… Alejandro was dead again and Mateo had came back…

“Oh, Rodolfo… You hadn’t really thought you’d ever get away from me, did you??” Mateo asked as he stalked forward. “I’m always going to be here. Right up here.” He reached up and then flicked Rodolfo’s forehead.

Rodolfo woke up screaming, sitting upright in the bed and thrashing as something wrapped around him. “Oh god, let me go! Let me go!”

“Rudy! Rudy!” Alejandro cupped his face, holding it between his hands. “Rudy, calm down! It’s okay!”

Rodolfo panted and stared into Alejandro’s eyes before slowly relaxing and calming down. Tears were streaming down his face and he lunged forward, hugging Alejandro tightly.

“It’s okay… We’re out of there.” Alejandro murmured, rubbing Rodolfo’s back. “Everything is okay…”

Rodolfo shook his head. “I… You were dead, again… You were dead and Mateo was back and… He said he’s always going to be here…”

“That wasn’t real… It was just a nightmare, Rudy…” Alejandro pulled away and reached up, brushing Rodolfo’s hair out of his face. “Hey, since you’re awake… Did you remember to set out the meat?”

Rodolfo hesitated before shaking his head. “No…” He started to get up and Alejandro did the same. They both went to the kitchen and Rodolfo froze at seeing a figure standing in the light of the kitchen stove, which they both kept on because of a fear of the dark.

Then, Rodolfo relaxed as he recognized Soap, holding his chest. He, Simon, and Gary lived with them. Alex and Kyle lived with John, Kate, and Jen… All just felt safer this way.

“Soap?”

Soap turned around, looking at them. He was rubbing his eyes, holding the meat package. “Sorry, you mentioned needing to put this out and… I was awake, anyway.”

“Nightmares?” Rodolfo asked, stepping into the kitchen and frowning when he saw Simon and Gary were both sitting at the table. Gary was half dozed off on Simon’s shoulder.

Soap snorted. “Always. You too?”

“Always.” Rodolfo nodded, relaxing as he felt Alejandro wrap his arm around him.

“I don’t think I’m getting back to sleep.” Simon spoke up, sipping from a mug.

Rodolfo snorted, since he likely wouldn’t, either, and he and Alejandro moved to sit at the table. “I’ll make breakfast in a moment.”

“Already on it.” Soap said and then Rodolfo saw him get a bunch of stuff out of the pantry to cook. Oh well, he didn’t mind.

“Kyle said he and Alex don’t get many nightmares anymore. I guess… Some people move on.” Alejandro spoke up. “Wish we could.”

Gary suddenly sat upright and stiffened. Then, his face morphed into a glare and he got up, leaving the kitchen, before coming back with a shoebox.

Rodolfo recognized it, immediately, as it was the box with Blue in it. “You don’t think…”

No one answered, just watching Roach get out a large metal bowl and the kitchen scissors. He came back, cutting up the Blue doll into pieces over the bowl and then he lit a match and dropped it in.

All flinched as the flame in the bowl roared before slowly calming down to a simple blaze. Weight felt like it’d been lifted up from Rodolfo’s shoulders and he rolled them, rubbing at them.

“Evil Bastard.” Simon muttered. “Able to torture us, even from a fucking doll.”

Rodolfo shook his head. “Whatever. Hopefully it’s over now.” He mumbled. “Now we never have to think about it, again.”

“Yeah, about that…” Soap came over. “I was at the library and I found this article. They weren’t the first to go missing.” He gestured around the table. “I think Frank had a practice run, first. That’s why he knew what to do.”

Rodolfo frowned and looked down at a newspaper that Soap dropped on the table, seeing a report about 3 kids that had gone missing. “That second Pizzeria that Price mentioned… Doesn’t it have three animatronics?” Rodolfo asked, remembering Price talking about it.

All were silent and then Alejandro was standing. “I’ll call Alex and Kyle.” He muttered, walking off.

Rodolfo put his head in his hands. This was supposed to be over…

“Fuck.”

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grison-in-space · 7 months

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Hi! You were asking why an AGA stove even exists. In the random offchance you didn't get your answer - status symbols, mostly. They were originally invented by a man who loved his wife! She liked to have lots of different dishes in the oven heating constantly. The AGA has multiple compartments that can be kept at a variety of temperatures.

They came to be associated with a particular upper-middle-class British lifestyle, specifically in the country estate that had to be renovated to allow for modern heating systems. The kind of estate that was all wet, cold, stone, with no proper ventilation. The term "AGA romance" is a romance novel about a woman who... marries someone with the type of estate that needs this? I think? I haven't actually read one. Some Canadians/Americans are buying them "to help with the cold" but I have no idea why anyone would take a British heating solution and apply it to our climate. There are plenty of other solutions that seem much more reasonable, but alas, classism sells.

See, that makes sense to me. Speaking as someone in Minnesota, though, I can't imagine that something like that would be super great in a modern, global-warming-influenced climate: the hideous heat waves of summer that everyone is already wrestling with already make it impractical to cook much, and tying your cooking apparatus to your general household climate seems... bad.... if you want to be able to cook whenever things are too hot. But in a relatively mild climate like England's, without too much in the way of heat waves until recently, it does make more sense--especially on an old-time country estate where you'd have more reason to be cooking larger quantities more frequently.

Realistically, I'm gonna continue putting my cold remediation money into a) improving insulation in the house, b) electric blankets and pet beds, c) worst case, using my perfectly good oven more often in the winter to cook with.

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hometoursandotherstuff · 17 days

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Thanks to Chuckstipositon for finding this lovely home in Lochbay, Waternish, Isle Of Skye, Scotland. It was a finalist in BBC Scotland's Home of the Year 2023 and winner of Highlands and Island Home of the Year 2023. 4bds, 2ba, £525K / $663,495.

Enter a lovely newer modern sun room.

Then, the historic part of the home. Look at the stone walls in the living room. They've been whitewashed to match the newer addition and brighten it up.

It's so pretty and cozy, isn't it?

The kitchen also has the stone walls and two tone cabinetry.

Wow, it has a new Aga stove.

There's a pantry area in the back of the kitchen, beneath the stairs.

Reading nook under these stairs.

Up the gray stairs is an attic studio.

A modern .5 bath shares the room with the washer/dryer.

There's a compact kitchenette unit here in the family room.

Bedroom with a cute mural.

Nice double shower.

Stairs go up to a pretty primary bedroom.

It's a spacious room.

And, it has a beautiful en-suite.

There's another bedroom up here, also.

Plus a lovely guest room.

Small back porch opens to the yard by the water.

There's even a small home office.

Beautiful gardens and decks with stunning views.

The back yard.

It's a very sought-after area of Scotland.

https://www.zoopla.co.uk/for-sale/details/66785606/

#lake homes scotland #old homes #houses #cottages #house tours #home tour #submissions

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merci-bitch · 2 years

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What about a Zelda Spellman x reader where the reader has a panic attack?

Hi!

What a soft idea ! Xx

Not my best work, but it’ll do :)

(Ops ! Gif isn’t mine !)

“Sabrina, thank Beelzebub, I need you.”

Zelda said in relief as she saw Sabrina make her way through the front door.

“For what?” Sabrina asked.

“I’ve got Y/N downstairs on the verge of hysteria, and your aunt Hilda is at that ridiculous bookstore, but I’ve got a pot of her calming tea on the stove. Fetch it and come down.” Zelda said before disappearing down to the basement. Sabrina’s brows knitted themselves in confusion for a short moment before doing what she’d been told. Carrying the pot slowly downstairs, careful not to fall on the slim steps of the rounded staircase. When she reached the last step, she acknowledged what was happening in front of her. You were rambling all kinds of words, trying to fight off Zelda’s grip on your arms. You were crying, although it was as if you were more in shock than fear.

“Tranquil thoughts, my dear, you’re fine.”

“I-I can’t breathe. I just-I don’t understand what happened. Was it my fault?” Your voice was quiet. Trembling.

“Nonsense. Sabrina, pour the tea.” Zelda replied.

“Already poured, Aunt Zee,” Sabrina said as she handed the cup to her aunt. You looked down at the cup as Sabrina handed it over to Zelda.

“It’s not poison, is it?”

“Of course not. It’s chamomile with a calming tincture. Drink up.” Zelda said with a soft chuckle as she gave you the cup. You looked at her again before, you began to drink.

“Finish every drop, that’s a good girl,” Zelda said with a whisper. You handed her the cup once you’d finished the tea. Your hands were shaking.

“What’s happening? What’s wrong with me?” You asked her. Silent tears making their way down your cheeks. Zelda lifted your chin with her finger and made you look at her. Cubbing both your cheeks with her hands. “Your blood pressure is abnormally high. You’re having a panic attack.” You placed your own hands-on top of Zelda’s and looked into her forest green eyes, feeling Hilda’s calming tea taking effect. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You felt Zelda press a soft kiss on your forehead.

“There we go. Just keep breathing.”

You felt Zelda move away from you only to feel a blanket being wrapped around you. You opened your eyes and saw Zelda wrapping you in the blanket and Sabrina sitting next to you.

“What happened auntie?”

“Sabrina, for Lucifer’s sake, give her some space.”

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to know what happened to her, aunt Zee,” Sabrina said in defence. The two continued to bicker as you slowly calmed down. It was almost amusing watching them. They would bicker about the most out of matter things sometimes. Zelda’s head snapped in your direction and your small smile disappeared.

“Well? What happened?”

You started fumbling with your hands. “It was nothing.”

“I’ve known you all my life auntie Y/N, and I’ve never seen you like this. There must have been something that would have made you this sad.”

“I agree with Sabrina, Y/N. What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

You wiped your nose with the shelve of your shirt. Sabrina handed you a napkin. You took it and gave her a small smile and a whispered ‘thank you.

“Well, I was at the bookstore- “

“You were at the bookstore when this happened?! In Satan’s name, what was Hilda so busy with to not notice- “

“Zelda, you cannot blame your sister for this. She is not my keeper.”

“No, but she certainly has responsibilities! Sabrina where did you put my shovel?”

You rolled your eyes at Zelda before grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Promise me you won’t kill her?”

Zelda gave you a sceptical look. “Fine.” She gave your hand a soft squeeze herself as reassurance. Sabrina watched the gesture with a smile. She wrapped her arms around you and gave you a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re feeling better auntie.” You smiled down at your niece and returned the hug. You looked up and meet with those forest green eyes again. Zelda couldn’t deny the small smile forming on her lips from seeing two of her favourite girls curled together. It was the simple things in life that gave her peace. Even if it was dealing with Sabrina’s troublemaking or a cry or two. It was home.

#ask #zelda spellman x reader #caos

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