#and you thought sock was the wardrobe disaster | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lostinbooks14 · 8 months

Text

Times in the Wilderness

Hot Girls Make Leo Panic

The bell rang sharply, blasting through the entire school in a high pitched ring. Oh thank God.

Not even ten seconds passed before someone slammed the door open.

He gasped involuntarily, shrinking back in his chair, his breath coming out in short sharp wheezes.

"Ohmigoshimsososorry!" Someone shrieked, which was not helpful like- at all.

"Leo everything's fine, ok? Come on you know what to do, count to ten with me."

It wasn't really a panic attack, so he calmed down when they got to four, but Ms.Loraine insisted on going up to seven before stopping.

"Shit I really didn't mean it I'm so sorry!" The girl started again.

He twisted around in his seat to look at her, and the first thing he noticed was that she was really, extremely pretty.

He wondered if she was wearing makeup, it didn't seem like it, but what did he know about makeup anyway?

Her hair was layered and went down to just below her shoulders. It was dark brown, but extremely luscious and silky so that it shone gold when the light hit it.

She was wearing the school uniform, a white shirt tucked into a dark green skirt that went just above her knees. She had on white sneakers and calf-length socks, a tie with stripes in different shades of green slung around her neck. She wore a green blazer over it all, a badge which he supposed was the school logo on the right side.

Her skin was tanned, and she didn't look white or mexican, sort of south American looking, he supposed. He hadn't really had a lot of time to learn about ethnicities in the past. But back to the topic, he couldn't see a single scar or birth mark on it. It was so smooth that it was kind of unnatural.

"Hey, I'm Piper!" She grinned, revealing perfect white teeth between her rosy full lips. She came and plopped down next to him, and ok- he'll admit it, she was really hot. "Are you OK? God I'm so sorry! It's a huge rush out there and I didn't want to be late so I practically ran here," she laughed.

He have an awkward nod. Hot girls never liked him. This was going to be a disaster. He really hoped she wouldn't introduce him to her friends.

"I'm sure it's fine, Piper," said Ms.Loraine, waiting for him to agree with her. He stared at his shoes. He'd gotten a new pair from Mrs.Patroner as a 'gift'- he thought she was just trying to bribe him to stay.

"Anyhow," Ms.Loraine continued, "this is Leo's schedule, Piper. Could you show him around the school? He has the same classes as you except for Physics and Math."

"Wow someone's smart," she grinned at him after looking at his schedule, he looked away.

"Well I have another session, so get going then. All the details about his dorm is in here. His uniform, books and other clothes should be in his wardrobe.," she handed Piper a file and they awkwardly walked out the door.

Well, he walked awkwardly. Piper immediately started talking non-stop.

"OK so I'll come pick you up next morning for the morning run. It's so cold and we have to run for absolute ages. There's a shower in every dorm. We'll have to find out where your Year 12 classes are though. And by the way, why are you here? You seem pretty quite but I'm not sensing any delinquent-ness."

He shifted awkwardly, trying to ignore the weird voice in his head that was pushing him to tell her everything. Couldn't she shut up already? He'd bet all his money (if he had any) that she's forget about him by next morning. Why would someone as hot as her want to hang out with him anyway?

"I'm here cause I'm apparently a 'klepto'," she rolled her eyes. "I'm so not. People just love giving me what I want. My dad wasn't convinced though. When he found out I'd 'stolen' a BMW he shipped me right off here..." She seemed sad at that- which had him wondering why she even told him in the first place.

"So this is the cafeteria, over there's the gym lockers. You can see the tennis court over there. The football field is at the front. You saw it on the way here?"

He nodded mutely. He'd been too busy trying not to vomit to notice anything.

"This is basically the same as any other school. Bit more strict, that's all. Oh, you're probably here cause you have ADHD and dyslexia, is that it? Seems a really dumb reason to send you here. But don't worry, I'm dyslexic and ADHD too. The kitchen's over there if you ever want to sneak in at night. There's an indoor pool upstairs. That's the staircase leading to the roof. We had a midnight party there last Friday. The assembly hall is just around the corner. Blah blah blah. You don't really need to know all this stuff. But your dorms right over here. Wonder why they put you with thirteen year olds." She laughed, looking at him as if waiting for an answer.

He shrugged, wondering if she really thought short, skinny Leo was her age.

"Probably cause there's no space anywhere else. The school's filling up more everyday," she decided.

She opened the door and went in, seemingly unbothered that this was a boys' room.

The large room was empty. Six beds lined up neatly against the wall, three on each side of the room. They were all made, but the stuff on four of the bedside tables showed they were occupied. There was a wardrobe on the left side of the bed. The bedside tales with a mirror on the other. There were a few drawers under the bed, probably to store books, Leo thought.

"There aren't any desks in the dorm," Piper began again. "We have to go to the library or outside to do homework and study. 'Helps build character and socialise,' they said. That must be your bed." She nodded at the one right next to the door before pulling open the wardrobe.

His school uniform was hung up. Next to it a pile of neatly folded casual clothes, with the underwear right on top. He vaguely registered that maybe he should feel embarrassed, but Piper seemed unfazed, and he was way too tired anyway.

"Let's go down to lunch! You can meet my friends! I'll bet they'll be SO excited!" She practically squealed and grabbed his wrist. He jerked back immediately, eyes widening again, but Piper was already out the door. "C'mon, let's go before the good food runs out!"

Yup, this was going to suck.

#i know my writing's horrible #you dont have to say it #and i know this is going horribly off topic #i wanted to make it short like a couple of one-shots #but here we are #but i promise it'll start to get more canon related later #when jason comes and all that #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez #piper mclean #piper and leo #hoo fanfic #heroes of olympus fanfic #the lost trio #lost trio #times in the wilderness

32 notes · View notes

agentroz · 6 months

Text

Monday, November 13 -- #OOTD: Come up with five significant full outfits from your character’s wardrobe/life and describe them in detail.

Warnings: Body image issues, objectification, sexual harassment, misogyny, references to murder (not described)

Dispatches from Disguises and Alibis, 1983-1984

Agent 100:

Enclosed you will find your materials for your upcoming mission. please see that they are returned in a timely fashion.

-D&A

Date: 16 February 1983 Mission Location: Manchester, UK Target: Redacted Contents: Nurse's uniform (dress, stockings, shoes, headpiece)

Roz runs her fingers over the starchy blue material, standard-issue for women in the profession. There's an accompanying headpiece that Roz can't imagine serves a medical purpose as well as some white stockings and nonslip shoes that seem much more practical. There's an irony to it, the way this uniform is supposed to be for people who save lives instead of ending them. But the target deserves it, Roz is certain, and she had better act fast before he can cause any more misery and suffering. She slips the syringe into a hidden pocket in her uniform dress, takes one last look in the mirror, and goes outside to await her transport to the hospital.

She almost freezes when the doctor gives her an up-down look. Does he suspect something? Is she going to bungle her first solo mission?

And then she realizes. No one's ever looked at her that way before. She thought she'd like it more.

Date: 10 July 1983 Mission Location: Palma, Mallorca Target: Redacted Contents: Bikini, sarong

HQ must have made a mistake. There's no way this minuscule bikini was actually meant for her. There's an accompanying floral sarong (and thank goodness for that, because Roz needs somewhere to hide the knife) but it barely covers anything, and Roz feels entirely exposed. Not in the way agents are supposed to be— she knows her story backwards and forwards— but she's acutely aware of the curves of her body, the way she seems to spill out of the thin material. Like that cheesy old song about the yellow polka-dot bikini— except this is a turquoise one, with little strings that tie in the front.

When she raises this with the handler, he shakes his head. "No, that's correct," he says, double-checking the notes. "It's perfect, actually. the less you're wearing, the less likely anyone'll suspect you're hiding anything. And, I mean, it'll certainly distract the target. Why, have you got a problem with it?"

Roz shakes her head. She wants to be a good agent, a good killer. She can put up with some men staring at her ass. How hard can it be?

Date: 29 August 1983 Mission Location: Atlantic City, New Jersey Target: Redacted Contents: T-shirt, khaki shorts, crew socks, fanny pack, trainers

A scratchy cotton T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a fanny pack, and some chunky New Balance sneakers. Another resort town, but this time Roz isn't bringing men cocktails on the beach, she's standing watch outside Caesars Palace pretending to take photos. Another agent leapt at the chance to go into the casino and carry out the deed, and Roz didn't think the handler wanted to give it to Roz anyway after the near-disaster that was Mallorca.

She feels much more herself, standing here and blending into the scenery. Until she hears a man yell something vulgar— and as much as she'd like to pretend otherwise, it's definitely aimed at her. Despite her training, Roz flinches. The man's far away, and he's already set his sights on someone else, but she feels a twinge of fear.

She doesn't understand it— she's always thought she was so good at blending in. Is it the shorts? Are they too short? Does it even matter, or will they just find a way anyway? Maybe it's the seedy nature of this boardwalk, or the fact that it's so late at night... Roz is quite good at cracking codes. She's sure she'll crack this one.

Date: 31 December 1983 Mission Location: London, UK Target: Redacted Contents: Evening gown, pearl necklace, pearl earrings, pearl hairpin (poison dart)

Roz doesn't like this dress either, but she doesn't say anything about it. She's one of the newest, youngest recruits, after all, and she still hasn't forgotten about Mallorca. She doesn't think anyone else has, either. So she sucks in her stomach and squeezes into the shiny blue Gunne Sax dress and pretends to like the way it hugs her curves and dips low in the front. The full skirt leaves plenty of room, anyway, for a concealed weapon, though all she really needs is the little pin that's going into her teased blonde hair. That's where the tranquilizing poison in, which will perfectly set up her associate for the kill.

She establishes herself in a quiet corner, hoping, as usual, to blend into the scenery. An older woman brings a martini over.

"All these young girls, made up like street whores. All clamoring for the same kind of attention." the woman snorts, which confuses Roz. They all looked like they followed the same instructions from HQ that Roz followed. And through her cat-eye glasses, she can see plenty of them looking less-than impressed with the men who seem to want their attention. And yet nobody's commenting on them.

She just nods, though, instead of disagreeing, because she is supposed to blend in.

Date: 20 February 1984 Mission Location: Cambridge, UK Target: Redacted Contents: Biohazard suit

Roz feels safe behind the big bright biohazard suit, her face barely visible, every inch of her body covered. Not just from the fumes in the lab, but from the other technicians as well. Until she doesn't. And that's when she realizes: there is no code to crack. Because it's not about clothes, or bodies. It's about something else, and it's forever.

#swynwrimoemma #swynwrimo2023 #sorry why do i keep making these depressing #guys i swear roz liked being an agent i swear #i will write something fun about her backstory eventually i promise

0 notes

felix-ander · 2 years

Text

Random Headcanons Pt.2

this time it's for the other characters. Once again there might be some character spoilers or some spoilers from certain routes. This is mostly shit I just kinda thought of

OnionThief

does the bunny ear method when tying shoes

when he is at his family's house he reads his siblings to sleep

feels extremely guilty if he buys anything for himself

"This money could have been put to better use"

he doesn't drink coffee bc he doesn't want to get addicted/dependent on it

actually impossible for him to not argue with NightOwl

"It is not my fault that he is wrong all the time😒"

was on the debate team in high-school

he really said "let me play devil's advocate🤓"

also was in coding club

despite being in computer science he owns and average computer that will get him by

Why spend 300$ when a 100$ one will do?

extreme couponer

he uses scrapbooks to hold his coupons

buys his family's groceries

June

has a fuck ton of apple pens bc she loses them a lot

enjoys taking pictures of her food

when she bakes she adds a bit more sugar than the recipe says to add

she is pretty short

a big fan of wedge shoes

has one of those bicycles with a basket in the front

takes vitamins every morning

has an Instagram art page and does commissions sometimes

it has 5k followers and she still can't believe it

her favorite fruit is strawberries

she dips her strawberries in sugar

has had the same drawing tablet since grade 9 (I think its freshman in American)

she's trying to get a new one tho bc it has calibration issues

she has a switch

her favourite game on it is Fire Emblem Three Houses

SalociN

excersises with his wife

a really good gardener

super proud of the tomatoes he is growing

after he retired he joined a bowling team for a year

he wasn't very good but still found enjoyment in it

every Saturday his family has a game night

and every Sunday they have a movie night

super close to his kids

I imagine when his kids would come home from school and were like "Dad you will NOT believe what happened today" and he's like "I'm all ears"

he writes his wife love notes

when he visits first wifes grave he tells her everything that happened since the last time he was there

his wife Mara sometimes tags along

BIGLADY

big wine buyer

plans to get a wine cellar in the future

owns a cat themed calander

watches tik toks non stop

tried to make bread once but it was a disaster

wants to be a crafty person so bad but it just do not work out

she can play guitar and ukulele

also has a decently good voice

always keeps a hairbrush on her

she wore runners to her prom

she enjoys nature walks

she does stretches to start her day

hates avocados with a passion

she like actually becomes so angry when she gets something and they don't removed the avocados that she requested get removed

Two2

likes One Punch Man but only the first season

hates how the second butchered the arts syle

likes raspberry cream horns

wears mismatching socks

they like wearing bracelets

sometimes they make them for their sister

bought their sister a nice fluffy pair of earmuffs so she could block out their parents arguements

got a back brace they don't wear too often

use to work at an ice cream shop during the summer

They are not very drippy

they got a plain ass wardrobe

eats Flintstones chalk vitamins for fun

#blooming panic #two2 #bp onionthief #onionthief #blooming panic biglady #bp two2 #blooming panic june #bp june #blooming panic two2

70 notes · View notes

amikoroyaiart · 3 years

Note

do you have any thoughts on how modern!clones would dress? i think it’s so fun to imagine how they would express themselves..i think fox would rock a burgundy denim jacket and some docs, maybe matching with rex except in blue :) wolffe is that one guy that always wears a white dress shirt and suit for sure. do you think fox and amaya would match outfits sometimes?? 🥺

Oh that is a good question! I believe Rex would wear sportswear in blue colours. He is a fit man and always has his gym bag nearby.

Cody would wear some tight sweaters with a shirt underneath or cardigans. It's something between business and comfort.

I like to imagine Wolffe wearing his suits during the week, looking all professional but the moment the weekend starts his tie goes off!

I love this idea for Fox! I also imagine him in black leather jacket and some tight dark pants(maybe jeans)? 😳 oh my yes! Amaya and Fox would always be the best dressed couple! She loves fashion so damn right she would love to be in charge of his wardrobe while Fox is like 'do what you want I trust you'. I can also imagine that the moment Fox is home he puts one some baggy hoodies or sweaters with warm and fuzzy socks and enjoys a cup of coffee on his couch with some warm snuggles with her💖

I also believe Thorn would be a fashion disaster (nothing works in his outfits). Maybe Hound would wear leather jackets too? I can imagine him working at animal shelter and then playing in the rock band during weekends.

55 notes · View notes

guardiandae · 2 years

Text

A little snippet of the Cable/Deadpool smutathon I'm working on (currently on chapter 4!) as proof of life bc I'm not near ready to post anything yet

Under a readmore to spare virgin eyes

Wade paused, leaning against a brick building to poke at his slurpee, which was now mostly pale blue ice instead of the neon slush it had once been.

Cable watched the other man's hands as they fidgeted with his straw. They were strong and well-crafted, like the rest of him was. All solid muscle, wrapped in mottled skin that looked like it might have the most intriguing – or repulsive – texture. Even in civilian clothes, Wade tried to keep his skin under wraps, but tonight his sleeves were pushed back, allowing just anyone to visually trace the scarred skin along his forearms and wonder how far it went. Cable had the privilege and pleasure of knowing, but he wanted to find out all over again. Properly, and completely.

Stopped like this, Cable took a moment to assess the disaster of Wade's wardrobe. Navy blue track pants. Loose white socks that were stuffed into a pair of sandals. The front of his sweatshirt had the words, What? Like it's hard? written in bold, pink lettering.

Cable pondered the meaning for a moment, but could not come up with anything besides it most likely being some obscure, lewd come-on that was niched to this decade or even this year. Knowing Wade, that's exactly what it was meant to be, like the pair of sweatpants he owned with the word "Juicy" written across the back. He decided he wanted to hear Wade explain it to him.

"What's that about?" he asked, gesturing to the front of Wade's shirt.

Wade gave his chest a quick glance to remember what was on it.

"You know, when Elle gets accepted into Harvard and her shitty ex boyfriend Warner thought she was too stupid to do it? 'What, like it's hard?'" He quoted, giving Cable an eye roll and a strangely sultry gaze as he wrapped his lips around the straw again and sucked.

Cable didn't dare to ask what in the nine hells Wade was talking about. If he did that as often as it came up, the majority of every conversation with Wade would be spent having 21st century pop culture explained to him.

But apparently his face gave it all away.

"You've never seen Legally Blonde?" Wade asked, incredulous to the point of sounding offended.

"When I'm from, your little powder puff chick flicks didn't exactly survive."

"What?! Elle Woods is iconic. How did that not survive for all eternity?" Wade lamented. "No wonder your future is fucked up."

"You know what's fucked up? Your tax sheltered billionaires fucking this world in every hole like a coke-fueled gangbang."

Wade had tried to take another sip, but choked on it, splurting.

"Hold on," Wade wiped his mouth. "I wasn't prepared to be horny about environmentalism. What about me being a gangbang whore? Say it softer. And is Chris Hemsworth there?"

"You're incorrigible," Cable smirked.

"Nah, I got tested for that."

#cablepool #my fic #wiptalk #sorry i started a new wip but in my defense i am having fun

7 notes · View notes

casualmaraudering · 3 years

Text

so i can't get family feels out of my head so have some headcanons feat wolfstar having their first baby

Sirius is immediately so excited at first

and even though it's a nine month long wait (even longer with a procedure of getting a surrogate and all) he's so very happy

he physically cannot go shopping without coming back with at least one bag of baby stuff

the socks are so tiny, he's not strong enough to resist

he clears a room in the house right away. Remus doesn't let him turn it into a nursery that fast, but they designate it as the baby stuff pile and so Sirius puts all the shopping bags there

and really, Remus acts as if he's more calm about the whole ordeal but he also contributes to the baby pile quite fast

Sirius will randomly grin to him and go "we're gonna have a family" and how can you not love this man when he's this happy about it?

around the halfway mark is where things turn different

it's when they start painting the nursery, buying furniture, and slowly coming up with names when Sirius has A Thought

it being: what if i end up like my parents

what if the baby hates me like i hated my dad and mom

what if they won't feel at home here like i did

he panics, and internalises it, and therefore freaks himself out even more

he lets it slip during a dinner with James and Lily. the remainder of the dinner is spent with everyone telling him what a fantastic dad he's going to be and why are his thoughts such bullshit

even Regulus texts him the next day saying the kid will be happy to have such a home

they don't have a baby shower so to say, but there is a gathering of friends and family where everyone gifts them things. and also there's cute cupcakes (gender neutral ones, cause Sirius and Remus 1 don't want to make the gender a weirdly big deal 2 they want to find out at birth so no gender reveals) and James cries a lot about being an uncle

Sirius quits smoking finally

Sirius decides he doesn't need instructions to put furniture together

he is immediately defeated by an ikea wardrobe

Remus puts it together with surprising ease. he uses the instructions though

the nursery is yellow (Remus's favourite colour)

Sirius buys so many glow in the dark stars. so. many

the stars and the moon are a theme, of course. there's a little mobile with some stars and the moon in the centre, the furniture has star shaped handles, there's a little space rug, and there's also wolf and dog plushies - they go all out and yes, it's sappy, but it's their baby okay, they get to be sappy

they spend a lot of nights just cuddled together and talking about the family they'll have

Sirius cries so hard when he sees the baby for the first time

Remus also cries. but Sirius honestly tears up every time he sees the baby for like. the entire day

just imagine those two boys holding hands and having the biggest smiles on their faces looking at their little baby

the few black hairs on his head and the tiny hands and the little feet and small chubby cheeks

they name him Leo

(Regulus has no excuse not to visit now)

they talk to the baby a lot

Remus reads him his favourite books as a way to pass time. Pride and Prejudice, Dorian Gray, LOTR, all that. he also comments quite a lot, pretending as if he's having an actual discussion with a one month old baby

Sirius's favourite past time is just holding his baby, or just literally lying there while Leo sleeps on his chest. it's so simple and yet he's so happy about it

Sirius starts to wear his hair in a very secure bun. having a baby pulling your hair is very much not a fun thing

Remus has a pretty unregulated lifestyle anyway so he's mostly up at night, while Sirius loves to get up in the morning so he's in charge of breakfast and entertaining in the mornings

sometimes if it's particularly early and Remus argues he doesn't want to get out of bed yet, Sirius will just put Leo into bed with Remus and they'll just hang out there, it's extremely adorable

Sirius sings french lullabies, and talks in french quite a lot. basically any time Remus isn't around his brain wires back to french and so the baby will absolutely be bilingual at this rate

Remus goes back to work when Leo is around 6 months old - he's a very work oriented person, he'd honestly go insane if he had to stay at home all the time

Sirius is more than happy to rebrand to a stay at home dad

it only results in a handful of disasters a day at first

Remus doesn't need to know ok

Sirius likes to say he's got his shit together emotionally and then Leo says his first word (which is 'dada') and he cries so hard

Remus will have Leo on his lap when grading homework and will, of course, chat with his dutiful assistant quite a lot

"Can you imagine Maddie wrote this? This is the worst paper of hers I've ever read"

"Bwaba"

"Exactly. I'll have to have a word with her on Monday"

James visits them at least twice a week, he can't just not see his favourite nephew less often ok

Leo's first Halloween, Sirius dresses him up as a little ghost

they don't go trick or treating, but they take a lot of pictures. and then when the baby sleeps the adult eat far too much candy and watch horror movies and snuggle

Sirius has always had a Christmas spirit, but when it's Leo's first Christmas it hits So much harder than usual

he decorates the house on the first of december and nearly falls off the ladder several times

his Google history for the month being: "can a 9 month old drink eggnog" "can a baby eat gingerbread cookies" "can i take a baby sledding" and whatnot

despite that the house has too many decorations, Remus really doesn't mind the holiday spirit cause Sirius is truly in his element every December, and now he seems twice as happy as usual

he, of course, puts mistletoe on the doorframe of the kitchen. cause yes they're married with a baby but that doesn't mean they can't make out in the door like teenagers

James puts a hat with antlers on Leo and proceeds to take so many pictures and send them to literally everyone he knows

Lily and Sirius make and decorate gingerbread cookies and this time there's only a few penis shaped ones. they've all grown up yall

Leo gets the most presents, of course

and by the time he's in bed sleeping, and everyone leaves after Christmas dinner, Sirius and Remus curl up by the fireplace and talk about what a good year they've had

and when New Year's comes along, their only resolutions are to try and make their little boy as happy as possible

#every now and again I get overwhelming feelings about parental wolfstar ok #enjoy #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #wolfstar #my tag #headcanon tag #say hi to my baby Leo i love him and would die for him #I could make several posts about him he's my darling baby #Leo Black

225 notes · View notes

pillowfluffs · 3 years

Text

Room Renovations | Hyunwoo, Minhyuk

Pairing: Hyunwoo X Reader (gender neutral) and Minhyuk X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: simple fluff, fun ig

Author’s Note: inspired by me currently redoing my room too tehe

Hyunwoo:

The room was so hot, all your clothes and things were scattered into messy organized piles all over the floor, and you couldn’t move your dressers that were right in the center of the room

Everything was so heavy and you couldn’t move anything on your own but most of all you were so hungry

Your room looked like a complete disaster- specifically the floor and this was only the beginning

You were in the process of clearing out your little apartment so you could return it to the landlord and move in with Hyunwoo

But now clearing it, you didn’t realize you had so much stuff

Your bed was completely covered by your wardrobe from your closet and dressers and you needed to pack them into suitcases but you also needed to get rid of stuff and put things into storage, give stuff away, etc

You actually liked to pack things and such but this was a bit more than you initially thought

It was pretty stressful since it all was a time crunch

But right now you couldn’t think straight or focus on something too much- all you wanted was food in your tummy. The heat didn’t help at all- you just wanted the air conditioning to come back on and for Hyunwoo to return

You currently moved to your book case and grabbed two empty boxes- one for donations and others for keeping

You only had one shelf and a looking at the books, almost half of them were bought on a whim since you thought you would like to read it but you were wrong

You fanned yourself with a small magazine, frustratedly stacking books into both boxes, averting your gaze from everything else in the room

This was how you were whenever you packed your room: you got a little too excited about things and you did this thing where you jumped form one thing to another, not finishing the first thing

It was a bad habit and this time, it proved to be the worst habit you could have while packing your entire room

But not looking at your things could only help so much. It was like a mosquito bite or a thorn in your side, but in this case, there were multiple things of either or

Your clothes still needed to be folded and you were a fraction of the way through but you also needed to clear your desk and sort your supplies into the desk box… however, your bookshelf was one of the few things left untouched and you just had to sort these books right now

Your body felt so drained and tired spending the last couple days packing your entire apartment and your bedroom was one of the worst since you had so much

Birds chirped, bees buzzed, life went on as if nothing was wrong or stressful in life but you were going through the complete opposite and it really sucked right now

“I’m back,” the sound of the most glorious man in your life right now. Hyunwoo. Was. Back

You threw the book in your hand into the donations box and practically sprinted out of the humid bedroom, the socks you wore on your feet made you slip and almost fall as you approached him

“Foooddd!” you exaggerated, raising your voice a little towards the end to emphasize your hunger and little crankiness to which he playfully raised the take out bags up in the air in his hands

“Wooo,” he slipped out of his sneakers, setting the bags onto your kitchen counter

You had boxes stacked on top one another in your living room near the shelves and around the side of the couches with your belongings inside

You wasted no time zipping between the piles of boxes like it was an obstacle course and washed your hands with soap before you reached for plates and utensils

Hyunwoo wore a fitted b lack t-shirt with black joggers. You set yours and his plate on the counter next to the plastic containers containing the pasta and sides of beef and veggies in smaller ones

You danced about behind him, singing along to a random song, your hands tapping and lightly slapping his toned back as he plated yours and his foods

The aroma of the pasta wafted through the kitchen in the area around you two and it made your mouth salivate. Your stomach practically screamed in hunger

You wrapped your hands around his slim waist, peeking around him from behind

“Here you go,” he pushed your plate to the side so you could take and you happily did, letting out a joyous wheeze screech, making his eye smiles appear on his face

After parting his own, he put the covers over the containers and left it there in case you wanted seconds

You plopped yourself on the light brown leather couch in the center of your living room, tapping your utensils as you looked to him, waiting for him to join you

But it didn’t take him long. Hyunwoo was hungry too and you already knew he could most likely devour this entire order by himself

When he sat down, it was when the two of you began eating

Tasting the first mouthful of pasta on your tastebuds was almost enough to bring tears to your eyes. It was either that good or you were just hungry

“Mmm, thank you so much,” you bumped your head to his arm, taking another bite into your mouth

“No problem. How far did you get while I was gone?” He asked, shoveling a mouthful of pasta and stuffing a few pieces of the side order of meat into his mouth

“I don’t even think I made any. I was hungry and hot and it made me annoyed with everything,” you took a bite of a veggie, tasting it. “But you’re here and food is here, so things should be a lot better. I can think now.”

And you were right

The two of you had seconds with little to no leftovers left and got back to work as the sun set outside, the last bits of the day painted beautifully into the early evening sky

Hyunwoo helped you move your dressers into the hall so one of them could be donated and the other could be brought to your parents’ house to be reused

The room opened up but now the main things were the piles on the ground but that was all that was left

You focused yourself and got to folding your clothes as Hyunwoo finished where you left on your bookshelf. He listed out titles for you to tell him whether to keep it or not as you folded and packed your clothes into suitcases

When he finished clearing your bookshelf, he moved your boxed books out to make even more room so it didn’t feel as stuffy

Everything really was better after food and the temperature going down

When those were out of the way, he started your desk for you. Here, he didn’t have to ask you too much so the two of you talked about whatever

You filled your big suitcase and all you had left that would fit into your smaller suitcase. As Hyunwoo cleared your desk and supplies, including your office supplies, you didn’t realize how much stuff you didn’t want until he asked you about it

The trash bag you had for anything in general was filling up fast but things were clearing and the more things were being cleared, the more it felt like the weight was lifting off of you

When your clothes were finally done and folded, Hyunwoo took the suitcases out for you and now the living room was organized with stacks of your boxes

It was a bit after midnight when your room was finally cleared and now all you had left to do was move your boxes, take out the trash of stuff you didn’t want, bring your boxes of donated things to their respectful places and do a clean down before returning your keys to your landlord

But the cleaning day would have to be for another day- most likely the day after tomorrow

When the final box was packed, you had never seen your room so clear

You could feel the small bags forming beneath your eyes as you yawned for the nth time

You stood before Hyunwoo and leaned into him, wrapping your hands around his neck, giving him a tired hug

‘Thank you for everything,” your voice was silky in his ears

He leaned down, bringing his face to your shoulder, kissing your jaw and neck, his hands traveling down the sides of your body

“It’s nothing,” he smiled against your skin, the tips of his ears turning red

Minhyuk:

Upbeat music played from your bluetooth speaker that was connected to Minhyuk’s phone, the song echoing off your high walls

The two of you were currently in your rented room in the house you shared with three other roommates

The house itself was pretty old but it you weren’t surprised since it was one of many other houses that lined the edge of your university campus. You’ve lived here since your first year, renewing your lease every year

It was pretty convenient for you as a uni student since you didn’t have to pay the expensive housing and meal plan feels as part of your tuition but you also didn’t have to waste gas by driving to campus and struggle to find a parking spot while you were at classes

You didn’t have to waste money or struggle to find a spot. Instead, you walked to school to your classes almost everyday but since it was your last year, you didn’t have too many challenging classes since you had almost all your credits

This year was just the final stretch and it was almost over

But before the year ends, you began to pack your room so you could bring them back to your parents’ house to live there in the mean time before the year ended

And since your room was one of the biggest, you also had the most stuff so you didn’t have to go back and forth between your place and your parents’ house for your things

It had only been a few hours since you started and the two of you had only managed to clear your dresser but you still had your closet and desk and bed and decorations

Today was going to be longggg. You could already tell

The biggest challenge you could see was your closet as you scanned your room and Minhyuk spread himself out all over your bed, humming along to the song, occasionally letting his voice shine

But you didn’t mind and no one else did either since one of your roommates was out for their classes for the day, the other was back at home already, and the last one was just out and about

You two had the house completely to yourselves

“Can we order pizza?” Minhyuk asked as you pushed your two remaining jumbo sized suitcases into your little walk in closet

“Yeah, order on my laptop and then get in here,” you called, your voice raised since the room muffled sound. It was pretty cozy and to be quite honest, you knew you were going to miss this space when you were back home

Some nights when all the sounds of traffic or parties were going on, you brought your pillow and blanket to your closet, focusing in there since it was much quieter

You opened your first big suitcase and got to it. You piled your t-shirts and folded sweatshirts and pants from the built in shelves on the wall into your suitcase which filled about a third of it. The rest were all hung in hangers, which you also had boxes for to bring back with you since they were still good

You picked a section and started there, responding to Minhyuk as he called out possible toppings you would want, adding them to the pizza before it would come

It was nice since it would arrive most likely while the two of you cleaned out your closet so it would be a nice little treat

“Do you want a side of fries?” He called out

“Can you get seasoned?” You called out, pausing from your folding

“Yeah,” he responded, his voice quiet. He made the payment putting in his card info and then he joined you inside your closet

He got to work and brought in your speaker that was still playing music, turning the volume down in the small room

Light rain tapped on the little window in your closet but it was nothing you two could hear over the music

He sand along horrifically, getting you to laugh, being a source of entertainment and sunshine on this gloomy day

He folded clothes as he took them off the hanger and left them dangling on the metal rod as you took your time to take them individually off the hanger off the rod, discarding them

But while going through your wardrobe, you noticed a few articles you didn’t even want anymore and articles you never even more. You left and brought back a bag to donate your clothes

This made it somehow more fun to pack everything since you knew not everything in here was going to go into your suitcases and who knows? Maybe clearing out your closet would go by a lot faster than you thought

About an hour passed and the bag was 2/3 of the way full and your current suitcase was roughly the same 2/3 full. The two of you were making good time, getting through halfway through the closet

With the music going loud, it was suddenly interrupted from the call of the pizza deliverer. It was at this time you realized how much worse the storm had gotten, how much darker it was outside, the tree in the front yard swaying harshly in the wind

It was a sight to see and it made you stop where you were mid fold of one of your shirts

The sound of his steps thudded louder as he approached the top, the smell of pizza filling your room as he brought it to the main empty area

You folded your final shirt and went out to join him, the two of you washing hands side by side in the shared bathroom that you no longer had to share with your roommates

The pizza smelled delicious but what really got your mouth watering was the seasoned fries with garlic spice and parmesan cheese

The two of you ate your fill, leaving about three slices left before getting back to work

Instead of listening to music this time, you connected your laptop to the speaker and played a movie the two of you didn’t care about too much, acting as a background sound while the two of you commented about how cheesy the lines were and about how poor the acting skills of the cast were

By the time the movie was about a quarter of the way through, the two of you were able to finish packing your closet in a breeze. You got rid of a lot of old clothes you brought from home, packing the newer ones you had bought

You still had your second suitcase which was perfect cause now you could pack your bedding and save a few more boxes for your desk supplies and decorations

You sat at your desk with a box empty at your side, neatly organizing things into it as Minhyuk climbed a little step ladder you borrowed from downstairs to take down your string lights that were weaved around the wooden support beams

Fortunately, you didn’t have too much/ you didn’t bring too much things for your desk, mostly a couple books and a few textbooks since almost everything was online

He neatly placed your lights into your box as you packed your notebooks, flipping through them, seeing the familiar notes you had to take with your rushed handwriting

The day was going by a bit slow but things were getting done in a non-stressful environment and it was pretty nice

The movie played on your laptop still on your bed

Looking around, it felt weird to see it so empty. You could remember the days you moved in, you and your parents helping you bring up your desk and curtains, helping you set up your room

Now you were seeing it all go away and being cleared. It was like you were creeping toward the end of a chapter you didn’t think would be near so soon

The desk and decorations did not take as long as you thought as possible. You honestly felt like you had a lot more but seeing it all boxed up and in suitcases made it feel like you really didn’t bring that much

The bed was the final thing you two had to do but it was time for a break

There wasn’t too much of a rush since it wasn’t like you two were going to be leaving with all your things as soon as the bedding was packed

The storm was still brewing, it was rush hour so the streets were packed too and no one was here to bother you or anything

There really was no rush at all. The two of you laid in your bed beneath your plush comforters, laid and surrounded by all your fluffy pillows

He placed the laptop on his stomach to watch the movie despite how.. not good it was and you laid beside him, legs tangled with his between the sheets

You rested your head on his chest. One arm around your, his fingers rubbing circles into your arm while the other rested behind his head

At the comfiness all around you, you yawned into him, using your blanket to wipe away the tears that formed in your eyes

“Nap time?” He nudged your arm

“Maybe…” you said a bit more tiredly than you thought you were, your eyes getting heavy

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

41 notes · View notes

slasherbastard · 3 years

Note

Hey! I just found your blog recently, but I want to quickly say that I really love your writing!! You’re so talented and good at eliciting emotions! Your work has inspired me to get back into writing as well and you seem super nice! Keep doing what you’re doing!! ❤️ I’m not sure if matchups are still open, feel free to ignore this if they’re closed! But I hope you’re having a good day today! I’ll put my matchup info below:

I’m a gay trans man and I’m like 5’0” lmaoo I love playing guitar, listening to rock/metal music, and drawing! I’m not sure if it’s relevant but I have Bipolar Disorder and PTSD, and I like collecting bones/dead things hahaha! As for my appearance, I like wearing colorful/weird stuff! Like heart shaped glasses, shirts with weird images/text on them, rainbow socks… I’m kind of a fashion disaster lmao but it makes me happy! I have short, dark, curly hair and tan skin and I kind of have a baby face lol! For personality, I’m mostly quiet, but I get very passionate about certain things, especially the things that I like! I love joking around and being lighthearted! I’m pretty chill, but I’ve been told I’m a little scary when I’m angry hahaha! I’m super physically affectionate and I struggle with separation anxiety with people I really care about! I can be kind of protective too! And uhh yeah! I think that’s it!! I hope this isn’t excessive! Thank you so much in advance! Again, I hope you’re having a good day today! ❤️❤️

First of all I nearly cried reading the note, ahh thank you so much you’re so nice! Sorry this took forever to write-

I pair you with

Chop Top Sawyer!

(gif credit: classichorrorblog)

The two of you are a real team. You’re more laid back and chill while Choptop is loud and crazy, you both go together perfectly. Seriously, even your interests match up nicely. You like collecting bones and dead things? One of the perks of dating a cannibal and living in the middle of rural texas is that there’s bound to be bones just lying around somewhere. Expect Chop Top to bring you human bones from his family’s previous victims, but if you’re not cool with collecting human bones then he’ll take you out to look for animal carcasses. You like jokes? So does Chop! He’s probably really into really bad jokes as well as dad jokes - also a few dirty ones if you’re okay with that.

Chop Top has PTSD too so he understands what it’s like but he doesn’t understand what you’ve specifically gone through. If you’re comfortable speaking about it with him then he’s all ears. He himself doesn’t really like to talk about the war, but he might if he’s feeling a bit vulnerable. He isn’t very educated on bipolar disorder so if you’re ever feeling overwhelmed or having a depressive episode, Chop Top is one of those people who cries when he sees other people cry so if you’re ever upset you may have to end up comforting him, but he’ll also try to get your mind off of those negative thoughts and try to tell you the dumb jokes that you told him that made him nearly fall over laughing. When you’re feeling more hyper he will keep a closer eye on you just to make sure you don’t get yourself hurt - he may be a sadist but he’s also a gentleman, sort of. Also he’s perfectly fine with you being trans! He doesn’t think any less of you and won’t let anyone treat you badly or misgender you . He is very supportive but he will need you to educate him more on the topic.

Chop Top loves your style since it’s close to his but a little move evolved and he will probably take inspiration from you and try to steal your clothes and if none of them fit him he will steal your sunglasses. Also he doesn’t understand half of your shirts but he still thinks they’re funny - you definitely would’ve had to make a lot of them yourself since this is the 70s, and Chop Top would 100% want to match with you. Your wardrobe is full of bright colours and shitposts (do you like those shirts with oddly specific texts on them? Because that’s all I can think about). Imagine Drayton trying to figure out what the hell your shirts mean. “Never underestimate a man who was born in July and plays the guitar and is terrified of their aunt, and does everything they can to avoid her at family gatherings- What in the goddamn hell is that supposed to mean? What’dya mean there’s worse ones?” Think about it, you and Chop Top laughing your asses off as you both show Drayton your shared collection of weird shirts, congratulations - you’ve broken Drayton.

Another thing about this rat is that he craves your affection. He’s a very clingy man and that mixed with your physical affection? Heaven to him. The two of you will just lay in bed cuddling for as long as you possibly can before Chop Top needs to get up and deal with his family. Chop Top definitely hates leaving you alone - probably even more than you hate being away from him - but at the end of the day when you guys are reunited, it’s just endless kissing and cuddling until you fall asleep. On the topic of affection, Chop Top loves nicknames - he also likes it when you call him Bobby.

#slasherbastard matchups #slasher #writing #chop top #chop top sawyer #horror #if you're actually born in july and are terrified of your aunt im sorry i had no idea #i actually was gonna get a shirt made sort of like that ages ago but forgot about it until this moment

18 notes · View notes

kurokrisps · 4 years

Text

Based off of one of your posts. I hope you like it.

Hold up...a concept...Queen Essence's handmaids or fashion designers singing "Upgrade U" by Beyonce when working on a teen Quincy's wardrobe and making him over for dinner with Essence and her parents.

////////////

Essence shifted from foot to foot as she waited by her apartment for Quincy. They have been dating for almost two years. She never realized how serious the two had become until he sang lead for his first song and he asked if he sang well enough now to be her king. Essence had told him he’d have to meet her parents, but he was on the right track. After that, she realized it was time for him to meet her parents and made a reservation for their favorite homey restaurant in their hidden section.

The only thing to take care of was Quincy’s… eccentric outfit choices. Sure he could pull off the loose side tie, and long footless socks, the messy hair was adorable, but that wasn’t going to cut it to meet her parents.

Five minutes before she told him to meet her at her apartment and she saw the walking fashion disaster. He had tightened his tie, slicked his hair back, and changed his socks to bands. Essence knew she made the right choice in having him meet her early.

“I’m not late, am I?” Quincy painted.

“Nope, early as always,” Essence kissed his cheek, “I hope you had a snack first because dinner is in a few hours. We need to take care of something first.”

Quincy smiled and started blushing when Essence led him into her apartment by his tie. The smile fell and eyebrows crinkled together when he saw a group of four girls in her spacious apartment. “I didn’t know you had roommates.”

“They're my handmaidens, they help me get ready for big events and make my clothes. Today, they're helping you,” Essence pushed Quincy into them and they circled around him, picking at his clothes and hair, “ladies, this is my fashion disaster boyfriend, Quincy.”

“I thought you liked my style,” Quincy pouted as one of the girls started measuring him and another took off his tie.

“It’s adorable, but this is the king and queen of funk, your adorable won't cut it,” Essence grabbed the tie that was tossed to her, “besides, why would you think a straight cut tie and slicked back hair would look good?”

“We’ll take good care of him,” the lead waved Essence off to her own bedroom as the girls ushered him into the bathroom to get out whatever gunk he put in his hair. “You should be flattered. Essence seems to really like you. I mean, no boy has lasted a month with her before. She has talked to us about you and it seems the only upgrading that needs to be done is singing and fashion.”

“Which is a far cry from the king if I remember right, Queen Starr had to teach that man some manners,” a second handmaiden chuckled as she turned on the music.

“Let us upgrade you,” The leader smiled and started taking out the braids on half of Quincy’s head, straightening it so the multi colored hair stuck out.

“How you going ta upgrade me,” Quincy took a step back, only to get his head pushed up so one of them could trim his fur.

“Daw, he has an accent when he’s nervous,” they cooed before they started singing and working on his makeover.

“Come harder, This won't be easy, Don't doubt yourself, Trust me, you need me,” the leader tossed the arm bands aside, “This ain't a shoulder with a chip, Or a ego, But what you think they called me for?”

“You need a real woman in your life,” the leader held up some hair clips.

“That's a good look,” the girls chorused back.

“Taking care of home and still fly,” they tackled his eyebrows while another fixed up his growing beard.

“That's a good look.”

“Believe me.” the leader pat his face and they took a step back. They dragged him back into the main room.

“Partner let me upgrade you, Audemars Piguet you, Switching necktie to purple labels,” Essence had left the discarded tie on a chair. The leader waved it in his face before tossing it. They slipped some rings on his fingers and out came the tinsel. It was only a few shimmery neck pieces, nothing terribly fancy, but Quincy took a step back. Only the high class, lead singers, first rate funk trolls wore tinsel and Quincy was hit hard with the realization that he had somehow charmed the princess of funk. He was so out of his league as a third rate backup dancer.

"Upgrade u, I can up, can I up, Let me upgrade u, Partner let me upgrade u," the leader smiled at him, her hand on his shoulder. She nodded before clasping the tinsel bit around his neck. Only a few more tweaks were done as the song continued on.

When the song ended, the handmaidens appreciated their handy work. "Not a bad look for a walking fashion disaster, lets see what Essence has to say about it. "

The leader sauntered to Essence bedroom and knocked. Essence came out, straightening her own silver tinsel and stopped when she saw Quincy.

He still had his beard, Essence was ecstatic they let him keep it, but it had been shaped. His hair was now half dreads and half straight, Essence was already fantasizing running her fingers in it. It took a minute for her to even see the tinsel they put on him, she was too busy mapping his face, "gold nice." Essence went over and kissed Quincy on the lips, "sorry I sicked the wolves on you, but you look great."

"You better be planning on marrying me," Quincy chuckled and nuzzled her, "I'd hate to think this work going to another girl."

"Try not to make a fool of yourself at dinner and you can almost guarantee there will be a wedding in our future," Essence kissed his cheek before walking to the door.

"To each other, right?" Quincy raced to open the door first.

The handmaidens laughed and cooed at him.

"With the effort I've put in you? I won't let another reap my rewards."

-----

Dude this is absolutely AWESOME! KICKIN! JUST SO DANG GOOD!

Thanks for submitting this to me, this is almost exactly how I pictured the scenario in my head! Seriously man, great job!!

#submitted by wxey #submission #trolls #twt #king quincy #queen essence

33 notes · View notes

mithranqueersmusings · 3 years

Text

The Night Before XII

Chapter: 12/15

Rating: U

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

The following day was spent rather unproductively, Ringo hardly moved from his bed and refused to get dressed into anything decent. Paul and John had left early, they could easily tell when Ringo wanted to left alone, but they ensured that at least one of them would be available should Ringo need anything at all. Last night hardly felt tangible, but the grogginess of Ringo's mind and the overhanging sadness made it difficult to forget. He wasn't entirely sure what he felt so bummed out about: was it merely the pain he felt to see George with another man? Or was it the sheer humiliation Ringo had experienced, having to expose his feelings to George in such an unappealing way? Perhaps it was a mixture of both, but he was determined to only let it sully this single day for tomorrow held endless possibilities and he truly believed that the date with George would still go fairly well, even with all this tension now risen to the surface.

Sometimes it was nice to have days like this, comfortably lounging around in pyjamas with no real objectives in mind. Ringo channelled out any lasting aggression he was harbouring by blasting music on his speakers, just about loud enough to stop himself from thinking. He had more than several comfort films to watch, many of which starred his favourite actor Peter Sellers, to make the time fly by without much thought. Throughout the day he conversed sparsely with John and Paul, neither of them addressing the actual events of last night but their concerned tones were enough of an allusion.

He treated himself to some pizza for dinner, settling down in front of his television and letting the hours pass. These days of nothingness were necessary, especially with the amount of excitement he'd been unwillingly plagued with this past week. Part of him debated not even bothering to get into bed, just to gradually pass into unconsciousness on his sofa, but the mature section of his mind - one which was often ignored - convinced him to tuck himself into the covers and let sleep wash over him.

Ringo gladly slept well into the afternoon, the only thing getting him out of bed was his growling stomach. Reaching for his phone he swiped away a variety of meaningless notifications then paused when he noticed a text from George. His mixed feelings were considerably less tangled than they had been previously, but there was still a hint of dread in his stomach when he thought about him.

Look outside your door.

It was sent a couple of hours ago, Ringo worried he'd missed whatever surprise had been waiting for him. He didn't appreciate the cryptic tone, nonetheless he padded over to the front of his flat and cautiously opened the door. Sitting before him was a vase sporting a diverse bouquet of flowers, Ringo wasn't even sure he could name half of them. He looked at it for a while, registering how to fit this in with his torn attitude towards George, and noticed a small card perked upon one of the leaves; he picked it up and inspected it closely.

First of many treats I have planned for tonight. I hope your hangover isn't too bad and you aren't regretting giving me another chance.

Ringo found himself smiling, he must have looked rather odd standing in nothing but his boxers and socks clutching onto this card for longer than he needed to. The thought of one of his neighbours seeing him in this precarious situation spurred him to take the vase inside and shut the door behind him, he inhaled the fresh smell deeply as he brought them into the kitchen to find an adequate placement. He couldn't deny how beautiful they looked, as much as his pessimism wanted to convince him that this was merely a disingenuous ploy. It was difficult to hold onto the resentment, Ringo found himself leaning more towards the attitude that it was merely an extremely unfortunate situation and that George had never intended on hurting him. What use was there in holding onto the past?

Drinking his morning cup of tea, Ringo stared at the flowers before he realised he should probably respond to George's text.

sorry i only just woke up the flowers are gorgeous thank you so much

You're welcome It's the least I can do really There's plenty more where that came from

flowers or surprises??

Both Just you wait

havent got much a choice have i?

I can pick up you around 7 Does that work for you?

it sure does

Ringo debated whether to send another text, he really wanted to clear the air completely but wondered whether it would be better to do it in person. The last thing he wanted was for the whole night to feel like George was having to make it up to him, rather than it being an enjoyable night for the both of them. He understood George's guilt completely, but it would no doubt make him feel rather ridiculous with the forced nature of it all. If only things could just go back to normal, was that too much to ask? He let out a sigh, drafting out a message and staring at it for a while.

i dont want this to come across as harsh or ungrateful or anything but could we leave out any conversation about last night?? i just want to have a good time and not think about that stupid stuff

Impulsively, Ringo sent it without much further thought. He knew it wasn't the most coherent or effective way of getting across his jumbled thought process but the last thing he needed was even more stress seeping into today.

Last night? What happened last night? I was at home didn't step outside for a second

you're right how silly of me must have you confused for someone else

Ringo felt relief washing over him, a grin spreading across his face as he continued to stare at the message from George. Perhaps tonight wouldn't be as stressful as he'd originally anticipated, he'd almost forgotten how at ease George was able to make him feel.

Now arrived the age old dilemma: what on Earth was he meant to wear? He probably should've asked how upscale the place was that George had picked out for them, he didn't want to risk dressing up too much and looking like a fool. Not that Ringo had a great array of formal clothes to choose from, he wasn't one to frequent snobbish establishments if he could help it. He emptied out almost his entire wardrobe, tossing clothes behind him into barely distinguishable piles like he was starring in a teen movie. It took far longer than necessary to narrow down his choices, eventually settling on a navy jumper and some dark trousers. Looking at himself in the mirror he realised there was no way this outfit reflected the amount of time he'd spent choosing it, but the last thing Ringo was about to do was spend more time agonising over something that no doubt didn't matter much at all.

His stomach started rumbling while he waited for George to arrive, he only hoped the food would be appealing. Ringo had a reputation for being a picky eater, not that he could necessarily help it with his endless list of allergies. He found himself worrying that wherever they went Ringo wouldn't be able to eat anything and it would spiral the entire date into disaster. Exactly where this paranoia came from he didn't know, he only hoped it would disappear as soon as he laid eyes on George.

When the long-awaited text finally arrived, Ringo grabbed his jacket and hurried down the stairs. If he didn't eat soon he felt like he was going to pass out, he knew that wasn't truly the case but he couldn't deny that it felt that way. George beamed at him through the glass window, Ringo reciprocated the grin without it feeling even the slightest bit forced. Everything felt normal, thank goodness.

"Don't you look dashing?" George spoke first, a playful tone in his voice.

"Why thank you." Ringo stepped out of the building "I wasn't quite sure what to wear, if I'm being honest."

George was sporting a dark green turtleneck, on top of which he wore a black chequered blazer with trousers to match. It was the most dressed up Ringo had ever seen him, and it was a pleasant sight to say the least.

"Well you look great." George reassured him "Now, I'm absolutely starving so let's get a move on."

They slid into George's car, Ringo felt a little strange to not be the one doing the driving. As they began pulling out onto the main road, Ringo felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Trying to be polite, he decided to ignore it, it was likely only Paul or John wishing him good luck on his date. Neither of them spoke much as they drove, they'd have plenty of time to talk once they got to the restaurant. George hummed to himself rather quietly, Ringo wasn't sure he was even aware he was doing it. After several minutes, George's hand gradually moved away from the steering wheel and onto Ringo's thigh; he never turned to look at him, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. Experimentally he began rubbing his thumb on the fabric of Ringo's trousers, it was a sweet gesture that Ringo appreciated. Ringo gathered the courage to press it one step further, sliding his own hand underneath and interlocking their fingers together. Once again George didn't turn, but a small smile spread on his face. Ringo wasn't sure this was exactly the safest way to drive, but it helped relax his nerves a little.

Not too much time had passed before they'd arrived at their destination, a rather small building with a cosy looking interior. George turned the ignition off but neither of them made any further movements, sat firmly in their seats with their hands still clasped together. The muffled sound of the bustling city outside the car overpowered any potential awkward silence, Ringo was afraid to move lest he ruined the moment.

"You ready to go inside?" George asked, his voice far quieter than necessary, finally turning to face Ringo.

Ringo nodded, hopefully managing to hide his disappointment as George's hand slipped away. They both stepped outside of the car and made their way towards the restaurant, it was pretty packed but fortunately George had booked a table for the both of them. Anxiety began to creep into Ringo's mind as they were guided to their seats, he hadn't been on a proper date like this for so long, he felt like he'd forgotten how to make regular conversation. Yet sitting down across from George made all those worries disappear, all he needed was the smallest amount of eye contact and he felt safe once again.

"You like wine?" George asked, perusing the drinks menu.

"I can't lie, I'm not a fan." Ringo didn't want to risk sounding rude.

"How about a cocktail or something? Just don't look at the prices." George chuckled "Whatever you want, my treat."

"I'd love a Sex on the Beach, if you're offering." Ringo said rather sheepishly.

"Last time I checked Liverpool didn't have any beaches." George feigned a quizzical expression "I think I'll have one too."

The drinks didn't take too long to arrive, Ringo felt relieved to get some alcohol in his body to help him relax. Although he was determined to not get too drunk tonight, it was about time he experienced George's company sober. The atmosphere of the restaurant was nice, rather homely, far less intimidating than the grand vision Ringo had conjured during one of his bouts of paranoia.

Everything just felt right, there was nowhere else he'd rather be or anyone else he'd rather be with. The gleam in George's eyes and the faint smile always barely hidden on his lips let Ringo know that he was feeling the exact same way.

#the beatles #Beatles #beatles fanfiction #beatles fanfic #george harrisonxringo starr #George Harrison/Ringo Starr #george harrisonxreader #ringo starr/george harrison #starrison

3 notes · View notes

etheralisi · 4 years

Text

ρυмρкιη ριε αη∂ αℓℓ тнιηgs ηιcε

Uses references to this fic:<br /> https://archiveofourown.org/works/5832037

And more or less based on this prompt:<br /> http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/160337841310/fluffbird-writing-prompt-s-an-old-and-homely#notes

Alternatively titled ‘Why Gloria Jenkins Should Not Be Allowed Near Candles’, this was the first tau fic I managed to complete back in 2018. It’s undergone a few changes, because ehhh, but I’ll release it into the wild as a short something. It’s doing nothing here, lying around and collecting dust.

𝙰 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙱𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎

~ 𝙹𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝙺𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛

Gloria smiled to herself as she sunk into her chair, her heart as toasty as an open fire, and insides tingling with the lingering feeling of contentment. Sure, the darn thing was falling apart, ragged at the edges and probably worth no more than a penny or two in a garage sale. Stuffing was oozing out that very moment. But it was home , and everything she had left of a life lived, with children running and screaming within these walls. Growing up. Living. Thriving. Leaving the coup to fly free.

But her? The mother hen? She stayed home.

After such a busy day of rooting around her loft for family photo albums, she honestly felt this time to rest her aching bones was well and truly earned, and no, she won’t take any constructive criticism on the matter thank you very much. What was, however, unfortunate to admit aloud and something she’d never in a million years concede to in front of her family was that her bones weren’t as energetic as they had been once upon a time… much alike her dwindling eyesight. Hazy blobs, it all was. Pretty ones, but hazy nonetheless. Her world became an abstract painting the very second her glasses left her face.

The elderly woman groaned, realisation dawning like a sledgehammer to the head, full on smack. She knew something had been missing. Her glasses! The darn things! How could she have possibly forgotten such an important item as those?

Using as much force as she could, Gloria found it in her to haul herself out of the comfort of her chair, even with her body’s initial protest. She stumbled about the house a bit, the grace of a drunkard or woman in need of glasses, searching for the location of wherever she had last left her glasses case. It had been, what? Two moments ago when she saw them? She’d put down the glasses into the case, taken her seat, and fallen into quiet bliss in her chair. Had it been knocked off and fallen under something?

Luck was on her side since her vision wasn’t as bad as it could have been in a few years time, deteriorating as the months wander by, so she managed to make out the basic shapes and colours of her surroundings just fine. No walking into walls for this woman!

Ah. Wait. No. Luck was very much not on her side at all, the case still having failed to show, and Gloria had to result to “making a strategic retreat” as she put it, deeming it inefficient to keep looking for something which would just turn up sooner or later when she wasn’t really looking for it. Thus is the way of life. Shrugging, she made her way back to her sad but lovable excuse for a couch seat, only stopping when she noticed the basket by the front door that she had placed there little under an hour earlier. Her niece, Juliana, had asked if Gloria had any family photos left in her house that she could share with her immediate family, and she had risen to the challenge by diving into her vast loft. And yes, she meant vast . There’s got to be at least two or three sigils on the walls at least to enlarge the interior to twice that of the outside. It was all new technology at the time she bought this house. All the rage.

So. The whole place was a disaster zone. Where all those missing trinkets turn up. Lost some socks? Probably go there, somehow. Good luck finding it in the coming year.

Getting to that album sure took some sweet sweet time. Which is why, on her long perilous journey, family photo albums weren't the only things she had found in her search, the numerous other knick knacks of various interest lying within the basket being an obvious example of this. There had been plenty of things she’d forgotten about, stashed away within the depths of the loft, never to be seen until they resurfaced that very day. Her gaze drifted to the fuzzy, orange sticks lying atop the basket that vaguely looked like fat carrots, if a little waxy if you so chose to chew them. But don’t be fooled by her eyesight, for they weren’t as they seemed.

She was pretty sure those were the candles she’d found hiding in a box labelled “ dangerous ”. Gloria had no idea why they had been labelled as such (maybe a potential fire hazard? Children’s grabby hands and whatnot) and could honestly never remember buying any candles from the Pine River Candle Company in her life. Yet, she knew good quality candles when she saw them, so she had taken them out of their box and added them to her basket to be brought down and used whenever she wanted to make her home smell like fresh pumpkin pie.

Hmm… fresh pumpkin pie, huh? It got her in the mood for a spot of baking. Reminded her of all those years back, the big grin her grandson had always given her whenever a plate stacked with her baked treats was laid out before him.

Alas the boy never really seemed to come visit his ol’ granny anymore, always giving excuses (and oh how he had the audacity to deny them being so — she knew an excuse when she heard one, could sniff one out from a mile away, blindfolded), and barely ever sent her up a Christmas card!

Well, it was his loss. He didn’t want to eat her baking anymore, then fine! She knew others, like the postman, for one, who’d take kindly to being fed.

With that thought in mind, Gloria picked up all six of the candles and made a return back into the living room. She began placing them all around the perimeter of the room, lighting them one by one as she went.

Her chair made protests of its own as she plonked herself back, age being something they both shared in common. Sadly. But she was no feeble woman, and outright refused to fall apart. Nope, not today. Life was good. Great even.

Caught in the moment, she sniffed the now heavily sweet scented air, an aroma that spelled everything she loved more than words could describe. It frolicked, dispersing itself throughout the air, tickling her nose as if it were a feather.

Ah, perfect.

Her eyelids began to shut as exhaustion took ahold of her, which is why it can be excused how she completely missed the way the candles in the room flickered, one by one being replaced with a much more menacing azure flame. Nor did she bear witness to the figure who popped into her living room in a plume of smoke.

What she did not miss, however, was the way said figure grumbled under his breath at the use of scented candles. Just, come on! She may have been old and her sight may have been lacking, but she wasn’t deaf!

Gloria wearily cracked open her left eyelid, before blinking twice to snap herself out of her stupor. The peculiarity of a strange man being in her house was something to pay attention to. And complaining about her candles no less?

Wait…

That brown blob of hair, that voice… could it be?

“Arthur, is that you?” Speak of the devil, had her grandson finally decided to get up off his backside and visit his old lady?

Somehow, though she didn’t know how, the room seemed to become ever more quiet as if trapped within a bubble of silence where not even time dared to flow.

“Uhm…” ‘Arthur’ choked out at last, “ Excuse me? ”

“Aha!” Gloria’s mouth twisted up with glee as she let out a small, victorious laugh which somehow morphed into a gleeful cackle when on the verge of petering out, “I knew it! You couldn’t stay away from my baking forever!”

“Your- nevermind .” He took a deep breath just before he continued, his words strained. “Look, Gloria, I’m not Arthur. I’m Alcor and I-.”

“Alcor huh?” She hummed in thought, not noticing how ‘Arthur’ harrumphed at her interruption. “Sounds pretty dumb. Why’d you change it?”

“And...” Gloria squinted, continuing. “What’s with the wardrobe change? Have you gone gothic, Arthur? That’s a lot of black you’re wearing.”

‘Arthur’ didn’t take too kindly to her plethora of questions, already shuffling backwards from her chair. “... Look, this seems like it was some mistake. I’m just going to go..”

With a speed so fast that she might have even broken the sound barrier, Gloria was out of her chair and had her hand firmly grasped around his arm, “You’re not going anywhere young man! Don’t you dare stop by for two minutes and then leave! You’re coming with me to the kitchen and we’re going to do some baking together just like we used to.”

She noticed him start to speak, though she cut him off before he could even so much as squeak a word out.

“Now off you trot, to the kitchen!” She released her hand from his arm and began pushing him through to said destination. “This rocky road cake isn’t going to bake itself.”

‘Arthur’ seemed to perk up at the mention of ‘rocky road’ and Gloria couldn't help but snicker at his sweet tooth. Some things never seemed to change.

“Ro͜cky̶ ͟ro͘àd͏?” He asked with an odd layer of reverb, getting Gloria to begin questioning if hearing was going a little off after all.

“Yes.” She sighed, already shovelling him into the kitchen and dismissing the reverb. “Now make yourself useful and turn on the oven.”

Alcor’s gold on black eyes numbly trailed after the woman’s figure as she left, leaving him alone in some random kitchen and wondering what the actual heck just happened?

#Transcendence au #Bread fic

17 notes · View notes

makeitcanoncowards · 4 years

Text

Gwaine x Reader

50 Shades of Gwaine: Christmas Winter Special!

A/N: Hey guys! I meant to post this on Christmas, but obviously that didn’t happen. This isn’t a new part, but it is a oneshot/imagine in the same universe as my 50 Shades of Gwaine series. Obviously, there’s only 2 parts (or 3 depending on when I post this) so far, so this takes place after their relationship has developed slightly more and is very fluffy! Happy reading and happy new year!

50 shades of Gwaine Masterlist | Part One | Part Two

Words:1,474

Warnings: None

*Gif doesn’t belong to me*

It was the first snow of the season; the entire castle had been blanketed in a layer of white. It was your first time ever seeing snow in a city, and you found yourself in complete awe of the way the colors of the market still stood vibrant against your pale surroundings. One color, however, that continuously caught your eye was the striking red of a certain knight’s cloak.

You watched from the window of your room as the knights sparred in the designated training grounds (which you had luckily been given a perfect view of). With a dreamy sigh, you laid your chin in your palm and observed the way that none of them could take themselves seriously with the snow laying beneath their feet. Such an environment turned even the strongest of men into children, if only for a few hours.

“Merlin!” King Arthur screeched as melting snow dripped from his nose. Apparently, Sir Gwaine had started a snowball fight, and luckily ducked before his enemy – Merlin – could retaliate. You watched with glee as each and every knight was dragged into his antics, and couldn’t help but feel a warmth rise in your cheeks, despite the cold air, when Gwaine happened to look up and lock eyes with you from your station at the window.

He waved up at you as a smirk found its way upon his face, as it did so often whenever he saw you, and you pretended to only just notice him standing below you. Even though your window was open, and you had obviously been staring. Who’s to say you weren’t just lost in thought and happened to be staring at the man of your dreams.

“A maiden, trapped in a tower?” He called up to you, “This seems like a job for a dashingly handsome knight, I shall rescue you, m’lady!”

You scoffed as you peeked down at him, bouncing on the balls of his feet with his hands tucked behind his back like an overexcited child. You couldn’t help but tease him a little, if only for the sake of humility, “A brave and handsome knight you would say?”

“All that and more, only the best for you, my dear fair maiden!”

“Then be a doll, Sir Gwaine,” You smiled down at him as he began to walk towards the side door that leads into the castle kitchen, “And fetch Sir Percival for me.”

Your quip made him stop in his tracks and the rest of the men, who had turned to watch your exchange as you had both been yelling, fell into fits of laughter. Percival dropped into an overexaggerated bow and beamed up at you.

“Anything for a fair maiden!” He called out and quickly brushed past Gwaine before he could react. You watched as he slipped through the door mentioned before and looked back at your admirer. Gwaine simply stared up at you, the shocked expression adorning his face making him look like a gaping fish.

He looked as though he wanted to say something but was cut off by King Arthur, “Gwaine why don’t we let y/n alone and we continue our training before it snows again.” Gwaine nodded, still staring at you, and followed after the king. Suddenly, he was taking training very seriously and even began to show off a bit. You chuckled to yourself until you heard a knock at your door.

“Lady y/n,” Percival’s voice rang clear despite the thick wood that separated the two of you, “Would you like an escort to the training grounds?”

You opened your door and began to grab the dark purple cloak from your wardrobe, “I would just love an escort. Thank you, Sir Percival.”

“It is my pleasure, m’lady,” He smiled down at you as you took his arm. As many times as you’ve seen and interacted with Percival, you would never get used to his height compared to yours. It was comical, especially since he had quite a few inches on even the tallest of knights.

The two of you spent the walk towards the rest of the knights chatting about his most recent adventure while you added your own quips every now and then. You had grown to be fairly good friends with the knights considering how often you had to spend afternoons staring at them for their portraits. You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it either, they were all quite handsome.

“ – And that’s when Gwaine lit his socks on fire. He says it was an accident but I doubt anyone could be that clumsy,” Percival and you laughed before he sobered and continued, “Truly, I think he realized it was a bad day and we could all use a laugh. He’s a good man like that.”

You shook your head lightly, a sweet smile breaking out across your face, “He is a good man.” You repeated.

Percival gave you a knowing side glance, but you elected to ignore it as you had finally made to that side door that would allow you to see Sir Gwaine again. Despite appearing to be a confident, sarcastic tease to him, he could capture your heart with one look and you always needed to prepare yourself before you saw him. That way you wouldn’t give into his charmer ways.

Percival began to pull on the handle until you reached out, grasping his wrist, “Just give me a second.” You whispered. He gave you a short nod and waited as you hurriedly tried to smooth your hair, despite it looking the same as it always does, and adjust your dress so it wasn’t askew. Watching you fix your imaginary imperfections made Percival chuckle, knowing that Gwaine was just as crazy for you as you were for him. If anyone had seen this part of you, they’d not question your fondness for your knight.

“Ready?” He asked as you had tucked the same strand of hair behind your ear for the twentieth time. You looked up at him, radiating with nervousness and appreciation:

“Yes, thank you.” You grinned, trying to digest the butterflies in your stomach.

Percival wasted no time yanking the door open; a blast of cold air hit you in the face and you suppressed a shiver against the temperature change. Unintentionally, this caused you to lean into Percival more to shield you from the winter chill.

It was a completely innocent action, but upon seeing the two of you, Gwaine had a deep frown set on his face. He couldn’t help but hate how close you were to one of his best friends. The jealously burned in his stomach and he thrashed his sword against a wooden beam, used as a sparring dummy, as hard as he could.

Letting himself get caught up in his own world, he was unaware of his surroundings and surprised when he was knocked on his rear by a cold force hitting him in the face.

Shocked, he looked over his shoulder, snow muffling the sound of your voice, as you ran towards him.

“I am so sorry!” you picked up your skirts and ran towards the man you had just taken out with a rogue snowball. “I was aiming for your shoulder I swear!”

He looked up at you, snow sticking to his eyelashes and matting up his hair, and you couldn’t help but think about how beautiful he was. “It’s alright,” He grunted, trying to get the cold snow – now water – out of his ear and out of his collar.

You knelt down next to him and began to pull ice out of his dark brown locks, “Are you alright? It hit you square in the face.”

“I noticed,” Gwaine laughed at your observation, “You may not have been aiming, but you’ve got a strong arm.”

You gazed down at him, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you brushed more melting snow off him. Instinctively, he leaned into your touch and your face burned at the show of affection.

“You’re alright?” You repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I am doing wonderfully,” He sighed as your hand cupped his cheek.

“Alright you two,” Merlin called cheerfully, “Gwaine I have to clean that armor and if you get it rusty in the snow, I will have to kill you.”

You giggled and helped him up, enjoying an afternoon playing in the snow and enjoying each other’s company.

**Taglist**

@sapphireeyedmythologist @charlottie2998

@rebloggerblogging @bluegreyme

@sapphireeyedmythologist @an--actual--human--disaster

@lilithsweetghost @fk12b @katiebug0603

#gwaine merlin #gwaine #gwaine x reader #percival #bbcmerlin #gwaine bbcmerlin #Merlin fanfiction #merlin x reader #merlin #king arthur #arthur x reader #Arthur Pendragon #bbc merlin x reader

90 notes · View notes

lalainajanes · 5 years

Text

As One Wishes To Live (AKA Genie!Klaus). Read Part One here!

His new mistress – Caroline - had excused herself. Klaus hasn’t yet relaxed.

It’s a survival instinct.

Only two of his keepers had been awful from their first meeting. The rest feigned kindness only to grow into their cruelty once they realized just how much power they wield.

He expects Caroline will be the same. Oh, she seems sweet. Earnest. Stubborn too, enough to hold on to her principles for awhile. She’ll bend, like they all do. First, it’ll be little things, simple requests to save her time and effort. A “Klaus, could you mend this?’ followed by a please and a thank you.

The requests never stay simple.

He’ll look for what weaknesses while he still has the freedom to.

He cannot hurt the one he belongs to, but he’s learned that rule is bendable. He can manipulate an owner into hurting themselves. He can do it with words, a hint here, an innocent observation there. Occasionally, the universe provides a lovely set of coincidences that Klaus merely can neatly steer a captor into. He’d once orchestrated a nasty carriage accident by keeping a whiskey glass full and producing a few coins to entice a barmaid into distracting a stable boy. Poor lad had rushed through his tasks, hadn’t noticed the wheel in desperate need of repair.

He’ll explore Caroline’s home over the next few days. Just in case. As long as he’s been locked in his lamp, all the objects he can’t name. It’s only logical that he be curious.

Caroline’s fairly young and obviously baffled by his presence in her home. She doesn’t seem stupid, which is a pity. The unintelligent are more demanding than the cunning but easier to manipulate. She’d been flustered as she’d departed, her cheeks stained a bright pink. She’d promised she’d be right back, after she found him some clothes.

Klaus could have told her that if she wanted him clothed, he could conjure whatever she fancied. He’d served those who liked him to remain bare and accessible but most liked to dress him up. Some in clothing that marked him as a servant, others in finery that made him look like a prize. Klaus has long since stopped caring about what does, or doesn’t, cover his body.

He’d let her babble and flee. He’d wanted privacy to study his new home and he’d sensed Caroline had needed to collect herself. He could have denied her that, pressed his advantage, perhaps dropped the covering she’d insisted he don.

She’d fought it, kept her eyes on his, but she clearly finds his body appealing.

He may have to use that but, for now, she hasn’t truly earned his ire.

Once she’d left Klaus had held still and listened carefully as she’d made her way up a single set of stairs. She’s rummaging now, still talking to herself. Exceptional senses are one of the perks of his curse. To cater to a master’s every whim he needs to hear calls when they are mere whispers.

Caroline’s home seems quite small and Klaus imagines he’ll be able to track Caroline’s movements easily. It’s nice enough, very clean and warm. There are an alarming number of objects that Klaus has never seen before, odd hums and beeps that he’s trying to ignore.

Much has changed in the ninety or so years he’d been dormant.

The chair she’d bid him to sit in had been plush and the fabric hadn’t scratched at his skin at all. A relief because he’s always more sensitive when he’s been stuck in his lamp, his skin feels thin and new each time he emerges.

Klaus eyes the window, squinting against the sun that’s streaming in. His head aches a bit. He takes a few steps, glancing behind him even as he reaches for the curtain.

Caroline had wanted him to be comfortable, hadn’t she? Shutting out the light will help.

If she complains, well, that will be a clue that perhaps she’s not as generous as she’s seemed.

Caroline’s got a stack of various pieces of men’s clothing – things stolen from exes or friends, even a random leather jacket that a disaster of a one-night stand had left behind. She knows exactly where the pile is, but she spends a solid ten minutes pushing things around in her closet, tidying and refolding to keep her hands busy while her mind whirls.

It’s useless because she’s not going to solve the issue of the genie she now apparently owns with a little stress cleaning.

It makes her feel better. Calmer.

Sort of.

When her hands have stopped shaking (and she’s done enough deep breathing that her face should be a normal color) she crouches and yanks out the plastic tote she needs. It’s been awhile since she’s had to add anything to it. Her extended period of singledom is the main reason Kat had so thoughtfully gifted Caroline the lamp (and Klaus, technically) but she’s reasonably sure she’ll find something that will fit her guest.

Whether he’ll like the clothes she’ll provide Caroline can’t guess. He’s been impressively inscrutable so far, not that Caroline can blame him.

It sounds like he’s known a lot of terrible people. The kind that won’t hesitate to pounce on a weakness and use it for their own gain.

She figures comfort is the way to go, digs a pair of grey sweats that had been Tyler’s from the very bottom of the tote. Klaus might be a bit taller but he’s leaner so hopefully that will make up the difference. She grabs one of Stefan’s t-shirts that she hadn’t bothered to return (since he had about eight million, all identical and black) plus a blue hoodie Enzo has given up asking her to return.

She throws it all over her shoulder then snags a pair of the socks she uses for working out from her dresser. She makes a quick detour to the kitchen to grab her laptop and her phone off the charger before she returns to find Klaus where she’d left him. He’s pulled the curtains and he’s wandered over to the wall of shelves where she keeps her books and DVDs. He’s looking at one of the framed photographs that she’s got up, an old one.

“That’s the last family photo we took,” Caroline tells him. “I really hated that dress.” Black velvet, enormous lace collar. It had been a gift from Granny Forbes and Caroline had worn it exactly twice.

Klaus gently sets the frame back down turning to face her. His expression is just as smooth as it had been when he’d first greeted her, giving away nothing of his feelings. His eyes are on her though, not the floor. He’s sizing her up and Caroline can’t say she blames him.

She smiles, hopes he can’t tell that ten minutes away wasn’t nearly enough time for Caroline to stop freaking out internally.

None of the giant pile of what the fuckery they’re currently dealing with is Klaus’ fault. She doesn’t want him to feel like he’s unwelcome. It’s just good manners.

She sets her laptop down then holds out the clothing, “I dug these up for you. I know they’re not ideal but once your dressed we’ll look online and get you something a little more your style.”

“My style,” he repeats slowly.

“Yeah. I mean, if you’re a label snob like my friend Kat you’re going to need to embrace knock offs because my credit card can only take so much.”

He appears a bit mystified and Caroline wants to slap herself. “Oh, wait, sorry. How long have you been in…” she waves her hand towards the coffee table, his gold lamp. It’s entirely possible Klaus doesn’t know about the internet. Or even credit cards. Caroline has no idea when they became a thing.

His eyes follow her gesture and he takes a step back, so he’s nearly pressed against the bookcase.

She looks away, pretends not to notice. She studies the lamp, realizing that she’s only managed to polish a quarter sized spot on one side. That’s totally going to bother her.

Klaus doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t move much either. Caroline’s about to remind him that he doesn’t have to when he reaches for the bundle she holds. He pinches the fabric between his fingertips, tugging experimentally. “I can’t tell you exactly. It was… 1926, maybe. When my last mistress died. She called for me infrequently in the end. Her daughter thought to own me next. She was not happy to learn I cannot be inherited.”

“Is that the one who made her final wish on her death bed?”

“Yes.”

She’s really trying not to pry – he hasn’t had the chance to set his own boundaries for a freaking millennium so obviously she needs to reel in her curiosity – but it’s hard. What had the woman wished for? Could she have wished to not die? Can Klaus make people immortal? Would…

“Revenge,” Klaus murmurs, interrupting Caroline’s train of thought. “She had three daughters and her husband divorced her to get his male heir. He lied to get it, painted her as the adulterer then left her with barely enough money to live on. She wished that he would live to know his name would die with his son.”

That’s… wow.” Caroline’s a little impressed with the spite level. “Was she… good to you?”

“Better than most.”

With the switch back to vague answers, Caroline decides it’s best to change the subject. “Well, there’s going to be a lot of things we need to get you up to speed on. We’ll start with the practical.” She sits down, taps the top of her laptop. “This is a computer; it connects to the internet. The internet does a lot of things, some of them great, some of them super creepy. But it will allow us to get you a 21st century wardrobe delivered before the weekend.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She shakes her head, tucking her legs underneath her as she boots up her laptop. “Look, I’m not going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to but I’m pretty sure eventually you’re going to get bored enough to want to go outside. And if you do it like that…” she wiggles her fingers in his direction, carefully not looking directly at the subtle ridge of muscle at his hips, “…questions will be asked. Cops might be called. We can’t rixk that until we’ve got a solid backstory and some supporting documents.”

She types “Casual Men’s Clothes” into google, figuring she’ll let him browse the images to see what he likes. Klaus clears his throat but it’s a theatrical kind of noise, an ‘ahem’ sound that’s never an accident.

Caroline holds in a sigh and looks up, mentally preparing herself to ignore all the distractingly bare skin, only to have her mouth drop open for an entirely different reason. Klaus is holding the clothes she’d given him but, on his body, he’s wearing something very similar. He’s switched up the colors – black sweats, dark red tee, grey hoodie – and everything fits like it was made for him.

Well. That’s handy.

“Oh,” she says dumbly. “You…”

“Am perfectly capable of clothing myself without assistance, yes.”

He’s smug about it and Caroline should find it annoying but, as it’s the first real hint of personality he’s shown, she’ll let it slide. “You weren’t kidding about the magic, huh?”

He grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Are you a believer now, love?”

The dimples are just as distracting as the hipbones, damn it.

Caroline focuses back on her laptop, tapping a few keys for no real reason. It’s not like he’ll know she’s typing nonsense. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

Klaus hums in acknowledgement, “Is this what men wear nowadays? I’ll admit it’s very comfortable.”

When she glances up she finds he’s adjusting the sleeves of the hoodie, pushing them up his forearms. “It’s a super casual example but yeah, you won’t get arrested if you walk outside like that. You’d get some looks if you tried to walk into a nice restaurant though.”

“I see. Can you show me?” he points at her laptop. “For when we venture out.”

“Sure. Internet window shopping is one of my very favorite things. Come sit.”

Caroline tips her head to the side and this time Klaus doesn’t need to be prompted further, settling down next to her. He jumps a little when she sets her computer on his lap and Caroline figures he hadn’t anticipated it would be warm. She points to the screen, “What do you like?”

He blinks at the twenty or so images for a long moment. He then leans closer. Caroline reaches over runs her finger over the trackpad. “Here, see that little white hand? If you want to see something close up just tap. Like this.”

He’s a quick study, his fingertip bumping into hers as he tries it for himself. She shows him how to scroll down and he mutters about how many choices there are. He glances at her every once in awhile, but Caroline makes it a point not to react.

Even if she had been paying for the clothes she wouldn’t have wanted to pick for him. Earlier, one oh his comments had made her feel a little sick to her stomach. His body, he’d said, so casually, was at her disposal. Caroline’s not naïve enough to think that had only meant he’d been treated like a life size Ken doll but she’s certain he’d been dressed up according to the whims of others for the bulk of his existence.

That’s over, Caroline’s decided. If he wants to wear cargo shorts and lumberjack flannel for the rest of his life that’s totally his call.

She touches his arm to get his attention. Klaus tenses, his body locking up so tightly that she can feel in even though a few inches of space separate them. She withdraws gingerly, easing over to give him more space.

She’s kind of a toucher. She’ll have to remember to curb the instinct with Klaus.

“I’ll just be in the kitchen, okay? I’ll order dinner.” And send a couple texts, plus an email to her boss. She’s so going to need a couple days to get acclimated but Klaus doesn’t need to know the details. “Come get me if you need anything.”

It’s a useless offer because Klaus won’t ask for a single thing. He doesn’t trust her even a little bit.

Convincing him that he can won’t be easy. Good thing Caroline’s always liked a challenge.

Klaus had risen as soon as he’d heard Caroline stir. He hadn’t rested well.

The bed Caroline had offered him is very comfortable. Too comfortable.

He’d tossed and turned, tried both sides. He’d quickly given up on sleeping, had risen once he’d heard Caroline’s breathing deepen enough to indicate that she wouldn’t wake easily. He’s slipped out of the room and downstairs, paced the rooms and the halls, going over all that he’s learned to far.

Last night Caroline had chattered away while she’d changed the sheets for him, told him that her mother was the one who most often stayed in the room but that it always took a great deal of cajoling for Caroline to convince her to visit. She’d grabbed him a toothbrush and towels. Had pointed out that red on the taps meant hot water and then asked if he had any questions about the shower. He’d just managed to avoid rolling his eyes because he has seen one before. Caroline had sensed his annoyance and cheerfully confessed that she’d done a quick bout of research on the history of indoor plumbing while they’d sat together after dinner but that she’d just wanted to make sure. She’d said that a hot shower always made her feel better after a rough day.

Klaus had thought about that statement once she’d left him alone. He wouldn’t have classified his day as rough, exactly. Bewildering perhaps, but the first day with a new master always is. He’s yet to sense any sort of sinister intent under Caroline’s solicitousness so either she’s a fantastically skilled actress or she’s genuine in her disgust for the curse he lives with.

The shower had been fantastic though.

He’s waiting in the kitchen when Caroline wanders in. Her hair’s half up and half down and she’s wrapped in a pink robe that’s far too large for her. She’s rather lovely, sleep mussed and stumbling. She gives him a little wave, “Morning. I need coffee.”

She yelps when the cup appears in her hand, drops it immediately. The glass shatters against the tile floor, hot coffee splattering her bare legs.

“Ow, ow, hot!”

Klaus is at her side in a blink, stilling her when she makes to step back. “You’ll cut yourself,” he scolds and then concentrates, clearing the mess away just as quickly as he’d created it.

Her eyes are wide, fully awake now as she pulls away. Klaus bends so he can sweep his hands over the reddened skin on her shins and ankles, taking away the mild burn. “What the hell was that?” she exclaims, her arms flapping wildly.

“You needed coffee.” He’s not going to explain the rest. Caroline’s sharp enough to make the necessary connections.

Her fingers twist the ends of the belt that wraps around her waist. Her outrage quiets slightly, “And if I need something you have to get it for me?”

Klaus conjures another cup, this time a sturdier vessel. He offers it instead of answering. Caroline glares, refusing to take it. “It’s just an expression! I don’t need coffee I just want it. And I am perfectly capable of making my own.”

He’s not about to confess that his curse means he must fulfill her wants too. Caroline had claimed decent people existed but no one – mortal or immortal - is immune to temptation. To know that every whim can be satisfied? Awfully enticing.

She spins away from him, stomping across the kitchen. She yanks a slim canister out of a cupboard, tucking it under her arm when she looks over at him, “Just so we’re clear, if I say ‘I need’ followed by a thing you’ll just poof it into my hands?”

Klaus nods in confirmation. He has no desire to explain that if he doesn’t provide for her he’ll feel a small twinge. That the twinge will grow into aches and stabs and bone grinding, suffocating pressure. That it will build and build and build until he gives in. Or until he collapses and then gives in.

It’s been a long time since he’s fought a master’s will but he’d done it often in the beginning, before he’d realized that open rebellion is pointless. The pain isn’t something he’ll ever forget.

Caroline’s got her back to him, her hands busy, and she’s quiet. Contemplative, he’ll say, because her eyes keep flitting his way. “I think we’re going to need to set some ground rules.”

Ah. Finally, something familiar.

How disappointing.

He doesn’t move, is sure his expression remains carefully pleasant. Caroline, somehow, manages to sense the downturn in his mood. She sighs, shoving the cup he’d made across the table towards him as she sits down. “Not like that,” she insists. “We’re not even going to call them rules. We need to agree on a few things.”

Klaus stays silent, wary. The worst people often had a gift for spinning pretty words to cover their worst actions.

“You do have a say, here. I wished that, remember?”

She’s wished for his honesty, his true thoughts and feelings. Klaus isn’t yet sure if she deserves them.

Drink…” her teeth come together with a snap and she shakes her head. “Sorry, I think I almost did it again. If you happen to like coffee, please feel free to drink the one you made.” Her brow wrinkles in concentration, her mouth moving and forming the same words she’d just spoken. She nods briskly, satisfied. “Was that okay? Didn’t trigger any bad genie mojo?”

He can risk a taste of honesty. To test her.

Klaus grasps the mug, lifts it to his lips. He sniffs experimentally, “I don’t remember if I like it or not.” He’d drunk it often centuries ago. He’d lived in Hamburg with a scientist who feared failure more than he desired rest. Klaus had spent hours upon hours transcribing notes, drinking coffee when prompted because his master, like most scientific types of the time, had thought magic preposterous. He hadn’t understood that Klaus didn’t need to fight sleep with stimulants.

She watches him, a pleased smile curling her lips. “Good?” she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested.

“I think so,” Klaus replies. He tries another mouthful.

It tastes better than he remembers but perhaps that’s because each sip is a choice.

Caroline panics when she hears keys in the door. She's been taking advantage of the pile of banked sick days she has, to deal with the whole genie situation. She'd sent her boss an email with a sob story about a killer bout of stomach flu. She's never done it before, feels a little bad about lying, but her excuse hasn’t been questioned.

One of the perks of being a kickass employee.

The truth would have gotten her locked up on a twenty-four-hour psych hold, and Caroline does not want to deal with that. Even if Klaus could probably break her out with his freaky magic stuff.

She’s sprawled out on the floor, catching up on her YouTube subscriptions. Klaus is on the couch – so far he’s yet to let his posture be less than flawless in her presence – reading a book. He’s not a fan of the television but he’s yet to object to having music on.

She shoves herself up onto her knees when she hears the door open, her eyes sweeping the room for anything that might invite questions. There’s nothing, thank god.

"Care?" Bonnie calls, "are you okay? I brought crackers and Gatorade!"

Ugh. She hadn't counted on her friends, and their keys to her place, screwing with her plans.

"Hide!" she hisses at Klaus. His eyes widen, face going blank. He nods once, harsh and jerky, before he immediately does his wispy smoky thing, dissipating before her eyes (and seriously, that’s never not going to be weird) leaving his lamp rattling.

She feels a stab of guilt, because she'd meant for him to go upstairs, having picked up on the revulsion and wariness he seemed to feel for the little metal vessel that had been his home and prison. It still sits on her coffee table; he makes a point not to touch it. She'd been asking questions for the last few days, carefully teasing out his story.

Sometimes Klaus grows cold, his answers becoming monosyllabic. He's never refused to answer her inquiries, but she’s quick to change the subject when his words become slow and reluctant. She’s told him he doesn’t have to do anything; she suspects he doesn’t believe her. That he’s waiting for her to flip and start making demands.

Once she’d worked out that he was forced to follow her orders she’d asked what happened if he didn’t. He'd gone stiff when he'd imparted that knowledge, the words clipped as he refused to meet her eyes. She imagines he's tested the limits of the magic that traps him thoroughly, as stubborn and prideful as he seems to be. That whatever the punishment doled out is unbearable if he dreads it so deeply.

She’s vowed he’ll never hurt that way again but pain isn’t always physical.

She’ll have an apology to make.

Thinking quickly Caroline ruffles her hair, wraps herself in her afghan and slumps down on the couch. She tries to look miserable and queasy, planning on getting Bonnie to leave as soon as possible.

She's under no illusions that her friends won't have to meet Klaus eventually. She's just planning on easing them into it. Maybe mention that she's looking for a roommate, interview a couple candidates for show.

It'll give her time to make up a reasonable background story. Plus, Caroline needs a little more time for Klaus to get acclimated to the world, so he won't make her friends suspicious. So far things from the twenty-first century are hit and miss. He'd turned his nose up at the coffee she made, has continued to conjure his own. Caroline has to admit his is way better then what he machine drips out. Klaus does seem to like the internet. After he’d thoroughly investigated men’s clothing she’d taught him how to google things and he seems to enjoy that he can find information for himself instead of having to pester her when he there’s something he doesn’t understand.

She's going to need to prepare Klaus for Kat. She’s sure he can hold his own, has seen steel nerves and an implacable will under the deference he’s trained himself to exude, but she can't help feeling protective. Caroline has seen Kat cheerfully crush weak men under her stilettos, with merely biting words and a toss of her hair, not exerting the slightest effort. Kat will actually try if she thinks she's vetting a potential roommate of Caroline's.

The least she can do is spare Klaus the worst of that. Since she'd unwittingly made herself his mistress.

Yep, that’s still creepy. And a tiny bit hot in a way that makes Caroline want to fidget in shame.

She makes a show of struggling to sit up as Bonnie approaches, really makes it seem like it’s an effort to lift her head.

Apparently she’s pretty good at the fake sick thing, something that might have been useful back in high school. Bonnie doesn’t stay long, insists Caroline rest as she goes. Part of that might be how distracted she is, her mind too focused on Klaus. She's not even sure how she can get him out of the lamp, knows she’ll have to coax and grovel, that she can’t demand.

She'd read the little flash of betrayal in his eyes clearly, even though he'd masked it expertly. She doesn't want to see it again.

Klaus has no form inside his lamp.

Caroline had shown him a few episodes of a silly television show. He’d found it offensive, had glowered through parts of it – did humans really think such incompetence would be allowed? Klaus is quite sure the magic that punished him for disobedience would have torn the tiny blonde woman apart for her antics. Afterwards he’d admitted that he could understand Caroline’s initial reactions to his presence. He wonders if she thinks his lamp is like the television genie’s, bright and comfortable and strewn with cushions.

In truth, there’s nothing inside. He’s nothing inside. He’s only thoughts and emotions. His senses leave him, except for his hearing, and it’s dark. The longer he spends inside the harder it is to keep from drifting. Only the call of his owner can pull him back.

Inside, he’s not aware of time passing. He’s completely subject to another’s whims and he hates it.

He can hear Caroline, one of her friends outside. He listens eagerly, clings to the knowledge that if they’re talking he’s losing only minutes, not years.

The friend seems concerned. He learns that Caroline’s been faking an illness. Had she not trusted him enough to leave him to his own devices in her home?

Had she not known that she could banish him, as she’d just done?

Caroline whispers his name. He can’t tune her out.

If he’s honest he doesn’t want to. He’d preferred his cruelest master to the nothingness of his lamp and even if Caroline’s a liar he doubts she’ll take that title.

“I don’t know if you can hear me.”

She must touch the lamp because he gets a brief impression of warmth.

Too brief.

“I’m sorry.”

No one’s thought him worthy of an apology since he’d been human. Even then they’d been rare.

He listens to her breathing, quick and anxious. “I didn’t mean to make you go away. I’ve been trying so hard to choose my words carefully. And trust me, I suck at that. I just panicked.”

He thinks of how she’d looked in the moment she’d told him to hide. Her eyes had been round, her body tense. Usually graceful she’s moved in fits and starts.

Perhaps she’s not a liar.

“I haven’t told my friends about you because… well, they’d think I’d gone nuts. Elena would tell her mom and her mom would call my mom and the whole town would be whispering about me within the week. People from high school I don’t even like would start sending me faux concerned messages on Facebook hoping for more dirt.”

She pauses.

Klaus hopes she hasn’t gone.

Only because he hates the lamp, of course. The lack of awareness, the inability to exert even the smallest bit of his will. Having to depend on another to tether him. Never knowing when, even if, they’d release him.

“I meant hide literally. Like, hide upstairs in your room or even in the laundry room. Just out of sight. Not out of the house. Well, I guess you’re still in the house. Which I’m really glad about, by the way. Even though I know you’re pissed at me. Which is totally okay.”

He hears her groan and then her next words are muffled. “God, I sound like a moron.”

“I get it if you don’t want to talk to me. And if you come out you don’t have to talk to me. I can go out for awhile if you really want some you time. And you don’t have to come out. But, if you want to… Well, I’d appreciate it.”

Klaus concentrates, presses against the boundaries of the lamp. Leaving always burns a little but the relief of having a physical body again is greater than the discomfort. He rolls his shoulders once he’s upright and solid, waiting for Caroline to notice him. She’s got her eyes closed, her head in her hands.

His fingers twitch.

He cannot remember the last time he’d felt the desire to touch another person but Caroline tempts him.

Klaus reaches out, looping one of her blonde curls around his index finger. She gasps when he tugs, her hand grabbing at his. She’s quick to stutter an apology, to pull away.

This time Klaus chooses not to let her. He wraps her hand around her wrist, tugs until she stands. “Thank you,” he says. “For apologizing.”

Her throat moves, a nervous swallow that he easily hears. She seems to be having trouble looking at him, her blue eyes flitting away, landing on the lamp. “What if… can you destroy it?”

Oh, how he’s tried. Klaus shakes his head, “No, I can’t. It’s immune to my powers.”

Caroline’s eyes narrow, her head tipping to the side, “What if I wish for it?”

Klaus can only laugh, too startled to bother hiding his derision. “You’d waste another wish?”

He can’t see how she could possibly want to.

“Would getting rid of it hurt you?”

Not weaken him or take away his power. She’s worried about him hurting.

“Caroline. I think you fundamentally misunderstand the concept of wishes.”

She glares at him, “I’m going to ignore the fact that you kind of just called me stupid.”

“I didn’t phrase it quite that way.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of annoying?”

It’s not a condemnation. She might even be teasing him.

“Not for a very long time.” His siblings had once expressed such sentiments. Rebekah sually in a pitched shriek of outrage, Kol with a shove that generally led to a scuffle.

“That’s a no, then? Destroying the lamp won’t hurt you?”

“Not if you wish it.”

“Good.” Caroline steps away, shaking off the light hold he’s maintained on her wrist. Klaus finds that he’s not overly fond of the distance between them now.

She’s still in a bit of a temper, carefully straightening her clothing and enunciates carefully, “I wish for this lamp,” she pauses then, reaching out to pick it up, cradling it in both hands, “to be destroyed, for it to never be remade or repaired, and for it’s whatever magic it holds to die.”

“Thorough,” Klaus murmurs. He hadn’t been wrong; his Caroline is clever.

She bends her knees, dipping into a brief curtsey, “I’ve been researching.”

“Are you sure this is your wish? Once made…”

“A wish cannot be unmade. Blah blah blah. Just freaking do it.”

He takes it from her, the first time he’s willingly touched it. He grips it tightly, until it burns his hands. It fights him, he shakes, but a master’s will cannot be subverted.

He’s panting when he’s done but the lamp is gone.

He’ll never lose himself inside it again.

He laughs again, this time with genuine joy.

Caroline fusses over him, drags him into the kitchen and turns on the cold water. She holds her hands under the stream.

He doesn’t tell her it’s useless, that he’ll heal well enough on his own.

He remembers wanting things once. A toy sword, bread his mother had just baked. Pigments from a travelling merchant. The heart of a girl who couldn’t decide if who deserved her love most.

Klaus had thought he’d forgotten how to want.

He hasn’t.

#kcauweek2019 #klaroline #klaroline drabbles #an actual sequel to a thing that people actually wanted???#who am I

121 notes · View notes

gma-crafts · 4 years

Text

The Purrposal

The biggest thanks to @iloveyou-3000 for beta-reading faster than I could say Boom! You’ve been such a big help! A big smooch to @robertdowneyjjr for being such a sweet co-parent to the feline trio - check out her fics about the catdad!ironhusbands linked below!

Word Count: 3,286 Warnings: just loads of fluff, “very soft and gay” - test readers Characters: James Rhodes, Tony Stark, and their cats Mochi, Susu and Jonathan Summary: Tony lost something. Rhodey offers his help. But sometimes you only know what you’ve been looking for when you find it.

“Honeeey?” “What?” “Where’s my super suit?” “Whaaat??”

“Where the hell did she go?”

Rhodey drew his attention away from the movie he was watching. It’s not like he was able to actually concentrate on it anyway, ever since Tony slid into the room wearing his fuzzy socks ten minutes ago, and started opening drawers and doors, growing more and more frantic each time. Mochi, who had been sleeping on Rhodey’s lap, posing as a fluffy white bun, woke up from the ruckus and hopped off the couch to find a less noisy spot somewhere else in the house; and, honestly, Rhodey couldn’t blame her.

“You good there, Tones?” He asked over his shoulder, though he doubted he’d get a proper answer. Ever since he and his boyfriend moved in together two years ago, those hectic outbursts with Tony forgetting about everything and everyone within a two-mile radius became one of the less pleasant parts of their everyday life.

Don’t get him wrong, Rhodey loved waking up next to this beautiful disaster of a man, brushing back the mess of curls and watch those Bambi eyes flutter open. His military operations had him exposed to raw, untouched wilderness all over the planet, from desert sunrise to dusk setting over a snow-covered tundra. None of those ever had him stop and stare as when Tony’s soft, chocolatey gaze fell on him, spreading a warmth he almost felt physically.

But while Rhodey was a romantic at heart, as well as hopelessly in love with his oldest friend, he also was a calm and rational man - you’d never see him run around like a headless chicken in search for anything. Whenever something would be misplaced (and Rhodey liked to make clear that he was in no way affiliated with losing it in the first place), he would track it down systematically.

Tony, however, was different. He could hyper-fixate on a scientific concept for weeks, only to then revolutionize it in his basement workshop on a Friday afternoon. He kept track of a multitude of important things with an ease Rhodey only could envy. But if Tony discovered his favourite hoodie, the Stark Tech drafts Pepper had been expecting for weeks or Jonathan’s catnip toy weren’t where he assumed they’d be, the genius was gone in no time. You could set a countdown from ninety seconds down and watch him turn from chill to hysteric once it hit zero.

The time must’ve been up way before Tony dashed into their living room. Rhodey’s question went unheard and the bang of the highboard’s bottom drawer sounded particularly final. Rhodey hopped over the backrest with a small sigh - this goddamn hectic! - and squatted down next to one of the world’s richest people squirming on the ground, face pressed into the small gap between the expensive leather couch and the Italian oak floorboards , cooing and frolicking with a tremor in his voice that replaced Rhodey’s bewilderment with worry.

“Care to tell me what you’re looking for?”

“-t now, she’s gotta be here somewhere, f'god’s sake..”, came the muffled response. Rhodey gave his nose a small rub with his knuckle, more to gather himself than to cure an itch; he then hooked his fingers in the belt loops of Tony’s cargo pants and tugged him closer, ignoring the small yelp of protest, and cupped his boyfriend’s face firmly. Rhodey would tear up over the pout Tony sported later, he had to remain serious now.

“Babe. We talked about this. Stop making yourself all panicky and tell me what’s up.” Rhodey emphasized every sentence with planting a kiss on the absolute mess of curls, and with each, Tony’s grip on his wrists loosened a little. Finally he let some of his tension slip and leaned into Rhodey’s touch, still a bit out of breath from crawling all over the floor. His eyes were suspiciously bright when he finally answered.

“It’s Susu. I can’t find her! I looked for her all day, went through every room twice, I checked the laundry, all the drawers, I shook the treat box til I spilt half of them on the stairs, JARVIS went through the tapes for the last 48 hours, I checked all the beds and scratch trees. She. Is. Gone.” He huffed and slumped down against Rhodey’s chest, who immediately wound him into a hug.

“I lost my baby, Platypus. Probably locked her out days ago without even noticing and now she got run over by a car or froze to death or the Chitauri abducted her to-”

“Tony”, he cut off his boyfriend’s ramblings “First of all, nobody freezes to death in Malibu, especially not in June. Second of all, if she really had gotten lost outside, JARVIS wouldn’t have tracked her chip to still be inside this house. That was the very first thing you told him to do, remember?”

Tony nodded, his hair tickling Rhodey’s cheek. “Remind me to enhance the accuracy down to the very inch she’s standing on”, he mumbled against his boyfriend’s shoulder, hands gripping tighter on the fabric of Rhodey’s henley, his cheek vibrating from the chuckle the taller man let out.

“Anything, babe . But first let’s get you a snack and some water. Something’s telling me you haven’t eaten all day. And then we’ll find Susu together.”

Tony frowned at that suggestion, and Rhodey would’ve laughed out loud ‘cause it made him look so much like that genius, stubborn teenage boy that burst into his dorm room years ago, throwing his world upside down. Instead, he just smiled into Tony’s disastrous bedhead one last time before urging him towards the pantry.

Five minutes later, a granola-munching Tony followed Rhodey around as they searched for the smallest member of their feline bunch. It’s been almost a year since the two of them had adopted the pitch-black ball of fluff along with their oldest cat, Jonathan. Officially, they were brought into their little family to keep their first furbaby, Mochi, company; in reality, Rhodey had suggested taking in another cat after Mochi declared him his favourite person, and after Tony became less and less efficient in hiding that he was genuinely hurt by this decision.

While Jonathan never missed the opportunity to strut all over Tony’s face with a satisfied purr every morning, Susu and him grew especially close. Of course, Tony turned down any attempt of Rhodey’s to point out how much alike they were - tiny, soft, energetic bundles of joy, always on the jump to their next adventure, experiencing the world around them with a mind so sharp and a curiosity so insatiable Rhodey gave up on trying to understand them long ago. And every time he thought he finally had it sorted out, discovered the pattern, they’d turn around and surprise him with an entire new facette. But yeah, he was totally making all of that up.

They decided to start with their bedroom, since this was where Susu was most likely to be found - if she wasn’t napping in one of the twelve cat beds scattered in Tony’s workshop. While both Jonathan and Mochi mastered the art of coincidentally wanting to take a nap in the room you were already in, Susu never made her affection for Tony a secret. Rhodey often caught her checking in on Tony between naps with her high-pitched meows, her soft purrs, sometimes shamelessly bumping her head into his arm until he caved in and gave her some much-needed belly rubs. Those two chaotic goblins clinging to each other like conjoined twins made it even more suspicious that Susu hadn’t been seen for some hours now.

Rhodey tried his best to hide that he began to worry about the kitten’s sudden disappearance. With Tony still padding along behind him, he entered the bedroom and decided to start his search counterclockwise. Rhodey made sure to include Tony as best as he could, make him feel useful and not spiral further down; he asked him to hold up the sheets while he tried to squeeze under the bed with soft coos, or made Tony get the treats while he went through the first third of their wardrobe. Tony did as he was told, way calmer now as if Rhodey’s presence alone helped him to not lose his marbles.

He was in the middle of searching the top of their wardrobe as well as the upper compartments, when Rhodey heard a soft “Oh!” from across the room, where their dresser stood. He half jumped, half tumbled down the chair he was standing on and hurried over to where Tony hunched over the second to bottom drawer - the one with the old shirts Tony wore in his workshop. Rhodey sat down next to him, hand reaching to pull his boyfriend into a comforting hug, when he caught a glimpse of why Tony was on the verge of crying.

Two very yellow, very sleepy-looking spots were blinking up to him from between two stacks of black shirts. He now realized that Tony wasn’t sobbing, but non-stop mumbling to the little black cat squeezed into the already crammed drawer; a wild mix of profanities and affectionate murmurs. Rhodey let out a sigh of relief and reached over Tony’s shoulder to scratch Susu’s ear, much to her delight.

“-was so worried you stupid tiny fur noodle… checked this drawer like three times and you didn’t even wake up”, his boyfriend croaked and quickly wiped his face with his sleeve, before bending down and planting a big smooch on the kitten’s head. Susu responded with a friendly mewl and nuzzled her face against Tony’s cheek as if she hadn’t been M.I.A. for the past few hours, as if she was just checking in on him as usual, and yeah, now Tony cried.

Carefully he wiggled his hands around Susu’s tummy, lifting her a bit before placing one hand underneath her hind legs for support. But Susu, who had been fast asleep not even two minutes ago, wasn’t so eager to leave her hideout yet, and when Tony pulled her closer to his chest, two of the shirts came along with the cat, attached to her claws only by a couple of threads. And with the shirts and a small thud, something else fell to the floor, and Rhodey’s heart jumped to his throat.

“What’s that? You’ve been hoarding treasures in there, you stinky gremlin?”, Tony cooed, Susu pressed against him with one hand as he leaned down. Rhodey suppressed a small yelp; he had forgotten what he had put in that drawer until now. He tried to snatch it before Tony could see what it was, but both his hands had been too busy with running his boyfriend’s back up and down in soothing circles. A slim, calloused hand closed around the fine leather, and the soft words muttered into the kitten’s fur faded into silence.

Rhodey waited for a reaction, any reaction, but Tony just sort of froze, staring at the box he held, dumbstruck. He had no doubt Tony recognized the logo embossed into the lid immediately, connected the dots, and the longer the only audible sound was Susu purring like a fuzzy Bentley, the more anxious he became.

“Rhodey, is this what I think it is?” He didn’t look at the taller man, just slowly turned the box over and over in his hand, brows furrowed. Well, that wasn’t exactly a No, right? With gentle fingers Rhodey took the box from Tony’s grasp and flipped the lid open with his thumb, his eyes not leaving Tony’s face.

The frown slipped off his boyfriend’s features like a heap of snow from a rooftop, his eyes glistening with emotion and a sob tugging on the corner of his mouth. Tony lifted Susu a bit higher, buried his face in her fur for a second before he gently sat her down on the dresser, and reached to touch the slim metal band sitting in a bed of dark velvet.

“It’s made from our suits’ old chest plates. Y’know, that ‘piece of my heart’ thing. It’s sappy I know, but I liked it better than some fancy white gold or platinum,” Rhodey explained, more to calm his nerves than to actually share the info. Tony remained quiet, his thumb brushing over the anthracite metal, separated by a thin line of hot rod red and the tiny aquamarine sitting on top of it. Was that a smile? Yeah, but a sad one. Rhodey waited in anticipation for Tony to say something.

“I, um… I guess you want to keep that now.” Rhodey’s heart death-dropped from his throat to the soles of his feet. What?

“Tones, what are you talking about?” While he spoke, he set down the ring box on top of the dresser, where Susu gave it a curious sniff.

“I spent way more time on coming up with the perfect moment to give it to you than I’m willing to admit. The only reason I haven’t asked to put it on your finger yet is ‘cause I’m having the hardest time finding words for just how much I love you, and how happy it’d make me to be at your side, as your husband.“

Tony still didn’t look at him, arms wrapped around himself tightly and, oh no, Rhodey knew what that meant. They were back to spiraling, but the different kind. Quickly he closed the gap between them, his hands squeezing into the space between Tony’s biceps and ribs, gently forcing his crossed arms apart. The smaller man giggled involuntarily, and shied away from getting wound into yet another hug, but Rhodey wasn’t having any of it; his hands remaining on Tony’s waist, he pushed slowly, but firmly, until his boyfriend had to give in to the pressure.

Stumbling backwards until he hit the bed, Tony found himself harboured in by Rhodey’s arms on either side of his face, anchored down by the taller man hovering over him, so close he could feel Rhodey’s warm breath on his neck. It was hard letting your insecurities take the best of you, when the man you loved smiled down at you warm and tender like that.

Tony had a history with pushing through hard times alone, no one there to offer him comfort, even if he had been able to ask for it. Rhodey knew that isolating himself became one of Tony’s default responses to emotional stress, and he tried his best to let him know, at least physically, that he didn’t need to endure everything alone. Little did he know that for Tony, every kiss and every hug felt like a heating pad on an aching muscle.

"Tony. You’re the most brilliant yet most dense man I’ve ever met. Honestly, who looks at an engagement ring and goes ‘Oh, whoops! Must’ve been a mistake, that can’t possibly be for me’? I’ve spent years trying to figure out how that beautiful mind of yours works, and all it got me was a thinning hairline. So, Tones. Babe. Tell me what on earth makes you think I wouldn’t wanna marry you right here, right now?"

Tony squirmed around beneath him, his eyes glistening again; Rhodey didn’t move an inch. They’d talk this out, and they’d do it now, before Tony fled into his workshop and had JARVIS lock him out for three days straight.

"I- it’s just…”, Tony started, rather at a loss of words than reluctant to open up to his boyfriend; but eventually, the dam broke.

“I don’t see how you could possibly wanna marry me after I spent all day going bonkers over a cat, after I roamed the entire house twice, like an idiot, cried about seven times and didn’t even think of asking you for help 'til you physically dragged me away from crawling underneath the couch and- and”, he caught a quick breath, before continuing twice as fast “And I’m clearly not fit to be a good and supportive husband to you when I can’t even keep my shit together over a trifle like this, and just bottle up instead of asking for help, when I disappointed you and Susu with acting like an actual five-year-old and I don’t even know wh-"

The rest of the sentence was muffled by Rhodey’s lips on his, taking the breath for further rambling straight out of his lungs. The first sobs escaped Tony, and Rhodey switched to covering his face with pecks, kissing away the tear on his temple, brushing a thumb over the corner of his mouth until it lifted up into a tiny smile. Underneath him, Tony’s body was pliant now, and he just let Rhodey shield him from the world.

“Sweetheart. Dearest idiot mechanic. You may have synthesized a new element, but being brilliant apparently made you forget that you threw no less than seven birthday parties for your bots. And that I attended all of them. Going feral over a missing cat is not what makes me love you less, it’s what made me fall for you in the first place. You care about things most people wouldn’t even notice. The only idiot here? Clearly me for waiting so long with proposing and finally make you mine, with all your quirks. If you want, that is,” he added quickly.

And now Tony beamed, and he sobbed, and he hiccuped all at once, and goodness gracious how did he manage to look so disastrous yet so beautiful, Rhodey would never get used to this. Slender fingers tugged on his neck, pulling him into another kiss.

“Of course I wanna marry my Platypus. ‘course I wanna be yours”, Tony muttered against his lips, the tears rolling down his face not only his now. Rhodey smiled into the kiss, hands finding their way into Tony’s hair, lips trailing down the arch of Tony’s neck like they did countless times before. And when he got a soft, delicate moan as an answer it really couldn’t get any better- Only that it could.

“Hang in there for a sec”, Rhodey muttered and got up, scurrying over to where he left the ring on the dresser, with Susu guarding it like a fluffy loaf of bread. He reached for the box when a streak of muffled cusses erupted behind him.

“G’dammit Jonathan! Off my face you fuzzy bastard I’m. Not. Catnip!”

Rhodey turned around just in time to see the big grey tabby stretching out contentedly all over Tony’s head, as if he were his favourite toy. Tony’s efforts to get Jonathan off of him were sabotaged by Mochi, who had entered the room along with the older cat, and now took a seat on Tonys arm, making it useless in the man’s attempt to not suffocate. Rhodey grabbed both Susu and the box and hurried over to save his boyfriend - no! - his fiance.

“Didn’t strike you as the one to wear fur, Tones”, he quipped as he lifted the tabby off of Tony. Jonathan shot him a disgraceful look, before he scattered off to see if he could find some more of the treats Tony spilt earlier; Mochi and Susu followed heel. While Tony sat up and wiped the cat hair off his face with his shirt, Rhodey smiled down on him, opening the box once more to finally place the ring where it belonged. The small ‘click’ made Tony look up; and when Rhodey reached for his hand, and the cool metal settled against his flesh, his smile didn’t falter for a second.

“So, Babe,” Rhodey spoke after a minute of silence. He leaned forward until their lips met, softly pushing further, and Tony let himself sink back all too willingly. “Wanna pick up where we left off?”

#ironhusbands #tony stark #james rhodes #catdad!tony #catdad!rhodey #tonyrhodey #rhodey x tony

62 notes · View notes