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honey-milk-depresso · 3 years

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That Charm Shop In Liyue (Various Liyue Characters)

Fresh early morning in Liyue and someone has already entered your shop house. What type of charms do they wish for?

“Good morning!”

“Ah, good morning, Miss y/n,” a deep voice greeted you back.

Ah, so it’s Zhongli again.

He’s a regular customer, he comes here to see and perhaps buy one or two or all of your charms, pottery and other handmade trinkets you had made.

“Have you come here to see the charms? Have you thought of buying some?” you questioned. Most of the time, he didn’t bring the money, to which a certain someone would come in to his “financial rescue”.

“This charm,” he pointed to the brown and gold six flower knots that had a few auburn and burnish jade beads attached to the tassel, “what was the inspiration of this charm?”

“Ah that one. This charm was inspired by the Liyue god himself, Rex Lapis. It’s to bring about prosperous opportunities and benefits, find a trustworthy and loyal partner..” you spaced out.

Zhongli chuckled to which you snapped out of your own dreamy daze.

“Ah, well, that’s for mostly me and the other ladies who hope for a partner like that. Ahehehe..”

Zhongli simply gave you a small smile. “I’m sure you will.”

“Ah.”

He took a good look at the charm again. “Perhaps I shall hang this outside of the funeral parlour. So Hu Tao wouldn’t be constantly asking me how our profits are doing.”

You giggled at his remark. “Miss Hu Tao’s just worried about her company is all. I’m sure she meant no harm!”

“ Putting that aside, I would like to buy this charm.”

“Did you bring your wallet?”

“Let me-”

“No, he didn’t . Let me help you, Mr Zhongli.”

There comes Mr Zhongli’s walking wallet, Childe.

He’s the one who ends up buying the charms and other things Zhongli wanted to buy.

“Good morning, y/n! How are you this morning? Remembered to eat breakfast? If not I got some.” Childe placed a bento on the wooden counter in front of you.

“Did Xiangling made this?”

“Yeah. She said you should really eat up. She noticed how you were getting a lot more locked up in that little working studio of yours.”

“Is that so?” Lately, you’ve been getting more engrossed in your own charm making and crafts for your shop. You had so much inspiration for the past few weeks.

“ You have to remember to take care of yourself, y/n.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better. Welp, me and Mr Zhongli gotta buzz. See you around, y/n!”

“Bye Childe and Zhongli!”

========================== “Ganyu?”

“Ah! Miss y/n. How is everything going so far?”

Ganyu is not a buyer, but she comes in to patrol. She seems to really enjoy being in your shop to just chat with you, and you of course didn’t mind having to talk to her. Who wouldn’t?

”Great and normal as per usual!” you chuckled stupidly.

Ganyu giggled. “Well that’s great to hear!”

“So are you still taking lessons from Xiao?”

“Yep, still am.”

“How are things going?”

She sighed. “Alright I guess. It’s just a tad bit tiring. But I can manage.”

“Well remember to take breaks every now and then. Don‘t overwork yourself.”

“Thank you, y/n. Take care!”

“You too!”

========================== “Need help?”

You yelped in surprise as you almost toppled the box of charms you were carrying towards the trade boat.

Xiao would appear randomly out of nowhere in the evening to check up on you, for who knows what reason. It’s not that you don’t mind the adeptus’ company, it‘s just that he should really just stop startling you every 5 seconds.

”Oh! Xiao! Um, yeah! Thanks..”

He simply huffed and took the boxes from your hand, carrying it and loading it on the boat.

By that time, you scrambled back into your tiny shop house and took out a plate of his favorite dish; almond tofu.

“Thought you might have come back from your missions. Here as thanks for protecting Liyue and...er helping me carry boxes?” you chuckled awkwardly. He simply grunted. “It’s the job of an adept to protect Liyue. ” Yet he took that plate.

This softie.

You simply smiled and rolled your eyes a little. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“Hmph.”

Xiao glance back to the Inn Verr worked in.

“I should get going. And thank you for... the meal.”

”It’s no problem.”

He put on his mask and leaped onto your roof before jumping back to the inn.

You had to admit. He looked really cool doing that.

==========================

“Oh, Lady Ningguang?”

“Hello, dear y/n.” She smiled warmly.

Ningguang sometimes came here to buy your charms, or simply just browsed your items while having conversations with you. Sometimes, she gives you small gifts when she leaves. She wasn’t a regular customer like Zhongli, but she definitely wasn’t a rare sight to encounter, well, at night mostly.

“I actually have an invitation for you.”

”An- an invitation??”

Now that’s something new.

“Yes. I‘m inviting you over to Wangshu Funeral Parlor for some tea. I think you need a well deserved break.”

“Oh. Well, you’re very kind Lady Ninggaung, but I’m not quite sure.” Why that place though?

“Come on now. I insist.”

You sweat dropped. Ningguang sure is persistent.

”Well, I guessed it can’t be helped..”

She beamed.

”Wonderful! Be there at 7 in the evening. Here’s the invitation.”

She handed you a white paper that had words engraved in gold. “Thank you, Lady Ningguang. I’ll be sure to come!”

” Likewise.”

===========================

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself. You had just set foot outside of your shop house, dressed nicely and presentably as can be for your chat with Ningguang.

“Y/n.”

”Ah! Xiao stop scaring me like that!”

He simply shrugged.

“Where are you going?”

“Wangshu Funeral to meet up with Lady Ningguang.”

Xiao’s eyes widened ever slightly. “Oh yes, it’s 5pm...”

“ What was that?”

“Nothing. Come, I shall help you go to the parlour.”

“You know you don’t have to, Xiao. I’ll be fine. It’s only the evening.”

“No, it’s unsafe during this hour. I’m following you regardless.”

==========================

“Huh?”

“Surprise!”

There stood not just Ningguang, but Zhongli, Ganyu, Childe, Hu Tao, and so many others. Even Keqing was there. And Qiqi and Xiangling!

“Wha- What is all this??”

“It’s to say thank you for always being out for us!” Yanfei exclaimed.

“Out for you..?”

“You’re shop has always brought a peace of mind to many of us, and we thank you for being a friend when we felt down, even if it was unintentional or indirect, we would still like to thank you for being there for us to be invited in your open arms, and for the hard work you have put in,” Zhongli stated as he bowed slightly and took your hand ever so gently, enough to make your cheeks dusted in pink over the charming gesture.

“O-oh, I, um, I never knew that...ahehehe...Well...I’m glad to hear that!”

“Mhm! This party is also for you to relax and hangout!” Ganyu smiled.

You glance at the table that’s filled with dishes of food.

“The food...”

“Don’t worry, y/n! There’s plenty of food to go around! You’ll get the lion’s share obviously!” Xiangling said.

“Yeah, we also bought you gifts! Or at least, I bought half of the gifts on that table over there,” Childe stated as he pointed to a table on the left just loaded with gifts, “not to make it look like you’re birthday, but, ehhhh, yeah.”

“Hmm?”

You looked at all the gifts, the food and everyone else who loved coming to your shop house. What did you do to deserve these wonderful people. You tear up a little, overwhelmed by emotions that couldn’t be explained through words.

“H-hey! I didn’t mean to make you cry!!”

“Way to go, Childe.”

“N-no,” everyone else looked at you worriedly.

“I-I’m just really grateful for all this.... and you guys mostly. Thank you for also being there for me...” you smiled.

Xiao just smiled a little, but it was sincere.

Zhongli went up to you and gently cupped your face up, rubbing your tears away with his thumb. He smiled warmly at you.

“Likewise.”

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paradox-psyc-hoe-sis · 4 years

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Remus Lupin dating a hufflepuff would include...

Remus lupin x hufflepuff!reader, the marauders x platonic reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: no smut but talk of sexy times (sfw)

A/N: I'm back, babey! Recently took a smol hiatus but I'm back and better than ever. Here are some headcanons of what life would be like dating young Remus Lupin as a hufflepuff; I might do something similar with the different houses and the other marauders, but idk yet. As per usual, if you want a request then by all means shoot me a message! I write for the umbrella academy, marvel and Harry Potter so feel free to request anything :)) - Aphrodite

(Also I'm sorry I didn't spell check this, please forgive me)

• Every moment between you two was adorable!

• Being the semi-traditionalists that you were, it was a mutual agreement to take things slow and steady. But Remus was so infatuated with you - and you with him - that neither could deny the ever growing spark you shared.

• He'd always invite you on study dates in the library every Saturday, but most of the time it was just an excuse to see more of you.

• You'd always bring along a snack from the kitchens to the library, a different pastry or bake every week.

• "Guess who brought muffins!!!"

• When you aren't looking, he likes to leave cute messages on post it notes and hide them in your bag or throughout your books.

• "The only thing sweeter than those muffins is you, my love"

• You totally know when he does it, you've caught him a few times.

• However, you like to return the favour.

• "Maybe next time we 'study', you can let me Slytherin to your arms for cuddles"

• He loves the puns you make. Despite always being followed by an eye roll, he really does love them.

• He keeps all his notes from you in his bedside table and will read them after a particularly rough full moon 🥺

• Obviously, Remus was terrified to tell you his secret, but it went less dramatically than he thought it would.

• When you acted so truly selfless and reassured him that you'd be there for him no matter what, it really made him tear up. You promised to always be there after every full moon.

• You two can always be found cuddling in the gryffindor dormitories, 24/7.

• When you have a free period or a day free from studying, Remus will sneak you past the common room and into the dorms, where you'll just lay in his bed. All day.

• He's definitely the big spoon, he loves to hold you as tight as he can. But sometimes you'll lay your head on his chest, facing the ceiling, and he'll run his fingers through your hair.

• The boy is a human radiator, so you could practically hug him and his warmth all day long.

• One time you slept over with the rest of the marauders, and upon waking up, realised you had started your period. On Remus's sheets.

• "Hey, it's alright. I know this stuff happens, let's get you cleaned up."

• He was so mature about it all that you probably fell in love there and then.

• While you had a shower and changed the sheets, he went to Hogsmeade with James to get you some pads and snacks.

• Not needing a heating pad because he's just so damn warm gosh darn it

• While you and Remus were growing closer, you had an unexpected friendship with Sirius.

• I say unexpected, as when you first met you were positive he'd be trouble.

• "Moony, you never told me you were dating a hufflepuff! What a cute little cupcake she is." (Delivered with a wink)

• Let's just say, you may or may not have threatened to "shave off your pretty little locks if you call me a cupcake again."

• Although, this rivalry soon turned into friendship when you realised your senses of humour were identical.

• When Remus is busy and can't hang out with you, Sirius will take you to hogsmeade or play a game of chess to pass the time.

• Funnily enough, Sirius became oddly protective of you, letting Remus know that if he ever hurt you he'd be dead.

• Remus was always calling you a cute name, despite the circumstance.

• His favourite things to call you were babe, sweetheart, love, and snickerdoodle.

• You just stuck with calling him Remy, Moony, or honey (he'd never admit it, but he loves when you call him 'honeybuns')

• Remus is smart, and so are you. But when you're together, you share half a braincell.

• He's literally such a dumbass.

• "Babe, do you think toads can sense fear?"

• Cue you looking into the camera like Jim in the office.

• Whenever somebody tries to make any comments about Remus being a werewolf you are the first person to defend him.

• Nobody was afraid of you lashing out because you're "just a harmless hufflepuff". Their opinions changed when you punched a Slytherin prefect in the face for calling Remus a monster.

• At night, you'll both sneak out of the common rooms and meet in the kitchens for midnight snacks.

• You making some tea, and him eating some chocolate while talking to the house elves.

• You were always the best in your year at herbology, Remus however didn't stand a chance. He wasn't terrible at it, but certainly needed your help during lessons.

• "Y/n...what in God's name is that!?"

"...babe that's a celery."

• The summer between fourth and fifth year, he had the worlds biggest growth spurt.

• He was a little bit taller than you before, but when you returned to school for fifth year, he towered over you like a half-giant.

• This means that you could steal his fuzzy jumpers with them falling down to your knees.

• Sleepovers at the gryffindor dorms were a common occasion, but sometimes Remus would come to your common room late at night to have a dance party.

• Quietly playing the mixtape he made for you while you both danced around the area.

• You both had your first kiss towards the middle of fifth year, almost a year and a half after you first started dating.

• Remus came top of the class on an important DADA test. When he told you, you instinctively kissed him.

• You pulled away almost straight after, apologising for not asking for consent. Before you could say another word, he pulled you closer to him and placed another kiss on your lips, running a hand through the back of you hair.

• When you broke apart, you rested your forehead in the crook of his neck as he whispered in your ear.

• "I love you, y/n."

"I love you more, Remus."

• He wasn't really a big fan of PDA, but would happily do whatever you wanted.

• When the marauders were planning a prank, Remus made sure you were as far away from the action as possible.

• "What if we get y/n to be the bait? She could get-"

"James, there is no way y/n is going to jump into the great lake with weights ties to her ankles."

• You both did it for the first time near Christmas of sixth year.

• Peter was long gone home. James and Sirius had both left that morning to go back to the Potter's, offering you both a place to stay for the holidays. However, you were both happy to get some alone time.

• In the evening, he lit candles in the dorm and did cute stuff like that.

• He was so so nervous, but was still a gentlemen through and through, always asking if you're comfortable and making sure what he's doing is okay.

• It was really sweet, and both of you were really happy afterwards.

• Sometimes you'd share a bath with him in the prefects bathroom. The rest of the marauders always joked about how there'd be a bit more than bathing involved, but they were wrong.

• When you would share a bath, Remus would bring a book and read to you, doing silly voices for each of the characters just to see you smile. Neither of you ever did the Devil's Tango in the prefects bath, as it was always just for a nice relax.

• Speaking of books, Remus was always reading one. Sometimes you'd cuddle up next to him while he read, and he'd quietly read each line.

• Sometimes you'd do the same, reciting small poems from muggle books.

• He never told you, but after you had your first kiss his boggart changed. It changed from the moon to himself as a werewolf, holding your dead body.

• Gruesome, he knew, but it was significant to him.

• Along with his boggart changing, your patronus changed. In your third year you learned how to conjure a patronus, and yours was a porcupine. Yet in your sixth year, you discovered it to be a werewolf.

• Remus full on cried happy tears when he found out.

• After the worst full moon yet, Remus ended up in the hospital wing for 5 days. He was found unconscious, and woke up 2 days later to see you and Madam Pomfrey by his side.

• You took notes for him in class, brought him a few new books and bars of chocolate, and spent every free moment in the hospital wing with him.

• He had three long slashes across his face when you found him in the shrieking shack, yet he looked so calmly asleep.

• "When you told me you wanted to start having lie-ins, I didn't think you'd sleep for two days straight."

• You were the first person he wanted to see after such a terrible night, and despite your jokes, he was so grateful to have you next to him.

• "I hope you're not going to break up with me now that I'm ugly."

"You? Ugly? How could you ever think such a thing?"

• On valentines day, he enlisted the help of the marauders to make things perfect.

• After a date at Madam Puddifoots, you returned to Remus's dorm to a beautiful view.

• Fairy lights were strung along the bed frames, rose petals in a trail along the floor, your favourite scented candles burning on the bedside tables, and a teddy bear bigger than your entire body sat on Remus's bed.

• Turning around to face your boyfriend, you saw that he held 3 boxes wrapped in red paper.

• "Happy valentines day, m'love"

• Placing the gifts on the bed closest to him, he picked you up and wrapped you in a bear hug.

• You crocheted him a jumper in his house colours and got him a leather bound copy of his favourite book.

• He made you a bar of chocolate with your favourite flavours, bought you a chunky cardigan that he knew you wanted, and placed a painted, small wooden box in your hands.

• "Open the box, love." He stated with a smile. He seemed a little nervous, but eased up as he saw you smile.

• Inside the box was two aeroplane tickets to Paris.

• "It's not much, but I was wondering if you'd come with me this summer?"

• This was followed by a lot of happy screams, to say the least.

• When quidditch season came around, you both loved to support the other's house.

• You'd sport Remus's red and yellow jumpers when gryffindor was playing, and he would go all out with yellow and black spirit when it was a hufflepuff match.

• However, when it was hufflepuff against gryffindor things got way too competitive.

• You didn't speak to Remus for a week after gryffindor won.

• "Come on babe, just talk to me! I didn't mean it when I said that hufflepuffs are as good at quidditch as they are at their owls!"

• Professor Mcgonagall didn't really know much about you, being from a different house and all, but she saw how much Remus changed being with you.

• He seemed really well taken care of, and for once he was unconditionally happy.

• After dinner one night, Mcgonagall asked to see you in her office.

• "I just wanted to say thank you for taking such good care of Mr Lupin. It may be unprofessional for me to see him as a son, but I do, and I'm grateful that he has someone like you to support him."

• From that moment forward, she saw you as a daughter, and invited you to have tea with her every week.

• You didn't know it, but every full moon she'd add 50 points to hufflepuff, she could never thank you enough for looking after Remus.

• After you both graduated, you almost immediately moved in with each other.

• With the help of James and Lily, you bought a small cottage a few hours away from hogwarts.

• Every other wednesday, Sirius and Lily come around for a girls night while Remus and James catch up.

• A few months after you moved in together, Remus realised what he wanted, and for once he wasn't afraid to ask for it.

• It was a beautiful Saturday evening, the sky was purple from the sunset. Both of you were sat on the porch swing in your back garden, surrounded by magical plants and flowers, when he got down on one knee.

• "Y/n y/l/n, I've loved you since the day we met. I couldn't wish for anyone better than you, and it would be my dream to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

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buckysnumberonegirl · 3 years

Text

Three Cheers for Iron and Thunder

Part 6

Prompt from the HBCS Week of love day 7- first Valentine’s day

Pairing(s)- Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings- Fluffity fluff fluff

Part 5 / Finale

Hi Loves, I can’t believe we’re so close to the end. This is the last official chapter of Three Cheers of Iron and Thunder, the next (and last) part is just a little afterwards Drabble that will probably be up later today. I really hope you enjoyed this series, I know I enjoyed writing it. As always comments and reblogs are appreciated💕

You woke up to the sound of the door softly being shut and the smell of slightly burnt pancakes. You sat up and saw Bucky grinning at you. He held a wooden tray with a plate of food. Pancakes, some bacon, eggs, a cup of tea and coffee, one for you and one for him. You also noticed he had put some flowers in a glass, although you were almost sure the flowers were from Wanda garden.

“You look more beautiful than the sunrise Doll” Bucky set down the tray and kissed your forehead before sliding into bed next to you.

‘Did you get up early just to do all this?’ Bucky's eyes lit up.

“Do you like it? I asked Wanda for help after the pancakes... she said you’d love it”

You looked at the tray in front of you and felt pure bliss. ‘I do love it Buck, you went above and beyond’ you paused ‘ what do you mean after the pancakes? These seem fine’

Bucky blushed and brought his hand to the back of his neck, his typical response when he got nervous.

“Well let’s just say it’s been a while since I’ve been in the kitchen… and high heat doesn’t mean quicker”

The two of you ate your breakfast and talked about what you were going to do. A walk in the park where you had your first date, rewatching the movie you saw the day you had your first kiss. He had set it up to be the perfect day.

You had finished eating and were carrying out your tray to the kitchen, when you noticed a tiny gift bag on the counter. You set the tray down and peaked at the bag “to my best girl, Buck”

You picked it up and carried it back to the room.

Somehow in the 5 minutes you were gone Bucky had gotten a huge bouquet of flowers into your room. It was a culmination of all the bouquets he had gotten for you on each of your dates.

You noticed the window was open and saw a glimpse of Sam, who must have delivered the flowers when you left.

‘Mr.Barnes you left this in the kitchen’ you handed him the bag, he smiled and handed it back to you.

‘The flowers are beautiful, I can’t believe you remember all of this’

You started to open the bag, you found dog tags.

“I know it’s nothing fancy but it’s a little part of me… if you want them, that you can keep forever even if I’m not here”

You pulled Bucky in for a kiss and then wrapped your arms around him ‘I love them Bucky, I love you’

“I love you Doll, are you ready for our day?”

You smiled at him and grabbed your jacket.

The next few hours were filled with reminders of why you loved Bucky. Small things that were reminiscent of your past time together. By the time you got home the last thing you expected was another gift bag on your bed, this one larger than the last.

‘Bucky, love this is to much’

He smiled and kissed you “For you, it’s not enough. I have one last thing planned, I had to save the best for last”

Before you could respond Bucky left, closing the door behind him. You had no clue what he had planned.

Opening the bag on your bed you found a card on top

Doll, I hope this fits. I’ll be honest and say I put aside my pride and asked Wanda and Natasha to come shopping with me so I could find the perfect dress for you. Natasha said this color would bring out your eyes and Wanda said you’d love the fit. I don’t know about all of that but I think you’ll look beautiful, you always do.

Forever yours, James

You looked at the dress and were amazed, it truly was gorgeous. Your eyes welled up with tears, today had been perfect. You put on the dress and did your hair.

You had just finished when you heard a knock on your door.

Opening it you found Bucky. He looked stunning, wearing the same suit he had on when you had met. “Wonderful weather we’re having” Bucky smiled at you, you held out your hand

‘Yes, but I always carry an umbrella’

Bucky took your hand and led you out to a waiting car. It was raining slightly, but not enough to bother you. You got in and Bucky started to drive.

Looking out the window you wondered where you were going, the scenery looked vaguely familiar. When the car pulled up to a club you remembered.

This is where you met him. The very first time, Bucky got out and held the door for you before taking your arm and leading you inside. You were surprised by how quiet it was, a club like this rarely fell silent.

You walked in and noticed a strange lighting. As you got further into the building you saw candles lit around the dance floor, rose petals were scattered around. A path that was cleared led you straight to the center.

You turned around to face Bucky, and found him on one knee.

“Y/N, I met you at this very place over a year ago, I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you that I was going to fall in love with you. And I did, I love you more than I’ve ever known. You make me whole, and I can’t imagine my life without you. You ignited a flame in me that keeps me going and I know, when we started we said we’d take it slow. But I know how I feel, so Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Bucky opened up a small box to reveal a ring. Tears streamed down your face ‘of course, yes yes I’ll marry you’ Bucky picked you up and kissed you. When he set you down a slow song started to play, it was older but you had heard Steve play it before. “May I have this dance?” Bucky held out his hand, you gladly accepted and began to sway with him

You looked at the ring on your finger and put your head on his shoulder as the music played.

‘Hey Buck?’

“Yeah Doll”

‘Happy Valentine’s Day’

Hi guys me again I jueanted to say thank you again for reading, and happy Valentine’s ~Love Alex

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader fluff #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #reader insert #hbc week of love

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x-reader-theater · 4 years

Text

My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours {2}

Relationship: Geralt of Rivia X Male!Disabled!Reader

Summary: You still remember your healing. And the stories you shared.

Warnings: Cursing, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Word Count: 1132 words

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome back! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Here’s where we get to talk to Ciri! I promise Geralt will wake up next chapter. Again, I just want to thank my lovely Beta Reader/Editor @mystic-writes! They’ve been so helpful throughout this whole thing, and we’re working on more stuff as we speak! Please like, reblog, and comment! It really helps me continue writing. Also, I have a Kofi! If you want to support me, help me continue writing, please help out! Don’t feel like you have to donate, but this helps me stay on my feet, and continue doing the things I love! [Donate] Now, without further ado, My Days Are Numbered, but so Are Yours chapter 2.

Take a Chance for the Nights are Short (Book 1) [1]

Hold me Tight for the Days are Long (Book 2) [2]

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

Chapter 2: Fireside Chats are Always Insightful

You and Ciri get Geralt out of his armor and down onto your bed so you can get a better look at his wounds. You take your lantern from your hip and place it on the bedside table. "There should be some firewood outside. I just finished cutting it. Grab it. Start a fire."

She nods and hurries out of the room. You sigh and sit on the bed next to Geralt, reaching out and moving a strand of hair away from his face. "Oh Geralt. What have you done now?" You sigh and stand up, going to the chest in the corner of the room. You move the maps and trinkets from the top and open it, grabbing whatever medical supplies and potions you have. You walk back over to Geralt and start dressing his wounds.

You hear the back door open and Ciri's voice filters through. "Where do you want this?"

"Here! In the bedroom!" You call back to her.

She walks in carrying an armful of firewood, making her way over to the fireplace. She sets them down, lining them up to set them alight. You go back to helping Geralt, rubbing the healing salve you made a while back on his wounds. You could tell it hadn't gone bad quite yet, but another week and he would have been shit out of luck. You wrap him up as Ciri speaks. "Okay. I think I've got it. What do you need me to do now?"

"Get the kettle. Boil some water," you say, only half paying attention to her. Your focus is now on Geralt, and his well-being. You uncork your last vial of Swallow, and pour it down Geralt's throat in between his breaths. You listen as Ciri does as told. The last of the viscous liquid is poured down Geralt's throat and you see his face returning to a more natural pallor. He's still pale, like he was when you knew him, but he's not as pale as he was a moment ago. You can’t help but place your hand on his cheek, where he seems to have grown a rather striking beard.

You get up and walk over to Ciri, who's standing awkwardly by the fire, tapping her foot. You grab the mugs you left last night near the fireplace as well as the box of herbs you use to make your tea.

"Is he going to be alright?" She asks as you sit in one of the chairs in the bedroom.

You nod as you watch the kettle. "Yes. He should wake up in the morning. He'll still be in a lot of pain, and I'm sure he's going to be carrying some new scars, but he'll be alright." You look up at her as you say the last part, and she looks conflicted for a moment, before huffing and sitting down in the chair across from you. You grab some of the leaves and put them in each of the cups, before giving Ciri one of the mugs.

She takes it and watches as you lean forward, putting your mug in your lap, and grabbing the handle of the kettle. You pour some water into her outstretched cup, and she takes the kettle from you, pouring water in yours when you pick it up and present it to her. She sets the kettle down on the stone next to the fire, and you blow on your cup, trying to cool the scalding water.

"So, you know Geralt?" Ciri asks. Her voice is refined. She’s not from one of the neighboring villages. She’s from further away, a wealthy house you have to guess. She says some things like someone from Cintra would, though you admittedly don’t know many of the major houses of Cintra.

You smile, forlorn. "Yes. Long ago. He probably thinks I'm dead now."

Ciri just keeps looking at you as you try your hardest to look anywhere but at her. "How long ago was that?"

"I don't remember. It's hard keeping track of time…" You wave her off with your cup, some of the tea sloshing out onto the wooden floor of your cabin.

Ciri leans forward and says, not accusatory, but curiously, "You're the Silver Jakal, the one from the songs!"

You snort in disbelief. "He wrote more than one?" Ciri shrugs as you look at her. "Yes. I guess you could say that. Some people called me that when I was working, but it usually didn't bother me. It was a good alias if I wanted to stay under the radar. Soon enough it didn't matter. I moved out here, had Triss help me build this place, and I haven't talked to anyone else since. Besides Triss of course. She can never leave me alone."

"Until now," Ciri says.

You sigh and look forlornly toward Geralt. "Until now. You take a sip of your hot tea. It's cooler now, but still hot. You look over at Ciri. "I didn't realize Geralt had a child."

She looks at you, as if she's about to laugh, but she doesn't. "He didn't. I'm not his biological child. He can't have children anyways. I'm his by law of surprise."

You nod knowingly at that. "So he's your father." She nods. "Good, because if you were his wife, well… I'm not one to be jealous but in this case, with this man… I might be." You say this with a smirk and a little laugh at the end. Ciri joins you in your mirth as you take a drink from your tea. She hasn't touched hers. You sigh and lean forward, placing your mug on the floor, taking her hand in yours. She looks away from you at Geralt on the bed. "Ciri," you say in your most comforting voice possible. It seems to have worked because she looks at you with sadness and worry in his eyes. You squeeze her hand. "He's going to be alright. I promise. And if he isn't, you can kill me too, alright?" You say this with a smile and she smiles as well, nodding. You stand up, making sure not to knock over your mug as you do. "Why don't you get some rest? I'm sure you can attend to your own wounds, but I have some more bandages in the kitchen, in the cupboards. There's a chair in there you can sleep in, and some blankets you can use if you want."

She smiles and squeezes your hand. She walks out of the room. You sigh and slump into your chair, grabbing your mug from the floor and saying to yourself as you look at it. "What have I gotten myself into now?"

You down the rest of the tea.

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

Text

Lullaby

Keanu Reeves x reader Chapter Summary- Y/n makes complicated weekend plans, Daniel tells her how he feels and an intimate moment between Y/n and Keanu ensues.

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 12

Y/n sat on the bright white, velvet upholstered sectional in her new living room, laptop perched on her crossed legs, papers scattered around her. Y/n had only moved in about a month prior and against the walls, labelled cardboard boxes were still packed with things she’d brought over. Thankfully, the house had been furnished and somewhat decorated before her arrival. It was a nice place, though while Y/n had previously been excited to leave her childhood home, eager for the ounce of freedom that living alone would offer, she had found that it was also incomparably lonely. There wasn’t a full staff like she’d been used to at home, instead, there were two housekeepers, one that worked during the week and another for weekends, preparing meals and maintaining the interior and all in all keeping dust off the shelves. Besides the two women, both twice her age and one who barely even spoke English, Y/n was generally alone at her new house in Brentwood. Keanu had tried to spend time with her, but lately, he’d been caught up in re shoots and Daniel had been travelling between the states and Beijing for work. The thrill of dating two men, at least in Y/n’s experience, was vastly overrated.

So, there she was, on a Tuesday night, working alone, in her halfway unpacked living room. The television was switched off and the lights were on their dimmest setting while the hum of the air conditioner was barely audible. On the reflective coffee table, Y/n’s tea grew cold and that night, same as most since she’d moved, it had been easy to get lost in her work. Her fingers glided along the keyboard, the clicking of the keys interrupting the near silence. Y/n held her lower lip between her teeth, working without even considering the time, her burning eyes only ripping away from the screen when the automatic doorbell sounded.

Strange, she wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not that late.

Before she even considered getting the door, Y/n snatched her phone off of some scattered papers beside her, opening the app connected to the security system. Seeing who it was, she smiled despite herself, setting the computer down and heading to the front door.

“Daniel,” Y/n giggled quietly, falling into his arms, “You’re back early.”

Daniel took Y/n into his arms, gently lifting her off the floor, kissing her slowly before setting her beneath the threshold again, “Surprise,” he chuckled, his hands in hers.

Laughing, Y/n shook her head, “Well don’t just stand out there,” slightly, she tugged on his hands, stepping back to urge him inside, but he resisted, much to her surprise.

“I can’t stay,” and Y/n frowned when he did, “I have an early meeting tomorrow and my parents want to see me before I head home,” stepping closer to her, Daniel untangled his fingers from Y/n’s, letting his hands land on her hips, his thumbs rubbing the exposed sliver between her soft grey shorts and white vest, “And you know if I come in, I’m not gonna leave until morning.”

Groaning playfully, Y/n looped her hands around his neck, “Fine,” she grumbled, “Well did you just come here to tempt me, or…..”

“I actually came with an invitation,” he smiled down at her, “Can you get away early on Friday?”

“I don’t know, I’d have to ask,” furrowing her brows, Y/n regarded the man in her arms curiously, “What’d you have in mind?”

“Dinner,” he offered, with a grin that suggested that it was much more than that, “In Hawaii.”

Pretending to be annoyed, Y/n rolled her eyes, huffing, “How modest.”

“I know,” he chortled. When their laughs cooled, Daniel’s hands slid around to Y/n’s back, and she looked up at him, awaiting an explanation for the unnecessary splurge, “I told you that I’d take you out on the plane sometime, and I thought it would be nice for us to get away, considering we’ve both been so busy these days. Come on, I promise it’ll be fun.”

“I…..” Y/n chewed on the offer for a minute. She didn’t have anything planned that weekend; she certainly wasn’t going to spend it with her parents and Keanu was tied up in New York. Besides, it could be fun, “Let's do it,” she agreed, standing on her toes to kiss him again.

Their lips moved in tandem with each other and they forgot that they were standing outside until a ringing phone had them pulling apart, “Shit,” Daniel grumbled, fishing his cell out of his pocket, “It’s my mom,” he huffed, “Think she’ll be mad if I told her that I came to see my girlfriend before I went to see her?”

His girlfriend. The word made her breath hitch. Y/n didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“I don’t know,” she managed to push the thought away, “But I don’t want her to start hating me, so you should see what she wants.”

“Yeah,” his smile faltered, “I should go, but I’ll see you Friday.” With one final peck, he was off, heading to his car parked in Y/n’s tiled driveway. Backing out of the spot, he waved quickly before speeding up the street.

With a prep in her step and tingle in her veins, Y/n exuded exuberance as she made her way back to the living room, ready to pack up her stuff and head to bed while she was in a good mood instead of souring it with paperwork. Though, when she checked her phone, there were two missed calls from Keanu. They had last talked earlier that morning, before he got started at work, and suddenly missing him more than she’d realized, Y/n called him right away.

“Hey you,” she could almost hear his smile, “I was starting to think that you were already asleep.”

“Oh,” Y/n sank down, embraced by the cushions, folding on leg under herself and shoving her things away carelessly, “I was just…..in the shower,” Y/n didn’t know why she lied; Keanu knew that she was still seeing Daniel, but something about hiding the truth felt like the right thing to do. Well, the questionably right thing.

Keanu didn’t speak for a minute, and that was how Y/n knew he was going to ask; “Are you….still in a towel?”

Snorting, Y/n rolled her eyes, “Well, aren’t you a gentleman?” She teased, knowing he’d be okay with or without a few dirty pictures. Despite her sarcasm, Keanu really was a gentleman, never pushing her to do something she didn’t want to, unless it was coercing her onto his motorcycle of course.

“I am,” he defended in mock disdain, “In fact, I’m just reminding my gorgeous girlfriend how attracted I am to her.”

Girlfriend. There was that word again, from a different man.

“Yeah, okay,” Y/n scoffed, “For the record I’m not.”

“Bummer,” Keanu sucked his teeth, “Hey, uh,” he began again after a moment, as if just remembering why he’d wanted to talk in the first place, “I’m supposed to wrap up filming this Thursday and the wrap party is on Saturday. I was thinking, you could fly out to New York; we could spend the weekend together and come back together first thing Monday.”

Y/n’s mouth hung agape. She’d, no less than half an hour ago, made weekend plans with Daniel. But she didn’t want to say no to Keanu either. Dinner would just be for one night anyway, right? “If you have plans-”

“I don’t,” there she went, lying again, “But I’d have to fly in on Saturday afternoon, if that’s okay.”

“That’s great,” she could almost hear Keanu’s grin, “Just send me your flight details and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Awesome,” Y/n huffed. Slumping further into the chair, after that, she tried to pay attention to making plans with Keanu but her mind was on autopilot. Maybe she was wrong, maybe the thrill of dating two men wasn’t as vastly overrated as she’d initially thought.

Four Days Later Somehow, just dinner had turned into spending the night at a luxurious presidential suite at a five star hotel on a beach in Hawaii. It had been a lovely affair; Daniel had rented out a gazebo on a hillside, peppered with lush foliage and away from the tourists. Their secluded table had overlooked the ocean from afar and the worn wooden floor had been littered beautifully with red and pink flower petals while a decorative tiki torches had the place aglow.

The plane ride had been delightful too; Daniel was no doubt a versed pilot and Y/n had spent most of the five hour flight with her gaze shifting between the marvel that was him easily controlling the aircraft and the widow next to her. There was something about sitting up front that made the experience feel totally new, and Y/n, who'd been travelling since before she could remember it, felt like it was her first time in a plane; ‘oh-ing’ and ‘ah-ing’ at every landmark visible from their distance.

They hadn’t meant to stay the night, but things had gone exceptionally well and flying back to Los Angeles at two am was far from their minds, so instead, Y/n had led them to one of her family’s hotel’s booking them the finest suite by just dropping her name.

When she awoke at mid morning on Saturday, groggy and squinting against the sunlight, Y/n had lazily felt around the nightstand for her cell, tumbling out of bed when she’d realized that her flight to New York was leaving from LAX in just a few hours. If she didn’t move quickly and get her two-timing ass there by two pm, she’d miss it completely, which was in no way good considering she’d spent most of the week anticipating the time spent with Keanu.

After a hurried shower and half drying her hair, Y/n slipped into the outfit she’d brought with her, in anticipation of accidentally staying over. She hadn’t really intended to, but just in case, she’d stuffed a flimsy white sundress into her large handbag, along with a pair of cute underwear and a couple other emergency essentials. When she spilled out into the living room, Daniel was standing near the window, phone held to his ear as he spoke in Mandarin. Instead of speaking up, Y/n stopped in her tracks, watching him as he continued, his muscled back turned to her. He was only dressed in his jeans from the night before, his shirt still laid discarded on the nearby sofa. One hand was stuffed in his pocket, and Y/n spent a hot minute trying to figure out what he was saying, but she had never been good with languages and all she’d ever learnt in Mandarin was basic conversational phrases in passing when her parents took her to Singapore on business before she left for college.

When she eventually gave up, Y/n went over to the serving cart, pouring some coffee into a delicate mug before adding some creamer. After swiping up an acai bowl she headed to the little dining area on the patio. The view was, as expected, serene and undoubtedly stunning. In the near distance, Y/n could see the lush green of the gently swaying palm and coconut trees and the hotel was near enough so that she could hear the crash of waves against the populated white sand. Past the horizon, were the mountains, covered in healthy greenery, looking perfectly picturesque. Y/n’s eyes were trained on the sight past the glass framed balcony, and when a hand gently touched her shoulder, she jumped. “Sorry,” Daniel chuckled, pulling a chair close to hers before pecking Y/n’s lips. Stealing a piece of mango from her bowl, he reached across her shoulder, rubbing circles into her shoulder, “I was just on a call with my boss, they need me in Beijing again.”

“How soon?” Y/n furrowed her brows, swallowing the urge to ask him when they could head back to Los Angeles. She really didn’t want to miss her flight or disappoint Keanu, but she didn’t want to seem too hurried either, lest her parents find out that she ruined another date with Daniel.“Monday,” he sighed heavily, “There were some problems with a new model and he wants me to look at it,” dismissing it, he quickly moved on, “I didn’t know you brought this,” Daniel rubbed the capped sleeve of Y/n’s dress between his index and thumb, “It looks cute on you.”

“Thanks,” Y/n bent her head, blushing lightly, “I like to be prepared, so I brought this along just in case.”

Chuckling, he kissed her cheek, “So I was thinking we could leave after lunch, go down to the beach first, if that’s cool with you.”

Y/n hesitated, worrying on her lower as she tried to find the most pleasant way to vocalize her objection, “I actually need to get back before two, I have to be in New York this afternoon, on business,” she lied smoothly. Though, technically, it wasn’t really a lie; she did have business in New York, personal business.

“Oh,” Daniel stood abruptly, doing a shoddy job of ‘playing it cool’. He could definitely tell that Y/n wasn’t being honest with him, but neither had the courage to confront the elephant in the room, or rather, on the balcony. “Okay, well I guess we should get ready,” he smiled tightly, and Y/n watched him reenter the suite through the screen doors, wishing that there was a better way to do what she had just done.

They touched down at a private terminal at LAX, just minutes before one. Thankfully, Y/n had gotten her assistant to pick up her bags from her house and bring them to the airport. After collecting her stuff and changing quickly in the bathroom, going from her light sundress to a pair of black ripped jeans and a simple blouse with a stylish, grey, long coat over it and a pair of sleek black heels. Surprisingly, Daniel had stayed to walk her to check-in, though, when they neared the line, he stopped her, “I had a lot of fun last night,” he offered, though it seemed to come with hesitation; as if it were supposed to followed up with a cliched ‘but’.

Y/n nodded, glancing at her round-faced, designer, diamond encrusted watch, seeing that it was almost time for boarding, “I did too,” she smiled halfheartedly, trying to quell her impatience.

“Good, good. I’m glad,” Daniel stuffed his hands into his pockets, moistening his lips, “I know you’re going to see him,” he finally admitted, “And I know that you can do whatever you want, because really, it's your life and-”

“Daniel, can we-”

“Just, let me say this? Please,” his eyes pleaded with hers, asking if she’d spare him five more minutes, “I really, really like you, Y/n and I think that we could be good together. But I don’t think I can prove that to you when I’m still trying to win you over. I’m not asking you to never see him again, and I don’t need to know who he is, all I’m asking is that you think about, please?”

Taking a steadying breath, Y/n nodded slowly, tucking some hair behind her ear, “Yeah,” already, there was turmoil in her mind, especially when the realization suddenly hit her; there was no way for all three of them to leave that situation unscathed. Someone was going to get hurt, and it was all her fault, “Okay.” nothing but their lips touched as she bid him goodbye, the click of her heels drowned out by the excitement around them, though none of it was enough to overpower her troubling thoughts.

Even when Y/n was walking through JFK, Daniel’s words swam in her busy mind, though, it only took seeing Keanu waiting near the foot of the escalator for them to be pushed away. Nearly dropping her luggage, Y/n ran straight into his arms, giggling when he lifted her off the floor, “I’ve missed you,” she breathed into his neck, quickly comforted by his scent of cologne and cigarettes.

“I’ve missed you too,” Keanu’s grin was wide and even when he set her down, his hands lingered at Y/n’s waist, though, after a quick look around, he pulled away, “I’d kiss you, but I don’t think that would be our best idea.”

Y/n laughed quietly; she knew he was right. Hugging was bad enough, but if someone caught a picture of them making out, she’d never hear the end of it. Careful not to look too intimate, Y/n let Keanu take her bag, walking alongside him as they made their way to the underground parking lot.

The lighting in the garage was dim and blue-washed. They could have kissed or really, whatever they wanted, right there, but it was only after they were secured safely in the back of a heavily tinted SUV did Keanu pull Y/n to him, his lips crashing to hers. Y/n shifted, folding one leg on her seat, letting the other hang limp as she tossed her arms around Keanu’s neck. “It’s been weeks,” she sighed against her lips.

“Tell me about it,” one of Keanu’s hands tangled in Y/n’s hair, the other secured at her waist, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I,” Y/n giggled, kissing Keanu again. They spent the rest of the ride cuddled close, and by the time they got to Keanu’s New York floor-through apartment, it was just in time to get ready for the party. It was a nice building, in a cushy, comfortable part of the city that was spared from loud, unnecessary noise at night, standing tall among a row of other residential buildings on one side and a hotel and a couple high-end restaurants on the other.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Mere hours after landing in New York, Y/n was showered and changed into a iridescent, shimmery, two piece dress with a strappy ‘x’ at the back and a fitted skirt that sported a dangerous slit on the left side. She’d even squeezed in time impeccably do her make-up and hair. Her question had come when Keanu was helping her out of the car, his hand firmly gripping hers.

“Yeah,” Keanu shrugged, reeling Y/n in as they walked through the doors of the rented out venue; a local club in the city. Just as they did, security double checked the list, ensuring that it was actually Keanu and that he’d indicated that he was bringing a guest. “There’s enough security, no paps are allowed in and we don’t have to take pictures if we don’t want to. It’s gonna be fine babe,” Keanu pressed a chaste, reassuring kiss to the top of Y/n’s head.

Y/n looked up at Keanu through her lashes, in awe that he could ease her worries with just a few simple words and a quick peck. It was one of the many things that had her affections for him growing deeper. Keanu wasn’t a lot of things, he wasn’t the safe choice, he wasn’t the logical one either. But he was the man that thrilled her by just holding her hand, the one who’d recently started calling her every night, like clock work before she went to bed and the one that was almost always on her mind

Keanu wasn’t a lot of things, but he was the man that Y/n-

“Beer or a cocktail?” Keanu disturbed her thoughts, just as they found themselves a couple seats.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” Y/n smiled, pecking him on the lips just before he left. When Keanu later returned with a couple mixed drinks, he handed one over and they began their night; he introduced Y/n to his friends and co workers, they drank and she heard some stories from set all while losing track of time.

When Y/n and Keanu stumbled back into his apartment, it was past two am. Y/n was still giggling at a joke that Keanu had told and after he locked the front door, they trudged to his large bedroom, the pale yellow light adding a warm glow to the rustic decor as he flipped the switch. “I’m tired,” Y/n stretched dramatically, only letting her hands fall to her sides again when Keanu came over to do the back fastenings of her outfit.

Chuckling at her behavior, Keanu kissed her cheek just before he pulled away, getting undressed himself, “Well why don’t we just get ready for bed and call it a night?”

“That sounds amazing,” Y/n slurred plopping onto the bed to get out of her heels, tossing them aside before getting up and heading to the bathroom, to take off her make-up before her shower.

Getting ready for bed had felt like a trying process, but finally, Y/n was clad scantily in one of Keanu’s t-shirts and a pair of panties. The water had seemed to rinse all her tire away and crawling in next to him, she started peppering kisses along Keanu’s neck, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Rolling them over so he was on top, Keanu’s hand snuck beneath the over-sized jersey, a palm splayed on her stomach gently pressing her to the mattress. Giggling at his sudden movements, Y/n crooked her legs, her flat of her heels pressing into his calves. “I thought you were tired?” Keanu smiled down at her, dark strands curtaining his face.

When her laughter died down, Y/n’s hands slid up his back, moving to brush Keanu’s hair out of his face. Sliding one arm around the back of his neck, her fingers pressing into his skin, she tried to pull him down to her, “Well now I’m not. Are you?”

“Not particularly,” underneath the navy t-shirt, Keanu’s hand found one of Y/n’s breasts, while the other held up his weight, pressed into the mattress, “What did you have in mind?” His fingers toyed with her nipple, and her back arched involuntarily, her dampening center barely brushing his crotch.

“I think you know,” Y/n’s words were a shuddering breath and Keanu bent, sucking spots into the area just below her jaw. Her hands found the elastic waist of Keanu’s sweats, pushing them down, the tips of her toes aiding in shoving them completely off. As his lips traveled down her jaw, his trimmed beard scratching her skin, Y/n circled his crotch, rubbing him to life- which didn’t take very long. “Ke,” Y/n moaned, just as he’d gotten her out of the t-shirt, returning to his ministrations.

Keanu just hummed in response, his hand travelling to rub Y/n’s cilt through her panties just as he took one of her breasts in his mouth. She ground on his fingers and eventually, he helped her out of them, his fingers slipping into her soaked folds, his hazy vision focused on how her mouth hung open, her already cloudy mind fumbling for words.

“Keanu,” Y/n mewled, her hips bucking towards his, “I don’t wanna wait tonight,” her pleas were low and needy, “Please.”

Steadying her at the hip, Keanu entered her slowly, admiring the way she threw her head back, exposing her love-bite riddled neck, jaw slack. One of her hands stayed at his back and the pads of her fingers clung to his skin, while at her side, Y/n held a fistful of the beige duvet, squeezing tightly. As he rolled his hips at a leisurely pace, Keanu lowered his lips to hers, their noses and foreheads pressed together as he swallowed up her moans, his grunts contained in his throat.

Things felt different that night, deeper. Past the tangible, Y/n felt like there was more between them, something that gave her the best tingle in her toes and sent pleasurable shocks up her spine. There was nothing hot and heavy about the experience and while sex with Keanu was always phenomenal, what they were doing that night wasn’t just sex. There with him, feeling the friction that his throbbing cock created as it pumped in and out of her slick folds was almost secondary to the feeling of just being connected to him. It was euphoric.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/n mumbled, his lips still a hair apart from hers, “God, Ke, I’ve missed you all week.”

Smiling softly, Keanu breathed against her lips; he’d missed her to, more than he figured he was. His waking thoughts of her had gone from being lustful to simply just wondering if she’d had a good day, and hoping that she was thinking of him too. That night, Keanu wanted to show Y/n; not how much he worshiped her body, but how much he cared for it, how something as simple as her existence made him feel. “You’re…..” his breath was ragged as he felt the first makings of Y/n’s orgasm; her moans getting louder and her body tensing up beneath his, “You’re so perfect baby.”

Pressing the sides of their faces together, Keanu breathed the scent of her coconut shampoo as she whimpered quietly, her body quaking with pleasure, her free hand flying to his back. Y/n clenched around him, her walls contracting and her breathing ragged as sticky heat spilled out of her core. Like that, he could feel the hassled thumping of Y/n’s heart and her hot breath on his neck. It was enough to throw Keanu over the edge, moaning Y/n’s name, along with a string of obscenities into her ear, as he shot his seed into her. Keanu’s thrusts went rigid as he rode out both their highs, kissing Y/n passionately. Even after they were done, they stayed like that, still tangled as their breaths slowed and it was a short while before he eventually pulled out, rolling on to his back.

By the time they were cleaned up, Y/n was half asleep, her eyes slipping shut as she curled up against Keanu, cheek over his heart, her hair fanned out on his chest and one leg hooked over his thigh. Keanu held her close, pulling the sheets over their bare bodies, his tired eyes fixed on the beauty in his arms. “Goodnight baby,” he hummed.

It took a minute, and Y/n seemed to be mostly asleep as she shifted against him, humming contented, “Keanu….” she mumbled drowsily, her eyes still shut. Keanu emitted a sound of question before Y/n continued, though he didn’t think she heard it, “I love you.”

At first, Keanu got to thinking that his ears and tired mind had betrayed him, but it couldn’t have been anything else. Three little words that he hadn’t thought of until then. They made his heart flutter and drew a sleepy smile from his lips. Craning his head, Keanu kissed the top of Y/n’s head, he was almost sure that she hadn’t registered what she’d just said, but it was a moment he would treasure forever, and even though Y/n seemed to be sound asleep, Keanu returned, “I love you too Y/n.”

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @baphomentwolf666 @a-really-bi-girl @sdaff2

#Keanu Reeves #Keanu Reeves x reader #Keanu Reeves x you #Keanu Reeves fanfic #fanfic #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fanfic #lullaby #Keanu Reeves fanfiction #fanfiction #ff #john wick x you #fluff #fic #lullaby chapter 1 #series

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mostfacinorous · 5 years

Text

Whumptober 11th

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

(I think this one is my favorite so far)

Whumptober 11th: Stitches

“Crowley-- what’s happened to you?” Aziraphale stood quickly, upsetting the book that had been resting in his lap and sending the empty saucer plummeting to the ground.

“The miracle of modern medicine, or somethin’.” Crowley answered, waving his bandaged hands and working hard to only speak out of the left side of his mouth, as the right side was stitched at the corner-- to match the stitches high on his cheekbone, and the swelling that kept his right eye shut.

“Well, certainly, I can see that, but what happened before that?” Aziraphale pressed, setting his tea down and coming out from behind the low table to approach the battered demon.

“Bit of a reprimand from below. Guess they didn’t like my report about failing to escalate things and start a war. Nothing too impressive. But I lost consciousness towards the end of it, and they left me in the gutter, so some good samaritans called an ambulance, and--” he gestured again, to encompass all of it.

“Oh, I wish I could help, Crowley, but you know how heavenly power hurts at the best of times for you-- I wouldn’t want to make matters worse.” Aziraphale had begun wringing his hands, and Crowley responded with an eyeroll that, oddly, made Aziraphale feel better. Hurt though he was, at least he was feeling like himself.

“I’ll heal up fine, angel. I just need some help with the stitches. My fingers are a bit, ah--”

Of course-- if he healed with stitches in, the stitches would heal into him, and, vain as he was, the scars would be horrid. And the unfinished sentence, the potential words hung on the air, each worst than the last. ‘Ruined’ ‘destroyed’... Aziraphale firmly refused to think of any more.

“Certainly, my dear. Oh, let’s go into the kitchen, though? The lighting there is much better, and I’d rather see what I’m doing.”

Besides the kitchen, small and cramped as it was, had no rugs to suffer stains if Crowley started bleeding again, which Aziraphale thought he might.

Crowley was entirely too agreeable, given his usual views on Aziraphale’s kitchen, and he couldn’t help but suspect that Crowley was either in substantial amounts of pain, still under the influence from his hospital stay, or also wanted to preserve the back room, which he definitely found more comfortable than this one.

Regardless of the reason, when Aziraphale pulled out the chair for him he sat willingly, and only winced slightly at the landing. Aziraphale did his best not to be too obvious as he looked him over, hiding it behind the process of removing his coat and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“Is there-- that is, I don’t suppose they limited their attacks to your face and hands.” He gave Crowley a much more open up and down, somewhat afraid to see signs of further damage, but all too aware that it must be there. Demons didn’t tend to be particularly kind-- or restrained.

Crowley shrugged, though it looked like it cost him.

“It’ll all heal.”

“Right.” Aziraphale said faintly, wishing he could ask to see, but afraid that it would be overstepping a boundary. And it wasn’t as though he could do anything to help with it, at any rate. Besides, he was sure anything that needed doing, the human doctors had seen to.

Having run out of things to distract him or delay with, Aziraphale snapped and summoned his wing care kit onto the little kitchenette table.

It was probably imposing seeming, the highly polished wooden box decorated with golden inlay.

It had been a gift, and used to contain a golden vanity set, but it had become home to a host of tweezers and small scissors, specialized combs, soft cloths, and the feathers that came out when he made the effort to straighten them out-- far less frequently than he ought to, he knew.

He lifted the lid away and moved aside the velvet bag of his molted feathers, glad that they were covered, though he had no doubt that Crowley would guess what they were and say something about it.

He flushed faintly at the possibility, but Crowley remained polite and quiet-- subdued.

Almost worrisome, that.

Though, it was hardly a mystery as to why.

Aziraphale lifted his scissors and carried them to the small sink.

“I’m just going to wash them-- they’ve been unused for a while, and I don’t want any dust getting in your wounds.”

“‘M not gonna get an infection, angel.” Crowley protested, but it wasn’t a strong argument.

Aziraphale washed them anyway, and returned, stepping between Crowley’s spread legs to be as close as he could-- the better to see what he was doing, of course.

“Hold still now- I’m going to take them out of your lips first.”

He caught Crowley’s jaw, hand wrapping under his chin to steady his head, and made the mistake of looking through his sunglasses and directly into his eyes.

He swallowed compulsively, and had to turn his attention to the stitching in his lips, though that wasn’t precisely a safer place to be looking.

Crowley was, after all, made to be a temptation.

Aziraphale took a steadying breath and brought the scissors to the widest of the stitches. He slid them gently under and snipped-- one down-- and checked in with Crowley’s eyes, looking for any sign of pain. Not, of course, that Crowley made it easy, hiding behind his shades as he did, and averting his eyes.

When he didn’t call a halt, Aziraphale did it again, then again, working his way through all of them.

Once the loops had all been cut, he sat down the scissors and retrieved the tweezers, beginning the unfortunate process of pulling the threads back through the holes, which were still bright red and inflamed, swollen and painful looking.

Crowley hissed softly as the first one tugged through, and Aziraphale paused.

“Forgive me,” He murmured, and reached for the sunglasses. Crowley froze, eyes wide behind the smoky lenses, but he didn’t protest.

“I just want to see when you react-- be certain I’m not hurting you too much.” He spoke gently and, he hoped, convincingly-- though it was only half-lie, and thus only half-selfish, the way he drank up the sight of the burnished gold of Crowley’s pupils, the way he soaked up the proximity, knowing he shouldn’t, and wishing that so many of their circumstances were different.

“Get on with it.” Crowley sounded cross, and Aziraphale knew that meant he was more uncomfortable than he wanted to let on.

“Right.” He said, and began pulling the next through, careful to draw the knot side out, lest he tear Crowley’s dear lip.

Crowley had to work hard not to wince or flinch, and Aziraphale paused again.

“‘S fine angel. Just-- talk. Say something. Distract me.”

His lips could move more freely now, and Aziraphale turned to summon forth a handkerchief to dab away at the slow trickles of blood that followed.

“Oh dear me, I wouldn’t know what to say.” He started, fishing around for a suitable topic.

Which oughtn’t be hard, he knew; he often spent the majority of their dinners nattering away while Crowley watched him with a look that, on anyone else, might be adoration.

“A pair of women came into the shop yesterday,” He started.

“Oh no,” came the demon’s sardonic reply, and Aziraphale felt his own lips twitch upwards, absurdly comforted by this bit of normalcy, even as Crowley’s blood dripped down the tweezers and onto Aziraphale’s fingers, stinging lightly where it fell.

He wiped it off, barely sparing it a thought. It wasn’t the first time he’d had Crowley’s blood on his hands, and while he hoped it would be the last, he knew better than to expect that to be true.

“Well, they wanted to request that I make a list of the books I had, and list them online. So that more people might come to buy them.” He knew he oughtn’t sound scandalized and horrified at the thought; Crowley had pointed out more often than not that traditional bookstores sold books.

Crowley’s lips pulled into a smile, and Aziraphale was glad to see that it didn’t hurt him any more.

Pulling the last bit of thread through the holes in his cheek, though, clearly did, and just like that, the tiny glimmer of a smile disappeared.

He must’ve looked stricken, because Crowley patted at him with one of his wrapped hands.

“What did you do to drive them off?” He asked gently, and Aziraphale shook himself, turning back to his task.

“Ah, I explained to them that neither computers nor the internet are allowed in the shop. And do you know what they said?”

He goaded for a response while he began snipping at the next set of strings, these somewhat harder to get to due to the relative firmness of the skin over his cheekbone.

“Mm?” Crowley asked, his eyes drifting closed.

“Apparently there is something called a Yell Page, with reviews of my shop, and they intend to leave a bad one. Can you imagine! A website to tell people not to come to my store. Modern technology is wonderful.”

A warm chuckle rolled through Crowley’s chest. And standing close as he was, Aziraphale could feel it.

“Yelp. One of mine. Invented specifically for me to leave scathing reviews on this place.”

Like the rumble of his laughter, his words vibrated through Aziraphale’s core, followed by an unrestrained surge of fondness that he was sure even a demon could feel.

“How very dastardly of you.” He said, though without any accusation or bite.

“I’m going to cut this last batch as well, and then we can pull all of these and have done with it.”

“No rush.” Crowley mumbled, and Aziraphale wasn’t certain whether he was meant to have been able to hear it or not.

Regardless, he elected to ignore it and focus instead on the work at hand.

For all that they had been harder to cut, the stitches slid out of this skin more easily, though Aziraphale was careful to hold the skin steady with his other hand, so that it didn’t pull or twist in the process.

Once all of them were removed, Aziraphale lifted Crowley’s left hand.

“This next, and then you can heal up, hm?”

“Aziraphale, I should warn you-- it’s not-- it isn’t pretty.” Crowley was looking away, refusing to meet Aziraphale’s eyes, and he had to swallow around a lump of worry that formed in his throat.

“That’s alright-- your hands will be lovely and whole again soon enough. This too shall pass.” He promised him, resolving to hide any reaction he might feel as he unclipped the outermost edge of the bandages and began drawing them away.

It wasn’t pretty. Whatever they’d done-- and Aziraphale’s mind was providing entirely too many options-- they’d twisted, broken, and shattered his fingers until they barely resembled hands any longer. The doctors had set them as best as they could, and there were clearly places where they’d put screws in-- and that would be trouble later, if Crowley healed them that way.

“Will you be able to snap at all?” He wondered aloud.

Crowley grimaced.

“It’ll hurt.” He admitted. “But better than the alternatives.”

“Can I-- I can’t heal you but I think, I could remove the metal with a miracle, if you can snap it better after.”

Crowley tilted his head.

“Would you?” He asked, almost as if he were surprised, and for some reason that made guilt swell in Aziraphale. What had he ever done to make Crowley think otherwise?

Whatever it was, he would have to be sure to remedy it from here on out.

He got both hands unwrapped, and sat them gently on Crowley’s thighs.

“Alright. As you said, this will hurt--” He cautioned. Crowley nodded, and Aziraphale snapped, the screws joining the bits of suture string on the table at his elbow.

Crowley groaned and swayed, looking for all the world as though he might pass out and slump out of the chair.

“Alright?” Aziraphale asked, grabbing hold of his shoulder to keep him upright, and then pulling his hand away like it had been burned, when it appeared his touch had hurt Crowley.

But maybe the pain was the grounding force he needed. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his mangled hand.

The snap looked like it hurt, but its effects were instantaneous.

And, no doubt, costly.

Crowley swayed in his chair again, but this time he lifted his hands to steady himself with a grip on Aziraphale’s hips. Crowley leaned in, and rested his face against his stomach-- usually Aziraphale considered it too plush, too soft, but for the job of being a temporary pillow, he found himself incredibly well suited for it.

“Would you like to stay here and rest for a bit?” Aziraphale asked softly, loathe to end the contact, but well aware that sleeping might be better for Crowley right now, and he had some mess to see to in the form of surgical debris.

“Mhf.” Crowley answered, or didn’t, but Aziraphale knew what he meant.

“Come along then,” He said, shifting and pulling Crowley gently to his feet, then up off of them. He carried his demon friend into the back room and laid him out on the soft couch.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll watch over your sleep.” He assured him. Crowley seemed already to be drifting off, but he smiled gently at the words, and Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He leaned down and brushed his lips against Crowley’s forehead in an affectionate and blessedly-- damnably?-- chaste kiss.

Crowley would wake with his glasses and a good whiskey beside him, and Aziraphale in the chair across the way, reading and sipping cocoa. And everything would be perfectly normal again, hurts and temptation alike banished.

For now.

#whumptober #whumptober2019 #blood cw #removal of stitches #finger trauma #bandages #medical content cw #good omens fic #that writing thing I do

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hymn2000 · 4 years

Text

Ideal Confusion - MCU AU Fanfic - C11

(Title subject to change)

Story summary: Giving into the constant pressure from the press, Tony decides to put a rest to the rumours that Peter is his biological son - once and for all.

Previous Chapter(s): 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: family, family stuff, adoption, DNA test(s), pressure, peer pressure, social issues, mentions of alcoholism, mental health problems, potentially some minor medical inaccuracies, mentions of corporal punishment, hurt/comfort

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 11 - Blues For My Baby And Me

Jo Jo looked understandably wary when Loki and Peter came back downstairs.

“Hi...”

“Peter has something he wants to say”

He gave Peter a gentle push forward. Peter swallowed.

“I... I’m sorry for the way I’ve been today. I’m sorry for being rude and shouting and calling you names and pushing you and all that stuff. I don’t really know why I did it but I know it was bad and unfair. I feel really bad about it. I’m sorry...”

Jo Jo stood up slowly. “Thanks, little guy. I appreciate it. Sorry you’ve been feeling a bit rubbish today. And I’m sorry for nearly smacking you”

Peter nodded, glancing down, and then back up, and down again. Jo Jo fancied he knew what he needed.

“Can I get a hug, little guy?”

Peter looked up and nodded. Jo Jo hugged him, and Peter hugged him back.

“I forgive you” Jo Jo said. “Are you ok now?”

“I think so”

“Good” Jo Jo held him at arms length. “You’re a good little kiddie, really”

Loki lay a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Good boy. Why don’t you do your own thing for a little bit while Jo Jo and I talk?”

Peter knew it wasn’t really a suggestion, so even though he rather wanted to stay with his dad, he nodded.

Peter went out to the corridor to look through his overnight bag, and suddenly noticed the upright piano opposite the door to the kitchen. It wasn’t anything special; just a regular old wooden one, but it looked well kept. Peter lifted the fall board, looking at the keys. He tapped each one in turn, and then tapped out Mary Had A Little Lamb. It sounded perfectly in tune to him. He pulled out the piano bench, looking up to see if there were any music books on top of the piano. There wasn’t, but there was a little CD player.

Peter went over to his bag. He’d just thrown a random handful of CDs in there, not bothering to look which. Following the theme, he grabbed one of them at random. It turned out to be a homemade compilation of Elton John music - one Peter had forgotten about until that moment. He flipped it over, reading the track listing scrawled on the back paper. He shrugged, double checking the CD player was switched on, and loading the CD. He sat down on the piano bench, making himself comfortable, and clicked the buttons on the CD player, finding the right track. He pressed play, and set his hands on the keys.

Jo Jo looked up. “Do you hear that?”

Loki listened for a moment. “Yes..”

They were quiet for a minute or two.

“That’s not just a CD, is it?” Jo Jo said.

“I don’t think so” Loki said, standing up.

Jo Jo followed, and they went back through to the kitchen diner as quietly as possible, keeping a distance so Peter wouldn’t be distracted by them. They watched him, listening to him playing along to the stereo, and listening to him sing.

“... Bruised in this cold war of words, we've come undone, two loose ends alone. Possessed, by that curse you've endured, the spell that I cast, couldn't make you come home”

They moved closer, carefully, leaning against the door frame.

“...Why is it always this way? Time never seems to really fly. And time is never really on my side. And I can't stay alone tonight. Things have to change, and they might, but I can't stay alone tonight. Things have to change and they might, but I can't stay alone tonight”

They stayed quiet, listening to the last few bars as the music faded out into silence.

“Well” Jo Jo said, and Peter jumped. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to make you jump!”

Peter looked at them, pausing the CD, his face flushing. “H-how long have you been stood there?!”

“A minute or so” Jo Jo said. “I didn’t know you could sing!”

“Um...”

“Where did you learn to play the piano like that, young man?” Loki said.

“I-I, um, I just kinda, just kinda made that up. Well, not made it up, but just like, copied what I heard. Like, singing along. But playing along”

“That’s a hell of a skill” Jo Jo said. “Having an ear for music like that is pretty spectacular”

Peter looked down, his cheeks hot.

“I didn’t know you could play anything at all on the piano” Loki said. “Did someone teach you?”

“Well, we’d done a little bit in music at school” Peter said. “And Mr James has been giving me some little lessons too. I can’t read music though: it just doesn’t make any sense to me”

“Instrument music lessons cost extra at St Hendricks, though” Loki said.

“I-uh... I paid for them out of my pocket money”

“Why didn’t you tell us? We’d have been happy to pay, and help you practice”

“Well, I kinda skipped some swim team stuff so I could do it, and I didn’t wanna get into trouble with dad”

“Oh sweetheart” Loki rested a hand on Peter’s shoulders. “It sounds like you’ve got a gift”

“You could be great - better!” Jo Jo said. “Can you play us something else?”

Peter looked at him, and then at Loki, who nodded and stepped back. Peter paused, looking at the listing on the CD case.

“I... I could try this one?”

“Ambitious” Loki said. “Go on, chick. Show us what you can do”

Peter clicked the skip button on the CD player a few times. He felt a little sick, his hands were shaking, and his heart was thumping with nerves, but he tried to pretend the grown-ups weren’t there. He took a deep breath, sat up straight, pressed play, and got ready to play. Maybe he should have chosen a shorter song.

“Captain Fantastic, raised an’ regimented, hardly a hero. Just someone his mother might know. Very clearly a case for, conflicts and classics. Two teas both with sugar please. In the back of an alley..."

It wasn’t a song Peter had tried playing before, and it wasn’t easy, even though he knew the tune so well, especially as it wasn’t a track where the piano was easily heard. He had a few wobbly notes, and a few times he accidentally caught two keys at once. But, he didn’t think it was bad for a first, nervous try, so he carried on valiantly, trying to lose himself in the story of the song.

“...For cheap easy meals, hardly a home on the range... Too hot for the band, with a des-perate desire for change.. We've thrown in the towel too many times, out for the count an’ when we're down, Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy, from the, end of the world to your town..”

The pace was a bit too fast for Peter, and he stumbled over his words a little, but he did the whole five minutes and however many seconds, and then paused the CD player and sat back, turning nervously to Loki and Jo Jo.

“That was a bit fast for me” he admitted.

“You did great!” Jo Jo grinned. “You’re so good! Do another one!”

“Umm...”

“Why don’t I choose?” Loki said, taking the CD box and looking it over. “I’ll choose a shorter one for you”

“Please don’t choose Grey Seal” Peter said. “I’ve never managed singing along to that one”

Loki laughed slightly. “I’ll choose a nice one, don’t worry, chick”

He took his time surveying the list. Peter looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers. It had been a good couple of weeks since he’d played. The only instruments they had at home were Loki’s guitars, which were more ornamental, a decorative horn, and some maracas he’d had as a toddler, so he hadn’t been able to do anything there. He felt a bit rusty, but he did enjoy losing himself in the music.

Loki fiddled with the CD player, selecting a track.

“Ok?” he said.

Peter nodded, readying himself, and Loki pressed play. Peter recognised the track straight away, and couldn’t help smiling.

“She chose the soft scent and, took it to bed with her mother. And the ideal confusion was just an illusion. To gain further news of her bro-ther”

There was something incredible about seeing something new in Peter, Loki thought. He was comfortable, and his playing was fluid. It sounded good, and so did his voice. His style imitated the original to a degree in pronunciation, but was also quite definitely a different take.

“His styling is good” Jo Jo said, quietly, so as not to distract Peter.

Loki had to nod in agreement, keeping his eyes on his son. He got a few of the lyrics wrong, but, Loki thought, he could see why he made the mistakes, as some of the lines did sound like something else - and Loki only knew they were wrong for certain because he remembered reading the lyric book of the Empty Sky album. But, it didn’t matter, because it sounded right - and Loki wasn’t going to point out any of his mistakes.

“And I don't want to be the son of any freak, who for a chocolate centre, can take you off the street. For soon they'll plough the desert, and God knows where I'll be. Collecting submarine numbers, on the main street of the sea”

It’s incredible, Loki thought. How a song that means so much can mean even more coming from him.

“The Vicar, is thicker, and I just can't see through the hymn, for his cardinal sings, a collection of hymns, and a collection of coins is made after..”

There was a brief silence after the last few notes were played. They let the next song on the CD play, none of them saying anything. Peter swallowed hard, and turned to the adults.

“I know that one” he said.

“You certainly do!” Jo Jo said. “You’re amazing!”

Peter could feel his face flushing. He wasn’t sure how to take this newfound praise. Music wasn’t something he’d considered being good at: only enjoying. Loki was smiling at him.

“Do you think you have another one in you?”

“Umm...” Peter took the CD case, looking at the back. “Well... Maybe one more”

Jo Jo stepped closer, looking at the listing. Peter grabbed his drink and took a few mouthfuls, his pulse thumping in his throat.

“What about this one?” Jo Jo said, pointing.

Peter was quiet for a moment. “I’ve played it quite a lot, so... Ok. But it’s the last one”

“Ok! You give a good show, little guy”

Peter swallowed, turning back and finding the right track on the CD player. He took a deep breath, and looked at Loki.

“You’re not just humouring me, right?”

“Now, sweetheart, when have I ever been known to do that?”

Loki was generally straight to the point, so Peter nodded. He still felt pretty nervous, but this next song was a good five minutes long, and Peter was confident in his ability to play it. It was nice playing piano outside of a St Hendricks practice room, anyway, so he may as well make the most of it. He pressed play on the CD player, grateful for the couple of seconds lag which gave him time to ready himself.

“What happened here? As the New York sunset disappeared, I found an empty gard-en, among the flagstones there. Whooo lived here? He must have been a gardener that cared a lot, who weeded out the tears and grew a good crop. And now it all looks strange. It's funny how one insect, can damage, so much grain...”

Loki felt like he was watching someone completely different. He felt, strangely, that this was someone he’d never seen before - but at the same time, it was also so undoubtedly his son. These words, the way they spilled from the boys mouth, and the way his fingers danced on the ivories...

“...And we are so eh-mazed, we're crippled and we're dazed. A gardener like that one, no one can replace. And I've been knocking, but no one answers. And I've been knocking, most all the day. Oh, and I've been calling! Oh, hey hey Johnny! Can't you come ouuut to play..?”

Loki had always known Peter was deep and expressive, but this - watching him - was so much more than that. The power the small boy was throwing forth, the determination, the feeling, the pure skill, was incredible. How had he overlooked this talent? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, but he was. It was obvious Peter was trying to stay true to the original, but even so, his own styling was coming through - as was the extent of his voice when he sang with confidence.

“...OH, and I've been calling, oh, hey hey Johnny! Can't you come out, can't you come out to play? Johnny, can't you come out to play, in your empty garden..?”

Tony looked at the people round his table. It was incredible how he’d overlooked just how many of the people he worked with - well, that worked for him - were family men. The topic of conversation seemed to have turned to that. Someone had recently had a baby, and so many other had pictures of their children as their phone backgrounds, and they were all sharing and showing.

“Tony?”

Tony glanced at Pepper, not saying anything. He was grateful for his phone going off, as it gave him an excuse to look away. He opened the message. It was from Loki; a video, simply captioned; ;A;

Tony turned his volume up, hesitated, and then opened the video. He was surprised to see Peter sat in front of a piano. For a moment, he didn’t know what was going on, as the video was too long for it to be some sort of anecdote. But then Peter pressed a button on a CD player, readied his hands on the keys, and began to play - and sing.

“Is that your kid?” Someone asked, muscling in on his side. “Oh cool, I didn’t know he was musical”

Tony didn’t say anything. He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. He’d heard Peter sing before, but not like this. And since when could he play the piano?? He was vaguely aware of people babbling, and some crowding round to look at what he was watching.

Tony knew this song. He remembered Peter making him listen to it and then rambling about it, asking if he knew it was a tribute to John Lennon, and talking about how it made him feel. Tony’s heart was thudding, but he wasn’t sure why. He could tell that Loki had filmed it without Peter knowing. He went to stop the video, but Pepper stopped him. Tony watched the video play out till the very end, where the camera went shaky and stopped as Loki hugged Peter.

For a few moments he was silent, listening to everyone who had seen and heard the video praising his sons voice and playing, praising his talent, asking if he had plans to go big...

Tony looked at Pepper. “...I made that”

“What? Why would Loki send-” Pepper looked at Tony properly. “...Can I borrow you outside for a moment?”

The corridor held that familiar strange atmosphere of every empty hallway outside the room of a big event: dim, and echoing, and a little hazy. Pepper took Tony over the other side of the hall, away from the noise of the main hall. She put a hand on his arm.

“Give me your phone”

Tony did as he was told. Pepper found the video again, and hit play. Tony tried to grab his phone back, but Pepper wouldn’t let him; making him listen and watch again. Once the hallway was once again filled with heavy silence, she gave him his phone back.

“What did you say?”

Tony looked at his phone. He clicked the side button, looking at his lock screen photo.

“...I made that”

“Tony”

He looked at her.

“Tell me”

“We did a test...”

There was a pause.

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday”

“Then why are you here, and not with him?”

Tony took one last look at his phone, and then put it back in his pocket. He leant against the wall, trying to stop his heart from thumping so furiously; trying to breathe steadily, and trying to keep the tears from forming in his eyes.

“Tony, look at me”

Tony didn’t. “I feel... I don’t know. Like an idiot, I guess”

“Do you remember the mother?”

Tony hesitated, and shook his head. Pepper sighed. Tony swallowed, shifting uncomfortably.

“...Are you surprised?”

“Tony, I spent years as your PA” she said. “I’ve shown countless women the door - and that was just the ones you actually brought home. I’m not surprised you don’t remember her”

“No, I mean... Are you surprised he’s... That I’ve got a kid? Like, biologically?”

“Faulty contraception is rare. It’s never something I considered, and, to be honest, if I was going to happen, I would have expected it long before now” she said. “So yes, I am surprised. Even though I’d always seen the resemblance between you two. I just put it down to coincidence”

Pepper waited for Tony to respond, but he didn’t.

“What does this mean? What are you going to do?”

“...I don’t know”

“What do you want to do?”

“Get drunk”

“And what are you actually going to do?”

“...Go to bed”

“I’ll walk you up”

It was a quiet walk up to Tony’s hotel room. Tony thanked Pepper, and just before he closed the door, he looked at her properly for the first time that evening.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Of course not” Pepper said. “Trust me. I’m not telling anyone”

Peter sighed and set his phone down. He’d called Tony five times in a row, with no answer. He supposed it was getting kinda late - maybe he was in bed. Peter knew he should be calling it a night, too. After the friction of the first part of the day, Peter had had a good afternoon. They’d gone for another walk, and then had tea in a nearby bar/restaurant. They’d spent an hour or so playing card and board games when they got back, and then Loki had told Peter to have a shower and go to bed.

But, Peter had left his drink downstairs, so he went to get it - but paused on the stairs. He could hear Loki and Jo Jo talking, and they sounded serious.

“So what’s up, really?” Jo Jo said, flopping back beside Loki on the sofa.

“What do you mean?”

“With Peter” Jo Jo said. “I know everything blew over, but something was definitely up this morning”

“What does it matter? He’s better now” Loki said, sounding cagey.

“You’re off today, too. You haven’t been your usual self”

“You’re being ridiculous”

“I’m not. Don’t lie to me, Lokes. I’ve known you long enough to know when something’s not right. Come on, you can tell me”

Loki looked at Jo Jo. He was right; something was wrong. Loki knew him well enough to know he could be trusted - and Loki just had to tell someone. He was usually ok with keeping things to himself - or just within the family - but this was different. It had been praying on his mind all day...

Peter wasn’t surprised. He didn’t feel great about it, but he understood why Loki had told Jo Jo. Whatever they might all be thinking and feeling, Peter knew that there was no way this was going to stay secret forever, whether he liked it or not. He wasn’t sure yet. But all of a sudden he didn’t need his drink anymore.

He crept back up to the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. He crawled into bed, pulling his toy seal close and resting his head on it. He felt ok. He knew he should make the most of it while it lasted.

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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early20thcenturynerd · 5 years

Photo

“Margetta Hirsch Doyle ’45 was a regular student at William & Mary. Her friends called her ‘Getta’ and she was a Kappa Delta. Doyle kept a diary and wrote about her philosophy quizzes, described how much she enjoyed making Red Cross surgical wrappings and mentioned hours spent spotting airplanes from campus buildings. Doyle was a student during World War II.

During the second World War, William & Mary became a predominantly female campus. While many college-age males fought abroad, women kept up the war effort from Williamsburg. In between their studies and social life, students volunteered with the Student War Council and the American Red Cross. Along with other service work, they, like Doyle, made surgical dressings and spotted airplanes, sometimes in groups and sometimes alone.”

Margetta Hirsch Doyle’s Entries for September, 1943:

SEPTEMBER 1

Mother roused us early since Beth and Kay had to go to work - Lou and I trailed sleepily after them. “Goodbyes” were said and Lou and I with Mother, talked and talked about how to improve KΔ. It was much the same stuff, but with new ideas. We finally managed to dress for a late lunch at the Chinese restaurant in Jamaica and seemed to stuff ourselves. Louise hopped a subway and Mother and I met Herbert (a date - hey! Even if he is just 13) and saw “Hers to Hold” with Deanna Durbin and Joseph Cotton (Ah! Such a man!) and “Crime Doctor” with Warner Baxter at the Valencia. Letter from Danny saying she and Fred have made up. I’m so very glad! Nana came this evening.

SEPTEMBER 2

So lazy! I drooped in bed reading and dreaming till it was well nigh noon and my guilty conscience forced me into a more active life. Once I was up I drooped some more and got out my “old faithful letters” to pore over again. They’re all so “cute” and ego-bolstering. Reading them over I can ignore the intervals between, and toss off the carburetor ones as unimportant. Such nice boys! Dad came out, still feeling rotton - and contemplating the date of his operation. Pat called - gave me a message from Bell that he’s rooting for me to go to Hamilton the 11th. Gee, I’d love it, but Mother and Dad are very uncooperative. I spose they’re right. We invaded Italy’s mainland!!

SEPTEMBER 3

I’m beautified - or rather - attempts were made. At 9:00 a.m. Mother and I were down at Robert’s and my hair was going through the mechanisms necessary for a permanent. I was amazingly through in two hours - it looks fairly all right considering……….. Mother stopped at O.C.D. and then we had lunch at the Fish Grotto, And on home. This evening I went into the city up to Victor Chemical’s office to be shown around by Bugsie. We met Mr. Cotton, her boss and he gave us bourbon to sip. Stirred, we walked crosstown to Toffenetti’s where we met Ev for a crazy dinner. Such fun. Then a walk uptown to Radio City. We saw Cary Grant (Mmm!) in “Mr Lucky.” The stage show had no continuity but the Corps de Ballet act was super.

SEPTEMBER 4

The beginning of the Labor Day weekend. It doesn’t seem possible - my, how the summer has flown by!! Today was completely uneventful and unexciting. I drooped in bed once more till just before time for Daddy to come out. He brought cake as usual. The rest of the afternoon was spent in listening to the Dodgers-Giant's game which the Dodgers won in the seventeenth inning. I pored through old diaries and really laughed at them. Admittedly I’m still rather dramatic and I do exaggerate - but - Gad when I was a Senior at St. Mary’s I really laid in on thick. Such gushing! I really ought to turn over a new leaf. I called Bugsie, Joanie and Pat Brennan.

SEPTEMBER 5

I roused myself from my lethargy to be ready when Aud called for me to go to church and communion. The sermon was quite good: cooperation in order to have World Peace. I came home feeling real holy for a change. This afternoon Bugsie came by to laugh over old diaries with me and talk about things in general. Then she and I walked back to pick up Irene - and so a trek to Tildemann’s for gooey calorie-filled sundaes. Our conscience bothered us but we enjoyed them anyhoo and sat smoking and listening to the juke box discussing the Reader’s Digest statistical conclusion that after the war 7 out of every ten girls will be old maids. Cheerful prospect! Gee things are bad enough without thinking of that.

SEPTEMBER 6

Happy Labor Day! and it was quite happy too, considering - this morning we revived the matter of this next weekend, which had been sort of lying dormant till then and Mom and Dad said I definitely couldn’t go up alone. There was little I could say and I spose I really see their point but I do want to go to Hamilton so very badly. We sit upon the idea of Bugsie’s going with me so I sent a special delivery to Bill and am keeping my fingers crossed till I hear. This evening after Dad left on the spur of the moment Mother & I hopped a bus and went to the Alden to see revivals of Clark Gable & Claudette Colbert's Academy Award Winner “It Happened One Night” and Ronald Colman in “Lost Horizon.” I wonder what my Shangri-La is!

SEPTEMBER 7

I slept late again, getting dressed time to meet Mrs. Brennan and Pats. We went into N.Y. to see “This is the Army” the Technicolor movie version of the army show. It really was terrifically good - the music, acting, vague plot to connect the two wars and color were all grand and I enjoyed it as much as, if not more, than any other picture in a long time. After the movie we went into Dempsey’s and sipped cocktails, and then they came home with us for dinner and to talk and reminisce and plan for awhile. They’re real nice people - I like 'em good inspite of everything. I heard from Dossie and Eddie Damm - also a sweet letter from Freddie enclosing a picture of the girl to whom he’s engaged for me too see!

SEPTEMBER 8

A nice day! I met Lou at Roosevelt Avenue just before twelve and then on to New York to mosey around Lord & Taylor’s trying to get decorative ideas for improving the KΔ house but things were too extreme for our collegiate ways! Then we went to the Gypsy Tea Room for lunch and to have our fortunes told - very interesting! After that we went to the Ambassador theater and saw “Blossom Time” - music costumes and acting were swell - good show about Schubert’s life and music. I met Mother and Dad at Dempsey’s for dinner and sat at the table next Jack and his two children. After that - back to the H.G.C. meeting at Jeannettes for gab - nothing exciting. Italy unconditionally surrendered to the Allies. Best news since the war began! Is victory nearer? I’m so glad!!

SEPTEMBER 9

Today started off pretty well. Mother and I went into New York and bought me my beauty of a red three-piece suit (The pockets on the other had been cockeyed!) and a cute black hat too; so I glowed with it all. We skirted the big Parade (opening 3rd War Bond Drive!), had a sandwich at the Milk Barn and then went to Robert’s where I had my hair shampooed and set (first since after the permanent!) We came home and Nana was here. Very bad news! Bill had tried to call me last night but I was out, as tonight he called again, and the result wasn’t too cheery. It seems there’s a convention in Clinton over the weekend and cause I hadn’t let him know sooner he couldn’t yet a room anyware. God I’m so disappointed. I’d wanted to go so badly. We talked for quite while and he seemed as disappointed as I. We haven’t really talked in so long, and it’d have been wonderful. Oh hell!

SEPTEMBER 10

I turned completely tragically dramatic and sobbed all last night so that this morning my eyes are just slits. I hadn’t really cried in ages and splurted forth all I’d saved up. Silly, but I really cleaned out my nasal passages! Mom decided to pacify me with a program of activity so we went into New York for a Chinese Lunch at the China Clipper and then went to the Roxy to see “Heaven Can Wait” with Don Ameche and Gene Tierney - very amusing and I liked it good. We went to Saks for a pair of jodphur pants - and then to Dr. Weiss for the usual. We met Dad at the Boar’s Head on Lexington Avenue and our mouths watered over good soft shell crabs. Glory came over late in the evening, and spent the night. We talked n’ talked - slept together in the double bed and were real restless.

SEPTEMBER 11

An active day! Fairly early, Bugsie and I dressed in our riding togs, and after meeting Cam, Aud and Irene we trekked to 188th St. and hopped on horses. At least the rest hopped but not having gone in over two years, I was more or less shoved on by an innocently obliging bystander. Once we started posting and cantering through Cunningham Park however it was wonderful and the ride a beautiful one. Irene fell off to lend excitement. We went back to Glory’s for lunch and chatted awhile; then, this evening rather unexpectedly, Glory, Aud, Irene, Cam, Edith and Jean all came in, and we howled hysterically over old diaries of Aud & Irene revealing their “supreme thrills” of grammar and high school days. Jean’s baby’ll arrive the end of February supposedly - it doesn’t seem possible. Anyhoo, the evening was fun!

SEPTEMBER 12

Limping and nursing sore aching muscles, Aud and I practically dragged ourselves to St. Gabe’s this morning and squirmed on the comparatively hard wooden seats. Mr. Condit is back for his first service of the new year and is really a marvelous rector. Mr. Judd has accepted an offer at Christ Church outside of Philadelphia, and will leave St. Gabe’s the end of this month. After church we stopped at Glory’s for a few moments and then home. Mother, Dad and I to celebrate the lifting of the pleasure driving ban, drove to the Triangle restaurant for a good dinner - and then home again! The Germans have occupied Rome and Italy and Germany are now fighting - the quirks of alliances of warfare. Our forces are fighting too and Italy’s surrender isn’t as optimistic as first thought.

SEPTEMBER 13

Yesterday morning’s muscle weariness was eased by a lovely mail today. I heard from Bill Boyd - back from maneuvers and writing again at last. He's still waiting for his transfer orders to the Air Corps, and wrote a long perkish letter while waiting. Then - Floyd - till in San Francisco - wrote a wonderfully philosophic gem expressing his emotions on going overseas. It was really good! This afternoon Mother and I went to the Valencia to see Merle Oberon and Brian Aherne in First Comes Courage (the usual spies-and-commandos-in-Norway stuff) and Donald O’Connor in Mr. Big - a cute jitterbug job. Tonight, Glory, Aud and I went bowling and had a stupid old time again. I bowled 78 - an improvement over last time - but not too good! I blame it on my muscles.

SEPTEMBER 14

This morning was dedicated to a series of “friendly discussions” before I went into the city to meet Cary, back from her two week’s jaunt in Kentucky, Annapolis, Washington, etc. We talked a blue streak to catch up on what had passed in the meantime. Two friends of hers were there from Annapolis. We had a sandwich next door; they left and we spent the afternoon trying to pick up Cary’s bags at Penn Station. I met Mother and Dad at the China Clipper for dinner and talking and so on home. Confusion! I got a special from Bill Brennan enclosing another letter he’d sent me -- addressed correctly -- but which had been returned to me. If I’d gotten that letter in time, the room situation could have been cleared up and I might have gone to Hamilton. Damn the post office!

SEPTEMBER 15

An emotional day! It was cloudy, so we couldn’t go on our boat trip as planned. Instead Mother, Louise and I went to the music Hall to see “So Proudly We Hail,” the epic of the bravery of the army nurses on Bataan and Corregidor. It was powerful! The stage show Minstrel Days was quite good too, though different from the usual Radio City ones. Louise and I met Cary on 29th Street at 4:30 went to the Little Church Around the Corner to see Marty and Tommy, married. We stood and beamed and felt quite parental as we shook our heads, saying it doesn’t seem possible! though we knew they’d really been planning it for ages. They’re both swell. Lou and I came home on the 5th Avenue bus to Jackson Heights. Tonight Mother & I went over to Thompsons to see Jack & Margie. They’re going to Eustis!

SEPTEMBER 16

I should have left for Billsburg today but am extremely grateful for the extra week at home. Excitement came this morning when the radiator leaking from my john made the downstairs hall look as though it had been blitzed. What a mess! This afternoon mother and I went over to Jersey, stopping at Aunt Bert’s and then at Aunt Fan’s. I saw Ruth’s two-year old baby Gail and loved her immediately. She’s a darling! The afternoon was pleasant - tending towards the crazy. We then went over to Brooklyn and met Dad for dinner at the St. George, and so home in the downpour. Nana was here. After awhile I went to bed and dove into the new Good Housekeeping.

SEPTEMBER 17

Once again we’d planned on going 'round Manhattan Island in a boat, but once again it kept raining instead. So I went into Brooklyn (riding on the train with Mrs. Ingold) and met Dad for lunch. It was the first “date” we’d had in ages so we kind o’ talked as I munched on my shrimp curry. We hopped a subway and went back to the office for awhile, stopping to buy stockings on the way, and I generally messed up his business day. It was fun and executivish though! This evening I went over to Glory’s and peeked at the preparations for the shower she gave for Doris De Brodt Deane; and then Mother, Lizzie and I went to see “The Student Prince” starring Everett Marshall. It was very good - another of the epidemic of operetta revivals!

SEPTEMBER 18

“London bridges falling down….. Falling down…..!” Where we had Niagara Falls in the downstairs hall, the plasters are today pulling the whole darned business down, till the ceiling lies in chunks on the floor and dust from it floats throughout the house choking us off as we try to breathe. Ah! for the well-ordered peace of a boiler factory! This morning Mother and I went to Jamacia to buy last minute powder puffs, toothbrushes and emory boards, and pick up a pair of moccassins and a pair of black non rationed shoes, which I treasure as a good bargain. We were s’posed to go to Connie Korn’s wedding today, but being the last weekend home and all, we didn’t, so I thought hard about her instead. And so have two KΔs bit the dust in the same week!

SEPTEMBER 19

The last Sunday at home! Aud and I went to St. Gabe’s where Rev. Condit preached with a voice which kept failing him on account of a cold - the service was usual We had roast lamb for dinner and then discussed the pros and cons of driving down to Billsburg with Marjorie Thompson since Jack needs the car at Eustis. It would be exciting to take a long auto trip legally in gas ration days but it might be complicated too. I think we’ll do it though! Afterwards, Glory and Aud came over and we trekked to Tiedeman’s for sodas; rehashing the problem of “So Little Time - and so much to do - and so many friends to want to be with.” Dad should have gone into the Waldorf for a convention (W.S.J.A.) but stayed here instead. - I wrote Danny, Colby, Bill & Bill.

SEPTEMBER 20

A lovely mail, being as how I heard from Bill Boyd (enclosing a cut cartoon from Yank, the army newspaper) whose transfer orders have come through, but who doesn’t know where he’ll be sent yet! Then too, I got another real nice letter from Bill Hughes - still in Australia! This morning, I went to the dentist for a checkup and for the first time in really ages, I have no cavities. My teeth have passed the adolescent stage! Then I moseyed around Jamaica, after which I came home and baked cookies (sending most of the better ones to Bill Brennan) Cary came out this afternoon and to spend the night - Glory and Aud came for dinner too (steak - how dreamy!) We hysterically played bridge, being interrupted by a blackout and then all walked Audrey home.

SEPTEMBER 21

Such a beautiful day! I woke early to keep my 9:00 a.m. dentist appointment and had my teeth cleaned till they sparkle. I hopped into riding clothes - saw Cary on her bus - and met Joanie for a wonderful ride in Cunningham Park. Peter Pan cantered like a streak of greased lightning and we flew along. It was really swell! Joanie treated me to a coke too and after awhile came over to the house to buy me a War Bond. (I’m crazy - I mean “sell” me a War Bond!) so I backed the attack! Mother and I went to Robert’s where I had my hair set for the final time, and then came home waiting for Nana’s arrival. Dad’s still at the convention. Surprise! Bill Brennan sent me 16 American Beauty roses with a really perky card enclosed. Gosh I’m so very thrilled!

SEPTEMBER 22

Being my last day at home, it was a busy-beaverish one. When I awoke, I wrote Bill Hughes and a perkish thank you note to Bill Brennan - also answered the letter which came from Corporal Eddie Damm. After that we packed suitcases and then drove over to take my ticket to Louise, stopping for a lengthy chat. We ate a Chinese lunch at a restaurant by the Queens Bors Hall, and then went to Jamacia and bought several pairs of pants and a pair of pajamas. Dad came out early and told us of his troubles a la business world. He’s really doing the job of three or four men plus the Post War Planning and National Bond, etc committee stuff he has to do. I went to a H.G.C. meeting and said “Goodbye” to all the girls.

SEPTEMBER 23

The official end to the summer and a real wonderful one it was too. Mother, Marjorie (both of her), Cary and I sent ourselves down in the ’41 Packard snuggled in with suitcases, boxes and the like. It was blissful to ride in a car after the years of gas rationing. We stopped on the road and ate a picnic lunch, which Aunt Bert had made. Most all the way, Cary and I burst forth into song and the time passed quickly. We reached Billsburg at 8:00 and had dinner at the Lodge - then, real excited - we came back to the house and saw everybody. Doggone, I do love it so good! It’s super being with all the gals - specially Beth and Punchy! So very much fun! A stupendously perky letter from Bill Boyd

SEPTEMBER 24

We slept and talked in bed still after ten really catching up on the news of each other’s summers. This morning Beth, Punchy and I went downtown to buy grapefruit juice for improvised breakfasts of the future and to look into the bank account and cafeteria book situation! I met Mother and Marjorie for lunch and spent the evening with them too. I wrote postcards and read Life and the Saturday Evening Post. I met Chuck Gondak and talked familiarly with him for quite awhile. He wants Punchy and me to work for the telephone co again this year at the U.S.O. It’d have been fun but we’ve got too much else to do. Fun tonight in the room!

SEPTEMBER 25

A busyish day! This morning I tiptoed around not to wake the fair roommates as I dressed for my 8:20 appointment with advisor, Dr. Marsh. Surprisingly I had no conflicts and am now officially taking Money & Banking, Statistics, Accounting, Marketing Principles & Problems, Introduction to Business Enterprise and General Psychology plus gym of course. It sounds kind o' stiff but after all, I’ve come to college, essentially to exercise my gray matter. I spent the morning with Muggy Pratt and trying in vain to locate my trunk - I still have no shoes - and ate with Beth & Punchy at the dining hall - this evening I went to the Lodge with Mother and had dinner. Hell! Wouldn’t you know! Bill Hughes wrote me from Boston - he wanted to come see me in New York this weekend. Two days too late!!

SEPTEMBER 26

Sunday, and a busy one too! This morning we trekked over to Chandler and picked up our little sisters to take them to Bruton - mine, Gin Tunstall, is darling! After the service, we went to the dining hall for the traditional southern fried chicken and ice cream - and then back to the house to prepare for the influx of freshman girls making a tour of the sorority house. The same things were said over and over again - with slight variations of course, and our jaws aching from smiling sweetly as we said them and as we listened. It was fun, in a boring sort of way. Beth, Punchy and I went to the Lodge to meet Mother for dinner. We laughed a lot and were most unsophisticated.

SEPTEMBER 27

School bells chimed again and I am officially a Junior - it’s so impressive being respected for a change! I only had three classes. Dr. Foltin stood us up for Psych and after standing around in the hall for awhile we left for the Wigwam to buy books. I became nasty when I discovered I had to pay $24 for beatup secondhand books too. Marketing sounds fascinating - full of merchandising and advertising, the sort of stuff I want. Rhythms only lasted five minutes, which was a lovely sort of gym class. Mother came to the house this afternoon and offered ideas on redecorating our room. It sounds dreamy! May they materialize! There was a W.S.C.G.A meeting tonight with the usual welcomes & news about a German Club dance for the A.S.J.U. boys. House meeting afterwards and then bull sessions about rushing and sex

SEPTEMBER 28

Right about now we’re in a mad dash of enthusiasm - we’re all out for studies, all out for extracurricular stuff, and all out for improving the house, and KΔ in general. Such a busy little year as it’s gonna be! Money and Banking, Business Enterprise, Statistics and Accounting all involve scads of work and I groan under the weight of it. Oh, for just one snap course - it’d be so refreshing! Mother, Holly Miller and I had dinner together at the Lodge and then I went to the Flat Hat Business Staff meeting. We were assigned ads to get so I will merrily trek around town having people sign contracts and pay money - I hope! We get commissions too. Sorority meeting, though informal, was inspiring in its plans. I hope the spirit lasts! Letter from Edith and Evie

SEPTEMBER 29

A busy day, with classes from nine till 4:30P.M. with time out to see Mother off on the morning train. It seems odd not to have her around anymore. Classes were still interesting except for Statistics lab which really is a stinker. If it weren’t required for my major, I’d gladly toy with the idea of dropping it, but grin 'n' bear it, say I. At 5:00 Beth, Punchy, Lou and I went to a Social Committee meeting for the War Work at college, where plans were made for various affairs to be given for the chaplains, their assistants, etc. After a cone at the Wigwam we watched the review of the A.S.J.U boys out on the football field. It was impressive - a far cry from the football rallies of a year ago. This evening, Midge and I went to chapel at which Dr. Foltin spoke and then I came home, washed my hair, did homework and went to a house meeting.

SEPTEMBER 30

Such a rainy day - I’ve never been so wet - honest! Life perked up though when Mr. Nuguist decided to make our introductory approach to statistics more simple and when I discovered that I like accounting a lot. We walked in the pouring rain to dinner across campus and were drenched to the skin. After our good vegetablish dinner we waded through the flooded paths with the wind blowing the rain in streams upon us to the Colonial Echo meeting - and got ourselves on the Editorial Staff. We were supposed to go to a Big-little sister party in Barrett but by then water was seeping through our rubber boots even and we gave ourselves alcohol rubdowns instead. A letter from Dossie and a card from Bill Boyd from Kansas City “en route to Mississippi”

#1943 #1940s #history #diary #diaries #journal #William & Mary #long post #margetta hirsch doyle

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nevaryadl · 5 years

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MMMMMMM jatana

Ngl I really miss the jatana shipper that was camped out in my ask box for a few weeks :(

1. Who kissed the other first? Kitana. Jade had just finished putting her face on and turned to ask her something and Kitana was just overcome with thousands of years of love and kissed her. Jade just smiled and kissed her back.

2. What was their first fight about? They were arguing over a policy that Kitana was trying to place as Kahn. Jade thought it was too short term and Kitana thought that it fine as it was. Not really a fight but they got a bit heated over it.

3. Who sleeps in the couch more often? Neither, they want to sleep together at night and snuggle. Even if they happen to sleep apart for whatever reason, they have a bed for a reason and they are damn well gonna use it.

4. Who drinks coffee and who drinks tea? They both prefer tea, coffee is a bit much for either of them. Kitana likes her a bit weak and plain while Jade likes her sweeter and stronger.

5. Who goes grocery shopping more often? Some of these are really not for MK characters. But they go together, it’s a cute way to spend time together and they can buy sweeties together.

6. Who brings breakfast in bed? They take turns, they love love love to pamper one another. Sometimes they like to try and race one another to do it and then just bang around the kitchen having a good ol time.

7. Who sleeps first? Kitana passes out good and hard the second her head hits the pillow, so chances are its her.

8. Who watches the other sleeping? They both do. They both are light sleepers for survival reasons, so if they get woken up in the middle of the night, they usually look to the other for comfort. Seeing the other’s sleeping face usually gives them peace of mind to fall asleep.

9. Who met the parents in law first? As far as I know mk keeps doing this ‘Jade’s parents are a mystery~~~’ bullshit so what can we do? Jade met Sindel first, Sindel adores her of course and loves that someone that loves her daughter so much fell for her.

10. Who does the laundry? They both do and they love doing it together. They especially love folding clothes and chatting with one another. They can also hang out in the laundry room and chat and laugh.

11. Who washes the dishes? Kitana actually likes doing the dishes. It gives her time to think by herself and she’ll talk to herself and try and hash out issues she’s having as Kahn.

12. Who clean up the house? They do this together again, taking turns doing certain chores and such. They like to divide up the work and plus they can be goofy together and spend time with one another. Kitana likes to move the furniture to sweep to show off the MUSCLES to the wifey.

13. Who washes the car? These two... owning a car????

14. Who brings take outs? I’m going to assume that in this context with this ship, it’s Outworld street vendor food

15. Who calls the other to ask if they want something from the street? WHAT DOES THIS QUESTION MEAN? WHAT DOES THE STREET OFFER?

16. Who’s more likely to make plans? They take planning very seriously, they need plans to be perfect (and Jade wants to make sure that Kitana is not in danger because of her Kahn title).

17. Who dreams about a big wedding? Neither, really. Like they’ll do a big one for the public, but they dream of a low key and small and intimate ceremony with just the closest of friends and family. And then they don’t need to be super made up for it they can throw on comfy dress clothes.

18. Who breaks the cups? Kitana, usually she’s up super late and blindly grabbing at her drink and instead smacks it to the floor instead. She feels bad and cleans it up and buys new ones, Jade suggests wooden ones and it cuts down on messes.

19. Who holds the umbrella? Kitana likes too, but mostly because she likes when Jade holds onto her arm ‘all lady like’ or when she can slip an arm around Jade’s waist and tug her close.

20. Who takes the other to the dance floor? Both. They both love to dance but they really also love grabbing the other’s hand and taking them to the dance floor because despite loving to dance, they both love to lead. It’s a goofy ass bicker match every time.

21. Who does the big romantic gestures? BOTH. They love trying to find that one thing that makes the other clutch their heart and blush ear to ear so they’re always doing romantic things to try and find it.

22. Who’s more likely to serenade? Jade is the better singer but Kitana likes to sing more so she usually does.

23. Who forgets the wet towel in bed? They both do, mostly because they’ll come out of the bath together, sit down to discuss something. Go on until they’re dry and then leave their towels there to later, unfortunately, find.

24. Who don’t pick up things when they fell? Neither, they both have really good reflexes and catch most everything. If they do miss the grab, they will bend down and quickly pick it up, no leaving it around like a mess.

25. Who keeps losing the keys? They occasionally both lose keys but agility gives them the ability to climb up walls and into windows to get into the house.

26. Who sings the rap part? Jade because she sings better and can keep up.

27. Who pretends to be sad just so the other will cheer them up? Jade just needs the corners of her mouth to dip half a centimeter and Kitana will suggest baking fun to turn that frown upside down.

28. Who wakes up ready for a marathon? Kitana and Jade are both trained ot be wide awake as soon as they’re up, so they both would be, but the thought of excersizing in Outworld heat at the first light is UUGHHHH

29. Who buys them tickets for shows? Kitana and Jade both love performing arts so they buy each other tickets to shows and have date nights there. Kitana is admittedly a sucker for dark gothic romance plays and Jade is all for high power dance routines.

30. Who choose the movie? These two? Watching movies? idk Kitana would give into temptation and suggest some of Johnny’s movies. They both howl with laughter all night.

31. Who says ‘I love you’ more often? Neither, they both tend to say it a lot so there is no clear cut ‘this person says it more’.

32. Who keeps waving at people after they got engaged? Kitana while yelling ‘I’M THE LUCKEST LADY ALIVE! LOOK AT WHO SAID YES!!!’

33. Who uses the most ridiculous nicknames for the other? They both actually don’t use a lot of nicknames and they tend to be light and sweet when they do, so neither.

34. Who’s responsible for date nights? They like to take turns planning them. Kitana will do more fancier and tamer nights and Jade will do more high energy ones so sometimes it’s whatever mood their in that person does the planning.

35. Who wakes up one day and decides to stay in bed? If she can get away with it? Kitana. She lays in bed and ignores everyone. Jade, seeing the opportunity to sleep in, just snuggles up next to her and refuses to move.

#mk #mortal kombat #jatana #Jade (Mortal Kombat)#Kitana (Mortal Kombat)#fluff #Anonymous

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gerbiloftriumph · 4 years

Photo

Captive Crown

(also on ao3)

Someone wanted the newly crowned King of Daventry and all his friends dead. Someone got close, once.

(warnings for the whole thing: kidnapping, bruising, starvation, nightmares, healthy dosage of angsty musing, sicfic, story-coherent vehicle for all my favorite ch2 headcanons)

~*~*~

4/7

(1: to steal)(2: to hide)(3: to seek)(4: to find)(5: to break)(6: to mend)(7: to heal, and to end)

~*~*~

It started with a dry cough early in the morning. Hardly more than a tickle. Graham sipped water from the rose fountains and cleared his throat, but it wouldn’t stop. It wouldn’t normally raise much thought, but he was sneaking around in places he wasn’t supposed to be sneaking. He held his cloak against his mouth to try and stifle the sounds while he was deep in the back tunnels, not sure who might be listening. Annoying, but manageable.

He scrambled through pipeworks and scraped through narrow gaps, hunting for anything that could help them escape. And he found bolt cutters. Half sunken in moldering porridge oozing from a broken pipe, but…bolt cutters. It was almost too perfect. He paused before fishing them out. This didn’t feel like a trap. It felt like a trap that had already been sprung.

He was being paranoid. He was being silly. But, as Graham looked at the broken pipe, at the bolt cutters, at the chair someone short had clearly stood on to reach the pipe’s suspension chains, something prickled the hair on the back of his neck.

Someone had intentionally stopped the food. To starve him and his friends. Kill him. That someone hadn’t expected the goblins to get bored and let Graham out, or else they would have taken this tool, this key to freedom, with them. They were careless in their certainty of victory.

And, with a sick twist in his empty stomach, Graham’s suspicions became just a little clearer.

Distracted, he didn’t notice his cough becoming more frequent as he stumbled back into familiar prison paths with the bolt cutters hidden in the folds of his cloak. Didn’t notice the cough starting to sound wet as he freed Bramble and Wente. Didn’t notice the ache cutting into his throat as he and Bramble stumbled out into the city to find help, alarm bells chasing them down the tunnels.

But now he sank against the wall of some goblin house in some hidden side street, trying to breathe as another coughing attack consumed him. It could no longer be ignored. Something was wrong with him, and it was getting worse.

Bramble glanced at him. “Majesty, that really doesn’t sound good. We should stop and rest.”

“No, no,” he said, waving a hand, staring fixedly at the uneven stones beneath his boots rather than at her, sure she would see guilt on his face if he looked up, his fear that they were going to be caught because his coughing was too loud, unstoppable. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” His voice was tight against yet another outbreak. “It’ll clear. We’ll get hot tea. Once we’re home.”

“Some soup wouldn’t go amiss right now either.” Bramble pressed a hand to her belly.

He nodded blearily. His knees sort of gave out a little bit, and then a little bit more, and then a little bit more again. He sank down the wall slowly, cloak bunching around his ears, until he was almost sitting on the ground.

Bramble leaned against the wall above him and said cheerfully, “That’s it, that’s what we needed. You breathe easy for a minute, Majesty.”

“N-no, wait, I said we didn’t need to stop.” He started to struggle up.

She pressed on his shoulder. “I think the rest of you ignored that. May as well listen to the majority.” She frowned into the darkness. “The majority of me wants Wente, but I know he’s helping the others as best he can, the dear.”

“Bramble, I—”

“No, you stay put,” she said, pushing down harder. “I might be your subject, speaking technically, but I’m still older than you, and a Mother-To-Be, and that has to count for something. I can at least make orders when I can see matters of health and heart, and both are telling us to pause. We won’t be long.” She sighed and closed her eyes, smile a touch strained when she thought he couldn’t see.

Graham wrapped his arms around his knees and listened to the city. To the low murmurs and clatters of stone against stone. The clank of metal. The steady, faraway wash of the underground river splashing against the weird little underground dock where the mattress raft had been tethered. How many days ago had that been? No way to be sure, not yet.

Little glowing dust motes danced between the buildings. A kaleidoscope of colored fungi illuminated street corners and windows. He searched the skyline (caveline?), hunting for a glimpse of that tall structure he’d seen from the prison tower. Their destination.

They had to get to the goblin castle. They had to see the goblin king. That was the only way they could get all the villagers out safely, could make it back to the surface without pursuit or loss. He had to convince the king to free them, but how? Going in swords blazing wouldn’t be the right move, even if he had a sword or the strength to swing it. It would have to be words.

Yeah, right. Like that could ever work.

This wasn’t the first time they’d ducked into some forgotten side alley. They often hid behind buildings and stairs and in shallow dark spaces while they waited out goblins. The little stone-shielded citizens of this place tended to amble carelessly, meandering along the roads in packs. Some of them wore ragged fairy tale costumes. Tattered wolf ear headbands, or scraps of elaborate princess dresses, with battered wooden weapons more suited for make believe than actual combat strapped to their sides. But then again, the real, sharp spears were just as abundant.

Bramble had saved them half a dozen times by now. She somehow sensed goblins half a street over, well before Graham ever noticed. When he asked how she heard them from so far away, she told him that the sounds of their masks scratching against their armor sounded almost like that singing crackle bread gets when it starts to cool down after the oven. “It’s easy to hear since it’s one of my favorite sounds,” she had said. “Or it was a favorite sound. Now I rather like hearing Wente singing when he’s mixing something good.” She smiled shyly, ears going pink beneath her cap.

Now, Graham looked up at her. “Bramble?”

“If you’re about to tell me you’re sorry you dragged me here instead of Amaya again, I’m going to be very cross.”

“No, I, uh. Wanted to thank you. For being here. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“Don’t make me blush again, either.” She grinned, and he could see the determination in her shoulders, in her eyes. She wasn’t in great shape after the imprisonment, but she was still carrying herself in an undeniably Bramble sort of way. A mother (To-Be) scorned and ready to take someone to task with stern words and an open heart. Even after all this, she still didn’t seem to bear hatred in her, though it would have been well within her rights.

Maybe that’s what these story-loving goblins needed? Maybe some compassionate, determined angle with the goblin king was the best route to freedom. Maybe words could win. He would have laughed at the ideas starting to build up in his head, but it burbled into another cough instead.

He swallowed again, cursing that cough and praying that his gradually creeping dizziness was just the result of stress.

~*~*~

As it happened, it worked. He never would have believed it, and yet, it worked.

Words won the day. Compassionate words, hidden in the phrasing of a story. A story that Graham found he knew how to tell very well—a story about himself, and his fears and uncertainties, and the friends he made, and the support he needed. The goblin king bowed to him and his story, ever so slightly, and that—somehow, in this dark place ruled by fantasies—was enough.

~*~*~

The adrenaline of facing the goblin king sparked through Graham’s spine and made him stand straight again, but once the king had agreed to let all of the Daventry citizens go, Graham felt all the excitement ebbing out of him to be replaced with a strange ache that he was sure hadn’t been there before. From his shoulders to his back to his legs, he felt dizzy and distant.

To be fair, by his count he’d been shaken down for contraband at least six times by now. The ache in his legs wasn’t exactly surprising, considering the goblins’ method of shakedown was to literally turn him upside down while gripping his legs, and, well, shake.

“What should we do?” everyone asked. Graham answered as best he could, but his mouth was running on its own, with very little input from him. His hands trembled; he grabbed the hem of his cloak so no one would notice. Just another side effect of stress. Nothing to be concerned about.

He stood listening to them all argue about routes and directions and glare at their reticent goblin guides, and all the while he thought, “Huh. My hair hurts. That’s new.”

Finally, impatiently, the Merchant stepped forward. He was easily in the best shape of them all, and overjoyed to have a freed caravan and two unicorns back (The Other One had been captured, too, though no one had shown much interest in the poor thing and had let it wander uselessly). He barked commands and directed their steps and threw his generous gut around. Graham was more than content to let him at it, following at a lagging pace until they broke out of the tighter tunnels and were able to climb aboard the rattling wagon. They crammed into narrow spaces between empty boxes and expired and crumbling miraculous ingredients. Exhausted but too nervy to doze in case their guides turned back into jailers, the group anxiously watched rocks roll past for an eternity until they broke into the overcast, rainy, late afternoon of Daventry. The first breath of fresh, free air came with a gentle sigh of relief.

*~*~*

The shout came from across the river, and the merchant slowed the cart ever so slightly from its careening gallop to listen. The cry was thus: “Ho there! Good wandering merchant!”

“What did you just call me?”

Whoever it was across the river hesitated for a long moment. “Good...merchant?”

“Oh. Yeah, that’s better.” The merchant leaned back and punched Graham in the shoulder. “’Ho there’—ha, what kinda medieval establishment you runnin’ here?”

Graham had his hands pressed over his mouth, but not from coughing this time. After a second he breathlessly managed to mumble, “Did you have to take that turn like that?” His adventurer’s cap, found in the tunnels near the goblin castle, had slipped down over one eye, and he looked positively green.

“Oh, so sorry. I’d think that pregnant lady’d be the one with morning sickness, not a strappin’ young lad like yourself, but hey, whatever. Also, what do you expect when I’ve got a soggy lump of bread for a wheel and one sick goa—uh, unicorn—and no thanks to you. It ain’t no flyin’ carpet ride: you gotta anticipate a bounce or two.” He turned back to face the river, and shouted, “Whaddya want?”

“Have you seen our king anywhere? Or...er...anyone, I guess?”

Graham shuddered, swallowed, and drew a deep breath to answer the guard, but the merchant had a thoughtful look on his face. Before Graham could speak, the merchant leaned back and whispered, “Hey, your magistrate. Scaly lumps of eel guts fried in peanut oil and pickle juice.” Graham blinked, then clapped his hands back over his mouth, making horrible strangled noises. “Hey! You over there!” the merchant shouted, while Graham retched. “There’s a finder’s fee for getting your king and his merry band of villagers back to you, right?”

“A what now? Er. I mean. We don’t really have...yes, yes of course! Did you have an amount in mind? Do you accept frogs as payment? Maybe installments over the course of…er…several years?”

“Oh, shining stars,” Graham groaned through his fingers and pulled himself to his feet. “We’re all here! Here!” His voice cracked and couldn’t carry far. He waved, but he lost his balance and fell back among the boxes.

“King Graham? Is that you?” the guard craned his neck. “Gods, is it really you? Where have you been? We wrote your mother. Have you seen the others? We’ve been so worried. Poor Olfie’s been wandering for days looking! Even Acorn offered to go out. Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you okay? I hope I’m not overwhelming you again. I’m sorry. I am, aren’t I? Maybe we should write an addendum about this or something. I’m glad you’re back. That was you, wasn’t it? I’m pretty sure it was you. Hard to see in this rain. The water gets in the helmet dreadfully.”

The merchant sighed and glanced at Graham. “Well. I’m still gonna ask if I can get a small finder’s fee. Think of all the merch that went to waste. All the missed business opportunities! I deserve a little recompense, eh?” He paused. Graham frowned, clearly about to argue, and the merchant added cheerfully, “Leftover shrimp twice baked in orange yogurt sauce drizzled with chocolate.”

#King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #goodbye game signposts i'll miss you as i journey into melodramatic original sickfic territory #goblin appreciation blog #ch2 #fic'ing

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tortoisesshells · 5 years

Note

Top ships (Like boats. Those kinds of ships)

nonny, you know me so well!

this list is the list I made after somewhat careful considerationover lunch break, and, to save everyone a lot of handwringing, I stuck to museum ships or ships you can still see/work aboard. Therefor, this is subject to change at any one point in time,depending on where I’ve been recently, what part of my diss. I’ve been focusingon, and whether or not I think fictional representations of ships (real orotherwise) are fair game.

(1) Charles W. Morgan. mon amour. Definitely thefirst ship of note I saw, at the ripe old age of probably four (there’s someembarrassing family photos lying around somewhere of l’il baby jamesknoxpolkalying around somewhere). I’ve heard that scent is a really powerful trigger formemory, and, before she was extensively repaired by the Seaport around2009-2012(?), I swear, you could smell the whale-oil. Mystic Seaport runs a24-hour Moby-Dick readingmarathon aboard the Morgan -do you know what it’s like to be lying on the deck of the last wooden whalingship in the world, staring up at the stars at 3AM, listening to someone readChapter 96, “The Try-Works”, where Ishmael compares the Pequod to Hell and gets disoriented in the long night watch? It’snot very academic of me, but the sense of lineage, of being part of a long lineof stewards and travelers holding and passing on the Morgan gives me the chills. A+ ship, will read Moby-Dick aboard it again.

(2)HMS Victory. Avery Long Trip for your humble narrator. A Spring Break trip, so’s we’re allclear on what my priorities were in college. I stood on the spot where Nelsonwas shot, and teared up. Horatio Hornblower was my maritime history gatewaydrug, and it’s a short hop from Hornblower to falling ass over tea-kettle intothe RN during the Napoleonic Wars. Wanna know how many biographies of Nelson Ihad on my bookshelf by the time I was fourteen? Seven (7). Victory is huge and beautiful and everything my little pre-teen andearly-teen self had imagined a ship-of-the-line to be. Oldest ship of war stillin commission, anywhere! I don’t know what series of events would lead theRoyal Navy to do anything with a 250+ year old ship, but I sure as shit wouldread that fantasy novel.

(3)USS Constitution.Despite being a US American, I do not have the same attachment to the Constitution as I do to the Victory, but the Constitution has(1) a much cooler design, h/t to Joshua Humphreys for the diagonal riders(? mynaval architecture glossary is weaaaakkk as hell) and building a ship that wassturdy enough to withstand (some) cannon shot as well as not hogginghorrifically over the past 210+ years & (2) a surreptitious role asinspiring the Acheron inthe seminal Western philosophical text, Masterand Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003). Owns onereasonably bad-ass nickname, “Old Ironsides”*, has a long and kind of weirdhistory after her fighting days were over. Like the Victory, is still, technically, in commission - but, unlike the Victory, actually still afloat!* addendum re: “Old Ironsides” - Constitution isnormally on display in the Charlestown Navy Yard across the pier from a WWIIdestroyer, USS Cassin Young. Ihave heard tourist ask the poor NPS rangers if the Cassin Young is “Old Ironsides”. Twice.

(4)USS Constellation. Ondisplay in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor, and, for a very, Very, long time, allegedto be one of the sainted ~Six Original Frigates~ of the United States Navy (ofwhich I can only name five at any one point in time, because I always forgetUSS Congress existed,and that’s not even a comment on current US politics). One of my favorite bitsof drama in US maritime history, to be sure! For a long time, the Constellation on display in Baltimore was supposed to have been the one built in 1797, although that’s not actually the case! The ship on display was built at Gosport in 1854 … at the same time that the old frigate Constellation was dismantled for parts … some of which ended up in the new sloop Constellation. There was something hinky going on with the Navy’s books, iirc, too - I don’t think the Navy took the old frigate off the books, and just ended up keeping the new sloop Constellation under the old listing. There’s an apocryphal story I’ve heard that the subterfuge was because Congress would fund repairs but not the building of a new sloop which, while amusing, isn’t actually the case. Anyway, I love a good historical quandary, & the Constellation checks off a number of boxes! Bureaucratic sleight of hand! The perplexing weirdness of the antebellum Navy Department! Weird pissing contests about “which ship is older?”!

(5) SS John W. Brown. Apart from the righteous name (okay, so she’s not named for the John Brown, but for an early 20th century labor organizer, so solidarity forever! ahem), she’s one of two WWII Liberty Ships (out of 2500+ built, which is just … shit. The US built and launched the SS Robert Peary in under five (5) days just to make a point - there was a lot left to do before the ship was functional, but, you get the point?) that are still afloat & functional. As in, the engine still works. The ship still goes out once in a while. Which I have yet to go on, but, some day! Anyway, the point in all this is the John W. Brown is neat and one of my favorite museum ships because there’s literally dozens of WWII subs and other vessels, but the history of the Liberty ship - the Ford Model T of 20th century shipbuilding - is cool and generally under-appreciated.(5b - because I flip-flopped twice) SSV Corwith Cramer. Not an old ship (she’s older than me, only just), but my first real sailing experience. I don’t think anyone ever forgets the first time they realize they can’t see land, anywhere? That if you fall overboard in the night, and no one misses you, you will die alone and never be found? The first time you go aloft while underway, that electric, anticipatory feeling in your hands, muttering “three points of contact, three points of contact at all times” to yourself? My bunk was in a part of the ship called “Squalor”. I accidentally got grease pencil on my face. I didn’t sleep for over a day because I was so excited! to be there! (& also watch) I heard whales spouting somewhere in the dark late one night, and it was one of the eeriest, most extraordinary things I can remember. on revient toujours a ses premieres amours.

put “top 5” anything in my ask and i will answer ok go

#polkaknox talks #that maritime aesthetic #ask meme

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