#I made berry pies once and my friends loved it so much I used to bring some every week in high school | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nessinborderland · 3 years

Text

Between Apple Pies and Chocolate Cosmos (01)

Pairing: Aguni x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Character Study

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse. After that, he simply couldn't take you out of his mind.

Warnings: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Eventual Romance, Denial of Feelings, Slow Burn, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Notes: This was inspired by the wonderful @aghostsrantingcorner ask. For reference, there’s some things in this fic that were inspired by these posts by @hatterstan-shameblog. This will be 2-3 parts max. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse.

It was a rainy morning, and the Beach was as silent as you would expect after a night of deadly games and partying. He always took advantage of the silent mornings to have a walk around the place, breathe some fresh air, and – most importantly – attend to his garden.

He had started working on it soon after he and Takeru found the Beach, still in the early days when it was only them. He never saw a reason why he shouldn’t. Since he was stuck there for an indefinite amount of time – since he would probably die there – he might as well keep up with the only hobby that brought him some resemblance of peace.

So, he did it. Every single morning. It kept him grounded; reminded him of who he was.

His Eden – as he liked to think about it – was a medium-sized glasshouse near the kitchens, surrounded by land where he had replanted a variety of fruit trees and berry bushes that he had found around Tokyo. It needed some remodeling, but it was perfect as soon as he was done fixing the broken glass and built a system to expertly use the rainwater. He loved the place. Its variety of colors and smells, the silence, and – what made him the happiest – being able to watch the literal fruit of his labor grow.

It was his little piece of heaven in the hell he was trapped in.

Now, one thing about the greenhouse: no one was allowed inside the place beside him. Everybody knew it. It was not like anyone had any real interest in plants or vegetables but, still, people knew that that was his place. Even the old ladies responsible for the meals knew to not go inside; if they needed any ingredient, they asked him.

So imagine his surprise when he got closer to the glass walls of his greenhouse and heard soft singing coming from inside. It was barely audible, the tip-tap from the rain hitting the glass making it harder for him to understand any words. But he knew someone was in there.

His first thought was to barge in and kick out whoever was disrupting his garden. He could feel his anger grow as he stared at the blurred figure on the other side of the glass, messing around with his stuff. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside.

The air inside the greenhouse was warm, with light condensation already sliding down the glass walls. The intruder – a woman, he noticed – was with her back turned to him, humming a song that was more than familiar due to Takeru’s taste in music.

“... lay all your love on– ” you gasped as you turned to him, no doubt startled by his presence. The vase in your hands shattered as it hit the floor with a loud smash, and you let out another startled sound. You crouched to clean up the mess, a row of apologies already escaping from your lips. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, please don’t move while I–”

“You shouldn’t be here,” was all he said as he stood there, stoic and cold expression looking at you from above. Your face was vaguely familiar to him – like every other face at the Beach – but he knew nothing about you. He noticed when you froze and slowly looked up, locking eyes with him. He saw the exact moment you recognized him, eyes growing wide and mouth agape as you held broken pieces of clay in your hands.

“Aguni–”

“Clean up your mess and leave,” he mumbled as he walked past you to access the damage you had done to his greenhouse. He noticed how several of his previous empty vases were now occupied by small plants and flowers that he had meant to work on that morning. You had just done his work for him. And perfectly, he could tell. Or as perfect as he could expect from someone that wasn’t him. He felt his anger subside. “The chamomile is supposed to be planted next to the tomatoes,” he said as he started carefully removing the small flowers from the vases. “We have no need for tea here.”

“Hmm...I thought you were using those for medicinal purposes?” you hesitantly asked. He kept his back to you, focusing on the task at hand as he waited for you to leave. Leave, however, you did not. "I'm sure they could be useful if–"

"There are only two kinds of people here," he interrupted in a cold tone. "The living and healthy, and the dead. If you're wounded, you belong to the latter. The tomatoes, though, could use some–"

"But couldn't we start an infirmary here?" Your question made him stop what he was doing, and he raised a brow as he looked at you over his shoulder. No one interrupted him; ever. You clearly didn't notice his hard stare as you continued to talk, "We could use garlic and oregano oil for infections, and aloe vera for–"

"You shouldn't be here," he repeated, now in a tone slightly louder than he liked to use. You halted mid-sentence, the small smile on your lips changing into a frown. "I'm not repeating myself. This greenhouse is off-limits. Leave."

He gave you one last glance before focusing again on his task, listening as you gathered the broken vase. A whimper made him look back at you, watching as you stared at your bleeding finger, droplets of blood falling on the rich soil underneath you. He sighed before grabbing a roll of paper towels from a shelf above his head, turning to hand you one.

"Thank you," you said in a low tone as you accepted the help and involved the tissue around your finger, hissing from the pain.

Only then did he notice what that broken vase had been carrying. At your feet, in the middle of a small mountain of dirt, was a chocolate cosmos. It wasn't one of his flowers, he was sure of that. He had never even seen a live specimen before.

"Weren't those extinct?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widen at his question before you looked at him with a soft smile on your lips. He felt the tips of his ears get warm; why in the hell were you smiling at him?

"Mhm, I think so... You can still find them in captivity, though," you said as you gently picked up the reddish-brown flower. You looked at him for a moment before nodding to the table behind him. "Could I get another vase, please? It's just that she's been staying in a box since I got her and I just wanted to– oh, thanks!"

You smiled at him again as he handed you another small vase without a word. Aguni averted his eyes, focusing on your hands as you arranged the pretty flower in its new home. He felt... uneasy, is the word. His usual relaxing morning had been ruined by some random woman with a nice smile.

He didn't like that one bit.

"Well... I'm gonna go now," you awkwardly started as you made your way to the door, before stopping and turning around as if you forgot something. "Oh, by the way, did you...did you do all this?" you asked, gesticulating around you. He nodded once and you smiled again. "It's beautiful. Good job."

With those words, you finally left him alone.

Aguni was sure he wasn't just blushing in his ears now. His whole face was warm. He never had anyone compliment him on his gardening skills before. Yeah, Takeru told him several times he was good at it, but no one had actually shown interest. It made him feel some kind of way.

He shook his head and got back to his work. He could still enjoy his quiet morning before a council meeting if he was fast enough.

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

The sun had barely risen when he approached the greenhouse, a warm cup of coffee in hand while he whistled a tune that had been stuck in his head since he woke up. He hadn't even noticed you until he went to open the door, your voice making him jump slightly where he stood.

"You like ABBA too?" you asked from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder to stare at you. You were sitting under a tree not far away, that same nice smile on your face. You were holding something in your hands – something that he noticed was hot – as steam was visible in the chill morning air.

He felt his ears get warm again; damnit, he hadn't even realized that the tune he was whistling was the same song he had caught you singing the day before. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

You both stood there, clearly waiting for the other to speak first. He was never a man of many words, though, so he just nodded once in your direction before getting inside his greenhouse and closing the door behind him.

A knock on the door not long after made him roll his eyes. He walked away from his work table with a sigh, cursing at his lack of peace and quiet; all the man wanted was to drink his morning coffee in solitude.

"What?" he asked as he opened the door to find you there, holding something wrapped in paper in his direction. He had noticed the steaming thing earlier. "What's that?"

"I wanted to thank you," you said, almost stumbling over your words as you signaled him to take it from you. "It's a pie."

"A pie?" he asked slowly, raising a brow in distrust.

"Yes, apple pie," you sent him a small smile as you tried to get him to accept the baked good. When he just stood there, arms crossed, your smile fell. He almost, almost, made a move to grab your offer then. "Hmm, Mrs. Yamamoto from the kitchen lets me use ingredients sometimes to bake stuff, and as long as I clean everything after–"

"I don't eat breakfast," he interrupted, arms still crossed as he looked you up and down with furrowed brows. He was trying to understand your intentions towards him. What was your move here?

"Oh, but you should, you know?" you said in a raised tone. "It's the most important meal of the day! A-and this one was made with your apples, so I thought you would–"

"What do you want from me?"

Even though Aguni was a man of few words, he never had any problem being direct. When you just looked at him with big, confused eyes, he was even more weirded out by your manners. You were either being genuine or were a really good actress. He didn't know what made him more uncomfortable.

"I just want to... to thank you for the vase?" you hesitantly answered, arms lowering.

His hand snapped towards your arm before he even realized, suddenly aware that he did want that pie. However, a pained gasp made him release you immediately upon touching you over your jacket.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, secretly hoping he hadn't actually hurt you.

"I- I'm fine," you answered with a shake of your head. "It was just a small injury from yesterday's game."

"Let me see," he ordered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, and it almost made him backtrack and send you away. Why should he care if you were hurt?

Aguni was about to do exactly that when you gingerly extended your arm in his direction. He focused on your arm as his fingers lightly grabbed your wrist, pulling your sleeve up to show a burn mark roughly the size of your palm. It didn't look too bad, but he could see that you hadn't put anything on it.

"Come," he said as he gestured at you to follow him inside the greenhouse.

He worked fast as he prepared something that would help you with your burn. He didn't know much about medicinal plants, but he knew enough.

He gestured at you to sit on the table as he carefully applied a mix of aloe vera and oats to your injury with light feather-like touches. It was all done in silence until he heard a noise from you, something resembling a barely huffed laugh. He glanced up to notice you looking straight at him, that same damned smile on your lips. He quickly focused back on the injury, hoping you wouldn't notice his red ears.

"I thought I was part of the dead now," you said, clearly referencing what he had said the day before. He grunted with a shrug, now at all interested in talking about his change of ideals. "You know...I never thought you were the type," you kept talking, and he kept addressing your injury. "To like plants, I mean. This place is amazing."

"What type am I, then?" he caught himself asking. Not that he particularly cared about your answer, but curiosity got the best of him. You laughed at his words and shrugged.

"Hmm, I don't know... the type that punches tigers?" He had to control the will to smile then, hiding his face from view. "I really wasn't expecting tall, big, and stoic Aguni to be so good with plants. I'm pleasantly surprised."

His movements halted for a second as he processed your words. He was sure he was red all over his face now, damn you. He continued what he was doing before he could overthink your words too much.

"Never judge a book by its cover."

He cringed as soon as those words left his mouth. What a corny thing to say. He decided then that your burn was sufficiently covered in aloe, and immediately retracted his hands, turning his back to you as he cleaned his fingers and tried to get his blush under control.

"Hmm, I guess you're right…" you said as he heard you stand up. "Well, thank you again, for this." He nodded and grunted in acknowledgment without turning to face you. "And the pie is here, just in case you want to try it." You hesitated, "...Hmm if you don't want it, you can always give it to Last Boss. He- he caught me in the kitchens once and I promised to bake him stuff if he helped me clean up after. He doesn't talk much and he's kind of scary, but he's nice." He turned to you then, and the expression on his face might've told you that you were overstaying your visit, so you quickly rushed for the door. "Mm okay, bye!" you said as you sent him an awkward wave and left.

He wondered if you thought he was scary but nice.

»«»«»«

A piece of chocolate cake was left by his greenhouse the day after.

The day after that, a croissant.

The gifts were always accompanied by small notes written in pretty handwriting. Some were simple recipes; others were small facts about medicinal plants he knew nothing about. He kept them all, safely hidden in a can on his worktable. A week went by where he expected a new pastry or sweet to welcome him. And, without fail, there it was. He never saw you around though, in the mornings or throughout the day, which he found odd. He didn't even know your name, but he found himself searching for you throughout the Beach, or in the games at night. But he never saw you. He would've thought you were dead if it weren't for the consistent gifts you left at his door.

Now, he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a man for breakfast. He really wasn't. But after trying a piece of that apple pie, he saw himself devouring almost the whole thing. The same with the cake and the croissant. They were probably the best baked goods that he had ever tried. He was even more excited to start his mornings.

This morning, however, he arrived at the greenhouse to find nothing by the door. No box, no note, no wrapping. Nothing. He furrowed his brows, feeling disappointed, but quickly shrugged the feeling off as he got inside. Your pleasantries had to stop someday.

It bothered him, though. And he hated the fact that it bothered him. He hated the fact that he cared. He spent the day thinking about it. Thinking about you. Where could you possibly be? What happened? He didn’t even know your name. He didn’t know what bedroom you lived in, and it was driving him mad.

He had zoned out throughout the morning meeting, lashed out at several of the militants, and was now fully ignoring Takeru as his best friend went on and on about something he didn’t care enough to even pretend to be listening.

“Mori, hey!” His friend snapped his fingers in front of his face, forcing Aguni out of his thoughts. He stared at Takeru with a frown.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him.

“The first time all week that we’re having lunch together, and you’re quieter than usual,” his friend said, nodding at the plate of barely touched food in front of him. “You’re not even eating. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” he shrugged, stabbing a piece of roasted rabbit with his fork and taking a bite. He chewed as he thought of a good excuse. Takeru could be annoyingly perceptive when it came to other people’s emotions, especially his. “Just have a lot on my mind, that’s all,” he finally said.

His friend looked at him for a moment before setting his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on his palms. Oh no, he knew what that meant. He was about to be questioned to death.

"Are you in love?" he asked, a slight smirk on his lips.

Aguni choked on his own spit at the man's question, violently coughing as he vehemently shook his head.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he asked after easing his cough, throat burning, and eyes teary from the effort.

"Well let's see," Takeru started, hand raised as he prepared himself to make a list. Aguni instantly regretted his question. "You've been late to meetings almost every morning for the past week, you barely pay attention to anything I tell you and I'm pretty sure I heard you hum 'Lay All Your Love on Me' by ABBA the other day. I've never heard you do anything close to singing," Takeru said as he wiggled three raised fingers before raising a fourth. "And a little bird told me that they heard you talking with someone inside your garden house." The smirk on his lips turned into a grin as Aguni averted his eyes. "So, tell me; who is she? Or is it a he? C'mon, you know you can tell–"

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all he said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Takeru wasn't easy to fool, though.

"You know what, I know you're full of shit, but I will allow it," he said with a fork pointed in his direction. "For now, at least. Now it's dessert time!" Takeru licked his lips as he pulled a tray to the center of the table. "I've been wanting you to try this for days, it's delicious!" He opened the tray to uncover two perfectly sized individual pies. Not just any pies, either. Aguni knew exactly who made them.

"Where did you get this?" he blurted out, staring at the perfectly cooked pastries. Takeru looked at him with a confused look.

"Huh, the kitchen? Where else?"

"Yeah, but who made them?" Aguni pressed further, wanting an answer that would show him that you were actually alive. "Were they made today?"

"Uh, I would hope so, yeah. And I don't know who made them, old Yamamoto just said it was one of her helpers," Takeru retorted with a shrug. "They're amazing, though, you should try it."

Aguni almost felt himself sag in relief. If these were made today, that meant that you were alive. It also meant that you definitely had stopped leaving gifts at his door. He tried not to focus on how he felt a little hurt by it. It was not like you owed him anything, anyway.

He still couldn't stop thinking about you as he finished his lunch with Takeru. He hated to admit it, but he felt bad for how he had treated you when you first met. He felt like he owed you at least an apology, and – not like he would ever admit it to himself – he wanted to see you again.

He always went for a short walk after lunch before having to proceed with his duties for the day. He wasn't exactly surprised to find himself by the kitchens, peeping inside the large double doors to take a look – part of him hoping to see you there.

What he saw instead were the so-called Food Ladies, a group of old women that had taken upon themselves the important role of cooking for everyone at the Beach. They were now chilling and having their own meals after the lunch hour rush. He spotted Mrs. Yamamoto, the oldest of the bunch – that also happened to be the boss – leaning by the doors that led outside, smoking her usual cigarette. She spotted him too, with small dark eyes that made him want to run away. It was strangely similar to the way his grandmother used to look at him when he misbehaved as a child.

“Oi, boy, c’mere,” she called him before he could walk away. The laughs and conversations of the other women ceased immediately as he entered the room. They eyed him for some time, one of the old ladies elbowing another before whispering something he couldn’t hear. His brows furrowed; he hated all that attention.

“Mrs. Yama–”

“You have to learn how to control your militants, Aguni,” she said as soon as he got close enough. “Two of your boys were disturbing one of my girls this morning. God knows what they would’ve done to the poor thing if I hadn’t shooed them away.” He had to control his facial expression; was she talking about you? “That girl gets up before dawn to cook sweets for so many people in this godforsaken place, and that’s how they repay her?” The old woman shook her head, before adding, “The rude boy with the piercings on his face and the odd one with the katana. See to it that they don’t get close to her again, do ya hear me?”

He nodded once before turning to leave, anger already simmering inside him. He had the urge to use his fists on a very specific someone.

He found whom he was looking for on the roof, as he expected. Last Boss was the first to notice him, eyes going wide as Aguni power walked to the man next to him.

“...and Chishiya– oh fuck! What the hell?!” Niragi screamed as Aguni pushed him toward the edge of the roof before forcing him to lean over it.

He held the man by his collar, almost making him lose his balance and fall to his death. Part of him really wanted to let go. He knew what Niragi was capable of.

“What were you doing in the kitchen this morning?” he asked in a cold, emotionless tone. The younger man looked down before visibly gulping and staring at him with a furrowed brow.

“T- The kitchen?...” he asked back. Aguni took a deep breath before loosening the grip on his shirt, making Niragi yelp and grab his arm. “Look look, it was his idea to go there, I didn’t do anything!”

Aguni looked back at Last Boss, and the man raised his hands while shaking his head.

“He- he just followed me there, I didn’t ask him to come with me,” the tattooed man said, stumbling on his words. “If you’re talking about the old lady, she kicked us out, but we didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“The girl?” he asked through gritted teeth. He was starting to lose his patience. The younger men shared a look between them before Last Boss started talking.

“Y/N?” he asked for clarification. So that was your name. “We didn’t touch her. Niragi just took some pies and we left.”

“Is that so?” Aguni asked Niragi, the man still in his grasp. He knew what he was capable of, and he wouldn’t put it past Last Boss to lie for his friend. “Cause that’s not what I heard…” his fingers loosened once again around the man’s collar, making him tighten his grip on Aguni’s arm.

“Fine, fine, I- I might’ve teased her a little,” the man confessed. “But I didn’t mean to make her cry, and we left right after. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

Aguni considered his words for a moment, before pulling Niragi off the edge and pushing him to the ground. The man cursed something under his breath that Aguni preferred to ignore as he now focused on Last Boss.

“Do you know her last name?” he asked. The man shook his head. Aguni sighed; he would have to check Mira’s records if he wanted to find her room. “You both better stay away from the kitchens and from that girl,” he said, now keeping his stone-cold gaze on Niragi. “Is that clear?”

Both men nodded.

Without another word, Aguni left the roof.

»«»«»«

It was surprisingly hard for him to find your room.

Mira had immediately denied any access to her records, claiming invasion of privacy. Which it was; he would probably do the same thing if he was in her place. But he pressed on, and she eventually gave in, simply saying that you lived in the south wing of the Hotel, somewhere on the second level. He accepted the information and forced himself to ask around for you, as inconspicuously as he could. Surprisingly, practically no one recognized the description he gave of you, and no one knew your name. He was almost giving up when finally...

“Oh, Y/N?” a couple of young women said. “Yeah, she lives next door to us, room 237.”

He finally had your room number.

Aguni spent five minutes gathering the necessary courage to knock on your door, hesitating and almost leaving every time he lifted his knuckles against the door. He made a frustrated sound, annoyed with himself.

“You’re an idiot,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Hello?” someone greeted behind him. Aguni froze before looking over his shoulder. There you were. Dressed in shorts and a light jacket, hair in a braid over your shoulder, and a hesitant smile on your face, you looked pretty in his eyes. It really made him wonder if Takeru was right; he did have a crush on someone. “Hmm, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, uh- hey.” He cleared his throat as he realized he had been staring. He could feel his face getting warm. “Hm, how’re doing?” he asked, before grimacing. Ah yes, Morizono, very nice. You raised a brow as you looked at him for a moment.

“I’m... fine,” you answered with a hesitant smile. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes, I- I wanted to apologize,” he cringed at his stuttering. But there it was. Direct and clear. The fastest he could get himself out of this awkward conversation, the better. “I heard about what happened this morning with two of my militants, and I just want you to know that they won’t bother you again.”

“Oh, that was just a misunderstanding!" you say as you shake your head. "I was just talking with Mrs. Yamamoto about that. Nothing happened."

"That was not what I heard."

"No, no, I'm fine, they didn't do anything to me," you reassured him. "Niragi just… said some mean things, but Last Boss stopped him. Mrs. Yamamoto thought they were hurting me and I'm really sorry." You shrugged and gave him an awkward smile. "I just cry sometimes. I even went to talk with Last Boss about it, but I think Mrs. Yamamoto really scared him, 'cause he keeps avoiding me." You said with an awkward chuckle. "But I'm okay, really."

Aguni grunted with a nod, convinced that you were telling him the truth. Still, he wanted those two, Niragi in particular, as far from you as he could.

"If they mess with you again, let me know, all right?" You nodded at his request, and he almost had the urge to smile back at you. "Okay then," he said with a nod before making a move to leave.

"Hmm, did you enjoy today's pastry?" he heard you ask in a hesitant tone. He turned around, confused. There was no pastry waiting for him today. He said so to you, and your brows furrowed. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I left you something. Strawberry pie with a chocolate crust?"

"There was nothing when I got there," he said. There were butterflies in his stomach, though. You hadn't stopped baking stuff for him, after all.

"That's odd…" you said as you bit your lip, wondering what could've happened. "Well," you shrugged, "I'll make sure you get it tomorrow morning, then."

He nodded without a word and watched as you smiled at him before moving to open your door.

"How's your arm?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. You froze by the door for a moment before showing him your arm, skin looking much better than it was just a week prior.

"That aloe mix you gave me helped a lot. Thanks, again," you said with another one of those smiles that made him want to smile back.

"You know…" he hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying what he meant to say, eyes on your feet, "If you ever want to, you can show up by the greenhouse, sometimes. There are these new seeds I got that might interest you. I don't know, but the offer stands."

He shrugged, like what he just said meant nothing. He finally focused on your face, and his stomach did somersaults as he found you grinning at him.

"I would like that very much."

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

And the next. And the next. And the other one after that. Always with a smile on your face, always carrying a new sweet that you would both share.

The first days were as awkward as you could imagine. He almost feared looking you in the eyes, feeling like a teenager again with all the blushing and weird sensations in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a smile from you to look as red as one of his tomatoes.

At first, you would eat in silence, until you eventually broke it by mentioning something about plants, or what flowers you were expecting to bring the next time you went scavenging. Then it would be just you doing most of the talk as he stuffed his mouth with whatever deliciousness you had brought him that day, nodding, and grunting on occasion. He realized he liked hearing you speak. Hearing your voice.

Then he would start working on whatever he had planned the morning before, and that's when you would watch him as he went around his garden showing you things. You would give him ideas from time to time, always following him as you attentively listened to his words. He realized he liked the attention. Your attention.

It didn't take long until you were more comfortable around each other. Then you would both talk freely, almost always about plants. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to know more about you, but he didn't have the courage to ask.

"What did you do... before?" you asked one day, about a week into your morning rendezvous. You were sharing a quiche today, and he took his time chewing before answering.

"Was part of the SDF," he said. You nodded like it made sense that a man like him had a job like that. "Nothing too interesting, though,” he said with a shrug. “You?"

"Worked at my family's bakery," you said, a small smile on your face as you seemed to think back to those times. "My grandma taught me everything I know. She made the best quiche in Tokyo, you know? Mine has nothing on hers."

He couldn't control his chuckle then, nor he meant to say the words that got out of his mouth next.

"Takeru would love to hear that."

"Who?" you asked, brow raised as you chewed a piece of the salty pastry. There were flakes of crust on the corner of your mouth, and he had to control the urge to wipe them away with his thumb. He shook his head instead.

"Just a friend from… from back home," he said. "The man can't cook to save his life but bakes one hell of a quiche. Yours is better, though."

You smiled at the compliment and proceeded to eat in silence. He didn't want to waste the chance to get to know you more, though.

"What do you do all day?" he asked. You raised a brow, and he specified what he meant, "I mean, I barely see you around and no one seems to know you, so…"

"Oh, I just stay in my room all day," you said as you shrugged and let out an awkward chuckle. "I'm not really a people person and I spend most of my nights awake, so I mostly just sleep."

"What do you do when you're awake, then?"

"I go to the games, I bake and, well, now I spend some time here with you." He could swear his heart beat a little faster at your words. He felt strangely honored that you decided to spend time with him.

"Yeah, I'm not much of a people person myself," he said. "Plants are much better, aren't they?" He tried to send you a small smile but immediately regretted it as it felt more like a grimace. You smiled back at him, though, so it probably wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

"Hmm, you're right, but I don't mind some people."

He didn't know what to make of your statement.

»«»«»«

A month passed when you met every morning.

Your joined morning routine had taken a comfortable rhythm for both of you, where you ate, talked, and worked without that awkward vibe of the first few days. With you joining him in the work, his crops flourished. It was the best part of his day, without a doubt.

He realized several things during that time.

The first was that you liked to sing while you worked. Didn't matter if you were planting potatoes, watering the flowers, or preparing herbal remedies – that you had eventually convinced him to be useful – you were always humming a tune under your breath, or singing the words aloud.

The second thing he realized was that he liked it.

He liked to hear you sing so much that the songs would stay in his head for the rest of the day, and he would wake up with your voice still echoing in his head. He had even caught himself whistling at times. Once during a council meeting, where he had zoned out again and was completely oblivious to the fact that he had been humming 'I Want to Break Free’ by Queen until Takeru snapped his attention and everyone was looking at him like he had grown two heads. All except his best friend, that had a knowing smirk on his lips.

The third thing he realized – and, to his shock, didn't surprise him – was that he had totally developed a crush on you.

"So, am I ever going to meet them or what?" Takeru asked over his glass of golden whiskey, taking a sip when Aguni took too long to answer. "You can't keep them a secret from me forever."

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all Aguni said as he took a gulp of his own drink, avoiding his friend's eyes and looking at the moon up high in the sky. His friend really had the best view for late-night drinking, especially after a stressful game.

"Fine, don't tell me," Takeru shrugged like he didn't care, but Aguni could tell he one hundred percent did. What was he supposed to tell him? There was no relationship for him to talk about.

"Okay, listen…" his friend's eyes shined as he focused all his attention on him, making Aguni want to hide from his scrutiny. He took a deep breath before saying, "There's nothing to talk about. There's no relationship."

"Ahh, but you're in love, aren't you?" Takeru let out an excited laugh, and Aguni could feel the corners of his mouth pulling up. "In all the years we've been friends I saw you like what? Three people? And you never behaved like this." He drank whatever was left of the drink in his glass before filling it up again. "This one sure looks promising." There was a pause where they just drank in silence before he asked again "So, what's her name? It’s a she, isn't it?"

"Y/N," Aguni mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. Takeru's eyes widen comically at the name.

"The pie girl?!" he asked in a raised tone. "You're head over heels for the pie girl?" He laughed then, and Aguni furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"You know her?"

"Yeah, I mean, old Yamamoto wouldn't tell me who the miracle baker was, so I went to see for myself. She's cute," he let out a mean chuckle, "I knew you were getting thicker around the waist. She's feeding you well, I see."

"Yeah." Aguni gave him a full-on smirk as he said the next words, "She makes the best quiche I've ever eaten."

The shocked and offended gasp that left Takeru's mouth almost made him laugh.

"You take that back!" the man punched his arm once and drank the remaining of his whiskey in one single gulp. "You just ruined my night. Get out and think about what you just said. I'll be expecting an apology by morning."

Aguni laughed then, the only kind of laugh that he could only make when he was around his best friend.

"Yours is good," he shrugged, still laughing. "But hers is better."

»«»«»«

->Next Chapter

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #ima wa no kuni no alice #aguni morizono #aguni x reader #aguni fanfiction #aguni imagine #aib fanfic

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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

Text

garden (koh!harry)

Warnings: language

Pairing: king of hell!Harry x angel!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: alright so!! this is an au a friend of mine and I thought of a couple years ago!! basically it’s demon!harry and angel!reader but with the added spice of harry being the king of hell!! the premise for this au is that it’ll kind of be an ongoing series/universe, like the hades!harry au!! so that means I’ll be posting a series of one shots and concepts in a non-chronological order, meaning that each one shot takes place in a different time and in a different order!! I’m really excited to write a series like this, in addition to the long stand-alone fics I do, and I really really hope you guys like it!! the last time I did a shorter one shot, it didn’t really get any feedback, and I thought longer stand-alone fics were the way to go, but I do really miss this format!! so. please. if you like it!! reblog it!! let me know you like it!! and let me know what questions you have about this au!! any concept or blurb ideas or thoughts you have!! I’m very excited for it and I hope you guys are too <3 also I originally wrote this au on my marvel blog last year, and have reworked and revamped it, so if it looks familiar, or sounds familiar, I promise I haven’t plagiarized lmao that was me!!

{masterlist}

When Y/N wakes up, the room is dark.

This, Y/N has come to realize, is normal, considering that the chambers she sleeps in have no windows. While this fact would normally have troubled her, she’s made her peace with it. After all, what is there to see? The palace, located in the center of hell, is surrounded by the flames of the underworld and the souls of the damned, and while neither of those things are a welcoming sight in the morning, they’re especially unwelcome for an angel such as herself. It had taken her so long to adjust to the obsidian stone walls around her, the heavy black and red velvet drapes that lined the frame of her bed, and the smell of sulfur that lingered in the air, even after she had placed herbs and flowers to burn in the fireplace and create a sweet smoke in the air. Truth be told, Y/N still wasn’t completely adjusted to the atmosphere around her, but this, too, doesn’t surprise her. An angel could never truly adjust to being in hell.

A rustling in the bed next to her pulls Y/N from her thoughts, and she lets her gaze shift to the muscled body nestled in the sheets next to her. This, she thinks, is another thing she may never get used to, even though it sparks a burning desire deep within her. While the king of hell may have once frightened you, the sight of him lying next to her brings a feeling of comfort to her, and Y/N allows herself a moment to admire the rarely relaxed state Harry is currently in. His curls, which are normally carefully styled beneath his crown, are tousled from sleep, falling into his face in an endearing way. His face itself is relaxed, the hard creases from the scowl that’s usually permanently etched into his features all but disappeared. The demon is normally a fearsome thing to behold, his power at the forefront of every one of his movements, but seeing him like this…these are some of Y/N’s favourite times.

Thinking him still asleep, Y/N carefully pushes his mussed curls back from his face, her fingers tracing down the line of his jaw. She can feel the stubble that’s unperceivable in the dark, and a soft sigh falls from her lips as she enjoys the rough sensation against her delicate fingers.

“Why are you awake, angel?” Harry’s low voice rumbles deep from his chest, raspy from lack of use. Although his eyes remain closed, his face half pressed into his pillow, Y/N watches him adjust himself in the bed.

“I don’t know.” She whispers back, laying her head back on her own pillow, her gaze still on his body. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

“S’alright.” Harry gives a small sigh, opening his eyes just barely. “I was just resting. I’m fine.”

Yes, Y/N thinks, that’s another thing she isn’t quite used to. While her body functions like that of a human, needing sleep every night, breathing oxygen into her lungs, a heart pumping blood through her veins…. Harry doesn’t. It’s rare he sleeps, and even when he does, it’s never for more than a few hours. He had explained to Y/N once how his heart beat so slowly when he was created, and how it stopped completely when he reached full maturity. Although Y/N can see the faint blueish outlines of veins beneath his tattooed skin, she’s not exactly sure what runs through them. Blood seems too common for a being like him. And if he was ever to get hurt, Y/N’s quite certain that he wouldn’t bleed like she would.

The sensation of Harry beginning to play with her hair pulls Y/N from her thoughts. “Why are you awake, hm?” He keeps his voice low, his tone gentle. He’s gotten better at speaking softly for her. “What’s troubling that pretty mind of yours, angel?”

Y/N half shrugs as best she can while laying down. “Nothing. Just…thinking, I suppose.”

Harry quirks up an eyebrow. “Thinking? About what?”

The words hesitate at the edge of Y/N’s mouth before spilling out. “How…I don’t really belong here.”

A deep hum echoes from Harry’s chest as his deep green eyes close again. “’F course you belong here, love. Don’t be silly.”

“I don’t belong here.” Y/N repeats the phrase insistently, her eyes glued to the way his jaw tenses as she says it. “I…I’m not from here.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t belong.” Harry counters, eyes opening once again. They’re darker now, and Y/N can see the stubbornness swirling within them. “I’m the king. I want you here. That means you belong.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip, contemplating the best way to explain herself. “I just…I miss it.” She says finally, her voice small as it slips into the space between them.

Harry’s pink lips pull down into a frown. “Miss what?”

Fingers twisting together, Y/N pauses before answering Harry’s inquiry. “Above.”

“Oh, angel…” Harry sighs again as he shifts his position, pulling her into his marked chest. His strong hands find her back in the darkness, stroking up and down over her cotton nightgown in a soothing manner. “What’s there to miss? Angry people rushing around all the time, destroying their own planet? Destroying themselves along with it? No, you’re much better off down here, with me.”

“There’s plenty to miss.” Y/N counters, pressing her ear into his chest to be greeted with the familiar sound of silence. “The smell of rain, sunshine, flowers growing, birdsongs…” She sighs as she trails off. “And I like people, you know that. They may destroy things, but down here…you destroy things too.”

“Only things that need to be.” Harry argues, his fingers continuing his tracings across her back, barely brushing over the two ridges between her shoulder blades where her wings usually sit. “Souls that deserve punishment, or souls that sold themselves to me. It’s part of the deal, angel.”

“I miss my garden.” Y/N’s voice is barely audible as she grazes her finger over his pentagram necklace. “My rose bushes, my sunflowers…I used to grow berries, too. Strawberries, blueberries…I would make delicious pies and scones…”

“If you truly desire those things,” Harry murmurs slowly, carefully measuring his words. “Then I can get them for you. I can send a demon to the surface for the fruits, and all the ingredients you would need to bake. I’m sure anything you create would taste…” The growing smirk is practically audible in his voice. “Sweet.”

Despite the light warmth that flushes her cheeks, Y/N shakes her head against his chest. “It’s not the same.” She sighs. “I miss the breeze. I miss the ocean. I used to run to the edge of the surf to dip my toes in the water…and I loved going to the beach at night. On clear nights, the moon would reflect on the water like a mirror, two glowing spheres, watching over me…”

“Are you not happy here?” Harry’s voice turns gruffer as he registers the longing in her voice. “You know why going to the surface is dangerous. The angels—”

“Would try to take me back. I know. And I don’t want to go back.” Y/N rubs her hand over Harry’s tensed muscles, trying to soothe him back into a relaxed position. “I just miss it. Isn’t there anything you miss? Anything that causes an ache in you, deep in your chest?” She presses her palm over his stilled heart to emphasize her words.

Harry softens at her touch, relaxing back into the sheets once more. “The only absence that could ever make me ache is yours.” He kisses the top of her head, an action so tender that Y/N almost forgets he’s a demon. “Sleep, angel. Dwelling on these matters will only cause you pain.”

Y/N kisses his collarbones chastely, the curves fitting easily underneath her lips, before settling herself back down and closing her eyes. Although breathing isn’t necessary for Harry, the familiar action soothes her as she listens to his breaths, the sound acting as her own personal ocean as she drifts to sleep.

…

The bed is cold when Y/N wakes up again the next morning, a sign that Harry has been long gone. Given his strange sleep schedule, this isn’t unusual. What is unusual, however, is the carefully folded note sitting on his carefully fluffed pillow. Y/N’s name is on the top of the note, scribbled in Harry’s messy penmanship. Y/N rubs the sleep from her eyes as she picks up the rough paper, a shiver rolling through her as she brings it to her nose. Although there’s the now familiar burn of sulphur initially, underneath sits Harry’s musky cologne, and the faint scent of it is enough to drive her mad.

Before she allows herself to get worked up any more, Y/N carefully unfolds the note, finding more of Harry’s writing on the inside.

Breakfast will be outside today, on the palace grounds.

Y/N frowns in confusion as she reads over the words repeatedly, trying to make sense of them. Harry knows that she hates going outside the palace walls, much preferring to spend her time inside the safety of the obsidian stone structure. Between the anguished sounds of the damned, the burning smell of sulfur, the agonizing heat…Y/N typically avoids the depressing area. However, Y/N has always had a natural curiosity to her, ever since she was created, and she knows that Harry is aware of that, which is why she finds herself making her way to the palace grounds as soon as she’s dressed. Although the idea of going outside leaves a pit in her stomach, she can’t help but wonder what would bring Harry to want to have breakfast outside. And, moreover, Y/N trusts Harry. Despite every one of her natural instincts telling her that a demon is dangerous, and the king of demons is even more so, Harry’s proven to her that he wouldn’t put her in harm’s way.

When Y/N reaches the palace doors, Harry is already waiting there, his arms clasped behind his back. He’s dressed in his usual attire of a suit, but this one is one of Y/N’s favourites. The black fabric is trimmed with red, and a pattern of intricate red and gold stitches decorates the body of the jacket. The pants are tailored to match, fitting his legs perfectly enough that they just brush the top of his black heeled boots. As Y/N’s eyes trail back up, she registers his usual rings on his hands—the silver skull, the ruby, the silver band, the onyx stone—as well as notes that his fingernails have freshly been painted black. His pentagram necklace, she knows, is carefully tucked under his shirt, hidden away between the black fabric and his tattooed chest. There’s a slight smile on his lips as he watches her walk towards him, and a satisfied expression glimmers in his dark green eyes. As he turns his head to the side to regard her, the gold and ruby crown that sits atop his perfectly styled curls catches the low light of the lit sconces around them.

As soon as Y/N is within his reach, Harry extends a ringed hand. “Good morning, angel.” He pulls her close to him, pressing her into his chest. “You look beautiful.”

Although enduring his compliments have become the usual, Y/N still hasn’t quite gotten used to them, and a light blush grows over her cheeks. Despite the embarrassment, Y/N’s glad that his words haven’t triggered the angelic blue light that sometimes radiates from her eyes when she feels something intensely (it had happened once a few weeks ago, and the smug look on Harry’s face had made Y/N swear to herself that she wouldn’t let it happen again). “Thank you, my king.” She holds up the note curiously, gauging the expression on his face. “What’s this?”

“I have a surprise for you.” Harry lowers his voice as he leans down to brush his lips over Y/N’s ear, speaking so only she can hear his throaty words. “And I really think you’ll love it.”

His tone of voice coupled with his breath on her ear makes Y/N shiver involuntarily. “O-okay.”

Judging by the smirk on Harry’s face, Y/N can tell that her reaction hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Come, angel.” Harry tugs lightly on Y/N’s hand as his smirk transforms itself into a more tender grin. “I have something to show you.”

Y/N’s curiosity is what allows her to allow Harry to push the front doors of the palace open and lead her outside. As expected, the moment Y/N steps into the muggy air of hell, her discomfort starts. Each breath seems to catch in her throat, and the very air around them feels as if it’s clinging to her skin, burrowing deep into her pores to start a slow burn. A small sound of discomfort escapes Y/N’s throat against her will, catching Harry’s attention immediately.

“You’re alright, angel.” He assures her instantly, squeezing her warm hand with his own icy fingers. “Come.”

Y/N continues to allow herself to be led by Harry, all of her steps falling slightly behind his own. After a few more minutes pass, she’s about to speak again to ask what exactly is so important for her to see, until she senses a change in the air. The more they walk, the more the burning smell of sulphur disappears from her senses. With relief finally on the horizon, Y/N’s pace finally speed up until she falls into step with Harry, her curiosity growing stronger as her discomfort slips away.

Harry squeezes her hand again, and the simple gesture is almost an encouragement as Y/N’s steps increase again. She begins to pull him behind her, leading the way on instinct alone. There’s an excitement in her curiosity and confusion, and Harry can feel it emanating from her as she gets closer and closer to his surprise. It brings a smile to his face, seeing her like this. Seeing her alive. Seeing her bring life to a place meant for the damned.

When Y/N finally sees the source of the sweet smelling air, she stops in her tracks, her hand moving to clutch Harry’s arm in shock as her mouth falls open. She gasps sharply, so in awe of what’s in front of her that the lack of pain from breathing hell’s hair doesn’t even register in her mind. Her mind has no space for it. All that she can think about is Harry behind her and the garden before her.

This is her surprise. A garden. A real, living, almost seemingly breathing, garden. At least, Y/N thinks it’s a garden. The dry earth beneath her spreads into scorched grass that fades into a delightful green hue, so vibrant that Y/N almost thinks that each blade has been painted with the colour. At the edge of the grass is a large hedge, at least three times as tall as Y/N and double as long. The darker green leaves that make up the wall of nature are dotted with wildflowers, adding pops of white and yellow every few inches. In the very center of the hedge is a large wooden door, built out of dark, sturdy wood studded with shining iron bolts. Although there’s a large wrought-iron knocker in the center of the wood, there’s no handle, and fear of not being able to see inside the magnificent structure seizes Y/N’s body as she turns to look at Harry with questioning and concerned eyes.

Harry seems to read the question in Y/N’s eyes, and the demon steps forward in response. “Here.” He says, taking Y/N’s hand from his arm and pressing it to the door, his own hand cupped over hers protectively. There’s a cadence to his voice that Y/N’s never heard before, and it takes her a moment to register it as excitement as he continues speaking. “It only opens to your touch.”

Y/N feels a shudder underneath her hand, almost as if the wood has registered that the palm pressed against it is her own. The force keeping it closed suddenly fades away, and Y/N easily pushes the large door open to reveal the garden inside.

The crisp and clear scent of fresh air hits Y/N first, almost bowling her over completely. For the first time in a long time, she’s able to inhale deeply and freely, not worrying about what the air around her may do to her body. The high hedge wall, along with the trees that create a canopy over the whole garden, seem to act like a barrier, blocking out the smells and sounds of hell. Y/N can smell various flowers and plants all around her, as well as the wonderfully earthy scent of dirt, and as she gazed around the natural enclosure, all she can hear is—

“Birds!” Y/N gasps in amazement as a small mockingbird lands on a tree branch, chirping happily. Without tearing her gaze away from the small creature, she poses half a question to Harry. “How—?”

Harry, still standing at the edge of the garden after closing the door behind them, knows her question before she even finishes. “I created it for you last night.” He says simply, his green irises glued to her every movement. “After our discussion.”

Y/N turns in a slow circle as she does her best to take in every detail around her. Birds, she realizes, aren’t the only creatures inside the haven; butterflies fly through the air, moving leisurely from flower to flower, and the chittering of squirrels scrambling up and down the trees mixed with the sounds of all the birds hidden in the leaves. A rustling in the bushes catches Y/N’s attention, and she manages to catch a glimpse of the cotton tail of a bunny before it hides under the foliage. A small frown tugs on the corner of her lips as she wonders why the bunnies are hiding away—heavenly beings are usually beloved by any living creatures—but like before, Harry guesses her question before she can ask it.

“They, uh, they don’t like me.” He clears his throat halfway through his sentence, his eyes gauging her reaction to his words. “Living creatures aren’t very fond of demons. Unlike your kind, we don’t smell like sunshine and cotton candy.”

Despite her delight in his gift, Y/N can’t help but roll her eyes a bit at his gentle ribbing. “I don’t smell like sunshine and cotton candy.” She says, reaching out a delicate finger to a butterfly floating near her. The tiny creature lands on her finger easily, without hesitation, and Y/N notices how Harry doesn’t receive the same treatment from the other butterflies in the air. In fact, now that she’s paying attention, she quickly realizes that every living being in the garden around them is steering clear of the king. She can’t quite blame them, she thinks, her eyes flickering over Harry’s closed off posture, dark appearance, and powerful aura. Everything about him radiates the energy of someone who is dangerous. And yet, Y/N’s never felt safer in hell than she does in this moment.

At the thought of safety, a new fear crosses her mind “Are they safe here?” Y/N asks in a hushed voice. “The animals? I don’t want them to get hurt, or…”

“This garden is its own ecosystem.” Harry finally makes his way away from the garden edge, taking Y/N’s hand in a reassuring manner. The butterfly on her finger flutters away as he gets closer, but Y/N’s attention is once again focused on the feeling of Harry’s cool fingers on her flushed skin. “As long as they stay in here, they’re safe. I swear it.” Harry says, sincerity clear in his voice.

Y/N’s heart pounds beneath her chest, every once of her senses alight as they bask in the fresh air around her. “Oh, Harry…” Her eyes widen again as she begins to catalogue all the varieties of plants growing around her. Not only were there flowers galore—fragrant roses of all colours, sunflowers taller than her, fragrant lilies, vibrant tulips, bright daffodils—all of her favourites, she notes—but past a grove of trees is— “Are those berries?”

The dimples that Y/N so rarely sees in Harry’s cheeks appear as he smiles at her excitement. “Yes.” He leads her over, his own excitement growing with every step. Y/N notices how he walks with care, making sure not to step on any flora with his heeled boots. It’s strange, seeing the king of hell being so cautious, but she appreciates it nonetheless.

Harry points to the various bushes around them with a painted finger, naming them as he goes. “Strawberries, blueberries…everything you’ve missed. There’s room for you to plant more, as well. If you’d like.” He glances at her for a moment, an unreadable look in his deep green eyes before he turns back to the plants. “And I set up a few stone benches throughout the garden, so you can come sit here when you need a break. There’s one under the willow tree, one by the rose bushes, and one by the—”

“The water.” Y/N whispers, voice barely audible. If Harry was human, he wouldn’t be able to hear the quiet gasp leave her lips. “Harry…”

When Y/N’s hand slowly slips out of Harry’s to walk to the water feature at the edge of the garden, she feels as though she’s in a trance. Perhaps it’s the water itself, she thinks, calling out to her to soak her hell-scorched skin within its cooling depths. Somehow, Harry had managed to make a small waterfall flow down from the top of the hedge into a crystal clear pool, which babbled delightfully with the motion. Although the pool isn’t large, it’s certainly big enough to swim in, and just the very thought of slipping into the water brings a feeling of relief to Y/N. Peering over the edge, she can see a few fish swimming around in the crystal clear water, and a new feeling of gratefulness mixes with the previous.

So entranced in the small pond, Y/N doesn’t even realize that Harry has followed behind her, keeping his distance by a few feet so she can admire the water. “Do you like it?” He asks, the excitement in his voice seeping out in exchange for a nervous and unsure tone. “It’s not…done yet. I just did it quickly, so it—I can still add more, or take out things you don’t like, or—”

“Harry.” Y/N turns to face him with tears in her eyes, a small shake of her head being the only action she’s capable of. “This is…wonderful. I don’t know how to thank you…”

Harry’s own eyes grow softer as he notices the tears welled in Y/N’s lash line, reflecting the light that seems to emanate from her eyes. “You don’t need to thank me.” He keeps his voice low, as if he’s worried speaking loudly will break whatever it is that’s growing between them. “I…I want you to be happy here. I want you to feel like…this is your home.”

“I do.” Y/N promises sincerely, taking both of his hands in hers as she speaks. She kisses his knuckles, her warm lips a contrast against the cold metal and stones of his rings. “Thank you. I truly mean it. Thank you.”

A new look passes through Harry’s eyes, more unreadable than anything Y/N’s ever seen before. His pink lips are just as much a mystery, no expression available on them as he pulls a hand from her grasp in order to cup her cheek. Despite the callouses on his fingers, and the cool temperature of his skin, Y/N leans into his touch, pressing her cheek into his palm.

“You’re welcome.” Harry’s thumb brushes over Y/N’s cheek bone, and the motion is so delicate and tender that Y/N isn’t quite sure what to make of it. “You’re…you’re so very welcome.”

Although he’s giving a polite response to her thanks, Y/N can’t help but feel like something deeper sits underneath the simple phrase as Harry repeats it. She’s welcome. So very welcome. But welcome where? In this garden? Into his life? Into him? The very thought of a double meaning causes her heart to pound, and by the flicker in Harry’s eyes, she knows he can hear it.

The questions bubble to her lips, but catch themselves on the tip of her tongue as her eyes detect a movement in the corner of gaze. The breeze around them (Y/N isn’t sure where the breeze is coming from, but she’s grateful for it nonetheless) move something she hadn’t noticed before. All questions about Harry’s intention fade away as her eyes focus on the sturdy branch of an oak tree, and the carefully woven ropes and wooden seat that hang from it. She drops his hands, stepping out of his grasp and towards the object of her attention. “Is that—is that a swing?”

A light chuckle rolls from Harry’s lips at the awe in her voice. “Yes.” He says, his amusement clear in the word. “Would you like me to push you?”

The offer is so casual, and yet, it brings a sudden shyness to Y/N’s reply. “Only if the king would like to.”

Harry bows his head, his crown sparkling atop his brown curls as he extends a hand. “It would be my honour, angel.”

Y/N matches his smile as she takes his hand once again.

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optimistic-dinosaur-nacho · 4 years

Note

How do you think various Chris Evans character, and Mr. Evans himself, would react to having an S/O loving, and being good at baking?

This sounds like a All In One type of deal!! Here’s a couple of his characters who I think will enjoy their s/o’s baking.

Blurbs for: Chris Evans, Steve Rogers, Ransom Drysdale, Andy Barber, Colin Shea, Frank Adler, and Ari Levinson.

Warnings: Language, Fluff

Chris Evans

Chris Evans may be a treat guy. He loves when you bake, especially making treats. You’ve made a lot of good pastries and he really loves your cookies or muffins. You’re a good cook, so Chris knows you are good with baking. Sometimes you’ve made a cake for his birthday and it wasn’t much but he loved it. It was simple and sweet.

He loves when he wakes up or walks in to the smell of cookies or cupcakes. In the morning, sometimes you make muffins. He loves those. And they’re always made out of love. You’d say Chris eats almost all of them in one day. You try out new recipes, do bread and brownies. Oh, how he loves your brownies. There are so many things you can make that Chris didn’t know exist and be in Heaven. He’s just glad to have you in the house to make him special.

And you love to see his reactions with your own treats.

Steve Rogers

What a perfect gif to use for an innocent little blurb of baking!

Steve is always the one to offer to cook you dinner but you love baking for fun. Whether you had powers or not, you had the skill of putting the whole Avengers under a sugar rush and food coma. You can offer the villains some cookies and they’d say thank you and go to jail. Steve loves watching you bake in the kitchen, especially at night.

He sits at the island and watches you read off the instructions on your phone with your sleeves rolled up and flour all over your shirt. He’s sometimes your taste-tester too. He is always your security guard. It’s not safe when you got the team going for the batter-covered spoon and make a mess in the kitchen. Sometimes Wanda joins you and bakes with you.

Steve loves the smell of your baking, he enjoys the cookies and brownies. He loves the chocolate peanut butter brownies like the rest of the team. Not going to lie, he loves to join in on the fun. He licks the batter off your finger or your cheek when the batter flies out of the mixture. And the rules are simple:

Steve gets to take the treat before anyone else.

Ransom Drysdale

Those cookies he stuffs in that big mouth of his isn’t the only treat he gets. Relax, I’m still on the topic of baking. I don’t know what you guys were thinking. Pfft! Anyway, Ransom seems like the sweet guy to eat cookies like the Biscoff’s. You bake cookies for the man and sometimes with his attitude he doesn’t get much.

The man doesn’t like the mess in the kitchen but if your baking is good, he’s going to allow it. On the Holidays, you bake like crazy. Pumpkin and berry pies (Ransom’s favorites), any kind of cookies and muffins just make his days better but doesn’t calm his cocky attitude. Though he doesn’t show it much, he always loves when you bake. Baking in the kitchen with his sweater on and your hair up, he loves to watch you.

If he’s good one day, you give him one of your treats. Pumpkin spice always filled the air in Ransom’s home. You guessed Ransom loved the smell of pumpkin spice, especially in the beginning of fall. Muffins are his favorites, too. But if he’s good:

He deserves the treat. It’s not easy to get one of your pastries.

Andy Barber

Andy has hard times dealing with many cases at the courthouse and when he comes home, he’s welcomed with the smell of sweets. He enjoys whatever you make in that kitchen and when he enters he gives you a gentle kiss on the shoulder with his soft words greeting you. You were an amazing cook and on top of that is the baking.

He loves when you make banana bread or cake bars like his number one favorite coffee cake. Jacob, his son, loves when you make sweets. Jacob is the troublemaker to get into a mess and he always gets the bowl with the leftover of batter. Most of the time, you come into Andy’s office and let him get a small taste of the batter and he loves when you do that. Even when he’s tired, you lift his spirits up.

There are certain rules when you come to baking, the boys leave you alone in the kitchen till you call them. You remembered the time Jacob spilled the whole flour over the counters and yourselves. Jacob never helped you ever again after that. You did teach him small things about baking, you baked him a cake once and he liked it. Jacob and Andy always light up when you bake in the home. Andy will always gets the first taste-test from the spoon.

Colin Shea

Colin can be one eater. If he can make out with a sandwich, he will make out with your cupcakes. He’s always the one to run into your kitchen and steal whatever you baked. You basically yell at him because he doesn’t understand that they just came out of the oven.

You’re cautious of having him around when baking. But he LOVES your baking. He won’t go to any other baking place but ask you to make him something good. He eats almost all of them and will shove them in his pockets. Unlike the rest, he loves when you make cinnamon rolls. He loves extra icing though. You always wonder where all that goes to when he still is in good shape when eating so much of your sweets.

He will shove the cookie, brownie, whatever into his mouth with no problem. One bite and it’s gone. Like some dog trying to eat his quick before the other gets to it. He’s not like any other guy which makes you think he’s comfortable around you. To be happy and funny around you and your baking. You will never have him bake with you. Because then your whole kitchen is covered in flour and eggs.

Frank Adler

Your favorite boat soft boy, Frank. Being in a small home with his niece, it was not easy for them. But with you being there for them, it was a dream for the both of them. Baking had been a thing for you since you were little. You remembered baking with your mom and it became a thing for you. To make someone smile.

Mary always asked if you were going to bake something and bring them some cookies. You always brought something new to them. Mary said the fruit tarts were her favorites. Frank always told you to stop baking because he knew it was “hard” work and you do bake in the middle of the night. But he had nothing to stop you with so he just let it happened and thanked you every time. Eventually when Mary stayed the night at Roberta, you and Frank hung out at your place and you baked some cookies.

Who knew Frank loved cookies?

He always thought of you as a friend but you coming over everyday and night to hand baked goodies for him and Mary was something he won’t forget. He’d wake up to seeing your face and remembering it when he goes to sleep. He then realized you were something more to him. And that he loved you and your baking.

Ari Levinson

Last but not least, my husband, your husband, your sexy long-haired boy. Ari Levinson. Before Ari didn’t know how good were you with cooking and baking. Until he tried it. And boy was he shocked. He’s never found something to good and that he always wanted you to keep baking.

It wasn’t a normal thing you do. It was on the mission when you worked in the kitchen. You served sometimes and everyone on your team enjoyed what you made. They always asked why your treats were so familiar to their grandma’s baking and that just makes you laugh.

Ari loves your baking and he knew you don’t do it much but he’s happy when you do bake. He always wondered how he ended up with someone with such good pastries. He would probably join you in your baking. So let’s hope he can handle not making a mess.

Official Taglist:

@jtargaryen18 @axen-gers @donutloverxo @captainchrisbaby @patzammit @bucksgoat @la-cey @void-hoechlin @lovepeacefood @stargazingfangirl18 @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @stop-obsessing-over-those-actors @nickysurfer28 @nbarnes @mcntsee @adriannajackson @chuckbass-love @sebbystanlover-vk @onetwo3000 @captainamerica-is-bae @cheeseburgersstuff @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @rororo06 @elliee1497 @navybrat817 @waywardodysseys @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @what-is-your-plan-today @princess-evans-addict @dummiesshort @renaissancecherub @bval-1 @thecomplexness @rebloggingeverything @chris-butt @peggycarter-steverogers

Want a tag? Just ask!!

#all in one #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #ari levinson x reader #colin shea x reader #frank adler x reader #andy barber x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #optimistic-dinosaur-nacho #opti-dino-nacho drabbles

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justlookfrightened · 4 years

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How hard could it be? Part 30

Start from the beginning

Part 29

Bitty closed his laptop and groaned. His eyes were gritty and his neck ached. But he thought he was finally done.

Why had he thought it was a good idea to do a Great British Bake Off-style event with a dozen hockey players (baker’s dozen, including Jack, who wasn’t competing)?

He was no Mary Berry or Paul Hollywood or even Prue Leith, and Jack was not Mel or Sue or Noel or Sandy. Most of all, the players were not the top amateur bakers in the country.

Given the circumstances, Bitty couldn’t even taste their food, which meant Jack had to be a judge, collecting the entries from doorsteps and lobbies across the greater Providence area. He would bring them back, sit in his kitchen on a video chat with Bitty, and hold the entry up for Bitty’s inspection. Then he would slice into it or break it apart so Bitty could see the inside before he finally took a bite.

“It’s good,” Jack had said, words muffled through a mouthful of cookie, for the first three entrants in the first round. Bitty had to stop him and ask for more description.

“Is it tender? Crunchy? Crumbly? Is it sweet? Too sweet? Can you taste ingredients besides sugar and butter?”

“I don’t know,” Jack had answered. “Should I?”

Once the judging was done, they would do a video conference with all the bakers and Bitty would announce the decision.

The players had been instructed to bake a batch of their favorite classic-style cookies, on camera, with Bitty watching and answering questions, but not volunteering advice. Jack could volunteer as much advice as he wanted, but he’d never made any sort of cookie before last week.

The Falcs PR department had sent some basic ring lights and external mics to the players to help, but the resulting videos were still amateurish, which was supposed to be part of their charm.

Bitty had scheduled the baking sessions three players at a time, and he had some good reaction shots of himself looking horrified as Tater tried to cream — by hand — unsoftened butter and cream cheese together for his kolacky, and Meyer dug his measuring cup straight into the flour.

Jack has shaken his head and said, “That’s not how you do that,” so everyone on the call could hear, causing Meyer, Poots and Grimaldi all to look up and say, “What?”

Neither Jack nor Bitty (or, apparently, Thirdy) had realized Thirdy rolled his ginger snaps in salt instead of sugar until Jack took a bite during the judging session and quickly ducked off camera to spit it out.

At the end of the cookie-baking sessions, which took a week to get through, Bitty and Jack had narrowed the field to six. Bitty then told them all to produce twelve cupcakes.

“You only need to give Jack two,” Bitty said. “Save the rest for your families or your neighbors or whoever will take them. But you need to show us the whole dozen, with icing, on camera so we know you made them.”

The group did better than Bitty had hoped with the cupcakes. Well, all except Marty, who got distracted by his daughter and put in twice as much baking powder as the recipe called for, creating a chocolate mess.

“The challenge wasn’t mudpies,” Jack said when Marty held the pan up to the camera.

“Shut up,” Marty said. “We’re only doing this for you.”

Others overfilled their cups, making their cupcakes merge, or over-beat the batter, leading to concave cupcakes.

“That’s the way they’re supposed to be,” Fitz said to the camera. “Like cups for the frosting.”

In the end, Fitz’s cupcakes were more frosting than cake. He did not move on to the final.

The three finalists had been Tater, Snowy and, to everyone’s surprise, Poots. They were given the ultimate challenge: producing a homemade double-crust fruit pie, their choice of flavor.

Snowy chose cherry, Poots went with peach (“Isn’t Bitty in Georgia?” he asked), and Tater went for blueberry.

For the final, Bitty did a crust tutorial for all of them before they started, which Jack thought was generous. All of them produced pies better than Jack’s first effort, but not quite up to the standard of the ones he had made with Bitty baking along with him on the computer.

Tater and Snowy attempted lattices and Poots tried to do hockey-stick shaped cutouts on the top. Jack thought they looked more like boomerangs.

In the end, Tater took top honors. “Now I bring pie to you, Zimmboni,” he crowed.

Bitty had ended more than 30 hours of video into three half-hour installments and sent them to the Falcs PR department for approval.

Then he started making the care packages for all the players who participated and all the staff involved, because really, no one had to do this.

“You know they all really like you,” Bitty told Jack, chatting while he baked and Jack sat in Providence, flicking through his photos. “I’m pretty sure they agreed because you asked.”

“They agreed because George asked,” Jack said. “And they’re bored silly.”

“Silly is right,” Bitty said. “I pity whoever has to clean their kitchens.”

“They really liked you, though,” Jack said. “They keep asking me if they can meet you, you know, when you come back north.”

“Hmmm, let me think, do I want to hang out with members of a professional hockey team who might actually respect my baking?” Bitty said. “But why ask you? They all have my contact information.”

“Um, theymightthinkwe’retogether?” Jack mumbled.

“What was that, sweetpea?” Bitty asked, stopping to peer at the screen.

Jack was looking down at his keyboard instead of whatever photo was up in the open window.

“They might think we’re together,” Jack said, looking up at Bitty’s face with those incredibly blue eyes. He looked almost sad.

“I didn’t say we were, and nobody came out and asked, so it would have been weird if I came out and said we weren’t dating,” Jack continued. “But I think that’s what they thought, because they can tell I like you. Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Bitty asked, suddenly worried. “Why sorry?”

“In case you wanted … something else,” Jack said. “Since we never …”

“Of course I like you too,” Bitty said. “I mean, I like you as a friend, too, you Canadian moose, but I’d love to date you. I thought we were just waiting to say something until we meet in person to see if we actually have chemistry.”

“Are you worried about that?” Jack said. “Like … that I’ll smell like a moose or something?”

“Remember, I’m a hockey player too,” Bitty said. “Or I was. I know you smell like a moose when you get off the ice. But I’m pretty sure you clean up well. The bigger question is whether you can put up with me.”

“Not worried,” Jack said. “So … want to try this? How hard could it be?”

Now posting on AO3

A/N: Hey, y’all. This is it for now. There may be an epilogue in a week or so.

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic

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unwritrecipes · 3 years

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The Book on Pie's Blueberry Clafoutis Pie-Famous Fridays

Happy Friday, my friends! Who’s ready to bake some pie?!! Today we celebrate renowned baker Erin McDowell and her wonderful and extremely comprehensive cookbook, The Book on Pie: Everything You Need to Know to Bake Perfect Pies. Whether you’re an expert pie baker or a complete novice on the pie baking front, as long as you ❤️ pie, this Famous Fridays is for you!

There are tons and tons of amazing recipes for pie in this book and it would have been extremely difficult to pick which one to feature but for the fact that my fridge is full of farm-fresh picked blueberries right now, so choosing this Blueberry Clafoutis Pie, was a no-brainer (told you I’d be unleashing a storm of berry recipes!!)

But before we get to this lovely summery pie, I just want to talk about how truly terrific and aptly named this cookbook is. In addition to a slew of fabulous sweet and savory pie recipes, you will learn everything you need to know about crimping and braiding and the lattice technique, how to blind and par-bake and dock, what special tools and pie plates to use and all different sorts of pie toppings, from streusel to nut butter whipped cream to dark chocolate drippy glaze! And everything is written so clearly with helpful little tips and accompanied by stunning glossy photos that you feel confident that no matter which recipe you try, you’re bound to succeed. In other words, this book is a keeper that I really think you’ll use for years and years!

And now finally, onto Blueberry Clafoutis Pie!!! Traditionally, a clafoutis is a homey French crustless dessert made with cherries that has an eggy batter that gets poured over the fruit and baked. Here, Erin brilliantly translates that into pie form, so that the blueberries get surrounded by a light custard AND you get the magic of an all-butter pie crust. So many great flavors and textures!!

Once you’ve put together and par-baked your pie crust (take a look at this post for how to do all that), you brush it with a little egg wash and fill with your berries

Next you whisk together the custard, pour it over those berries

And bake! Easy-peasy and done!

The filling is slightly creamy and perfectly balances out the juicy berries and crisp golden crust!

Unfortunately, I don’t have a cut piece to show you because I brought it to my sister’s house and it sort of got pounced on and disappeared before I could get my camera out, but that only shows how much it was loved, right?!! And sure, I could make this again (and I will) but I wanted you to have this asap since we’re really in the middle of blueberry season right now. In any case, I hope it inspires you to make your own!

So…get yourself a copy of The Book on Pie as soon as you can—with all the fresh fruit around, now is such a great time to bake pies and have a wonderful, safe and pie-filled weekend!!xoxo

The Book on Pie’s Blueberry Clafoutis Pie-Famous Fridays

Makes one 9-inch pie

Prep Time for Crust: 15 minutes, plus several hours chilling time, rolling out and par-baking. Prep Time for Filling: 10 minutes; Bake Time: 45-55 minutes

Ingredients

For the crust

1 ½ cups unbleached, all-purpose flour, plus extra for rolling out

1 ½ teaspoons sugar

½ teaspoon salt

8 tablespoons (½ cup) unsalted butter, cut into small cubes and chilled

⅓ cup cold water

1 teaspoon cider vinegar

Ice Cubes

1 large egg whisked with 1 tablespoon cool water, for egg wash

For the filling

10 ounces fresh blueberries

1 vanilla bean, cut lengthwise

½ cup sugar

¼ cup unbleached, all-purpose flour

1 cup whole milk

⅓ cup heavy cream

3 large eggs

½ teaspoon fine sea salt

Pinch of cinnamon

Confectioners’ sugar for dusting, optional (I didn’t use)

The Recipe

1. For the crust: Add the flour, sugar and salt to the bowl of a food processor and pulse a few times to blend. Add in the chilled butter and pulse a few times until the butter has become the size of small peas.

2. Into the ⅓ cup cold water, add the vinegar and stir. Then add enough ice cubes to raise the level to ½ cup. Add 2 tablespoons of the mixture to the flour mixture and pulse a few times to incorporate it. It will look very crumbly. Then add 1 more tablespoon and pulse again a few times. You should see the mixture start to come together in a shaggy way with lots of crumbly bits. If you absolutely think you need to, add one more tablespoon of water. I never need to—it’s better for your dough to be too dry than too wet.

3. Turn the crumbly dough out onto a very lightly floured surface and gather it all into a ball. Make sure to scrape out the bowl of the processor—sometimes some of the wet parts of the dough get a little stuck and form the whole thing into a ball. Then flatten into a disk, wrap well in plastic wrap and chill for several hours and even better, overnight.

4. When you are ready to roll out the dough, flour a board or counter with a little flour and flour your rolling pin too. If the dough is very stiff (mine usually is) let it sit out on the counter for about 20 minutes till it seems pliable. Roll out the dough, rolling from the center out and to a corner, then lifting the dough off the surface of the board and giving it a little ¼ turn and rolling again, repeating the process until you’re rolled the dough out into a circle that’s a couple of inches wider in diameter than the pie plate.

5. Fold the dough in half and transfer to the pie plate, unrolling it and then carefully easing it down onto the bottom and sides—no stretching! Fold the overhang over and crimp/decorate the edges any way you like. The easiest way is to just use the tines of a fork pressed into the dough to create a little pattern. Now prick the bottom and sides all over with the tines of the fork.

6. Place the pie plate in the freezer for 30 minutes.

7. Meanwhile preheat your oven to 425ºF. When the 30 minutes are up, line the pie with a piece of aluminum foil or parchment paper and either pie weights or beans. If any of the edges stick out, cut little pieces of foil to fit over them. Bake about 15 minutes and then remove the foil and weights. Return to the oven for about 2-4 minutes more until crust is golden brown and transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

8. To make the filling: Place a rack in the bottom third of the oven and preheat oven to 350ºF. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and place the cooled pie shell onto it. Brush the pie shell all over with the egg wash and then fill with the berries, spreading them out evenly. Set aside.

9. Place the sugar in a medium bowl and scrape the seeds out from the vanilla bean into the bowl (discard the pod, or add to some sugar to make vanilla sugar). Use your fingers to rub the vanilla bean seeds into the sugar so that the sugar gets infused with the vanilla. Whisk in the flour. Then add the milk, cream and eggs and whisk well to combine. Whisk in the salt and cinnamon. Pour the liquid over the berries in the crust and kind of spread it around if it doesn’t distribute evenly.

10. Bake for 45-55 minutes, until the custard is set at the edges but the center is still a little jiggly when you gently shake the pan. Let cool on a wire rack and either dust with the confectioners’ sugar or not and serve. You can serve this while it’s still warm or at room temperature. Like all fruit pies this is best on the day that it is made.

Enjoy!

Note: Recipe adapted from The Book on Pie by Erin Jeannne McDowell. I used this pie crust recipe because it’s been my reliable go-to for years now, but I have used Erin’s too and it’s also terrific.

#Flour #Sugar #Salt #Butter #Cold Water #Apple Cider Vinegar #Ice Cubes #Blueberries #Vanilla Bean #Whole Milk #Heavy Cream #Eggs #Fine Sea Salt #Cinnamon #Confectioners' Sugar

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

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lover series - daylight

Pairing: Carter Baizen x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: this is what happens when i mention carter baizen more than once a day. also daylight just fits him as a person??? if you wanna listen to daylight while reading this, here. this was inspired by an ask i got in this blog, thank you for the idea 💕

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in Everyone looked worse in the light There are so many lines that I've crossed, unforgiven I'll tell you truth, but never, "Goodbye"

- Get out.

- What? - Carter looked at the blonde sat next to him whose eyes seemed to wander to everyone but to him. - Don’t be like this. You’re just nervous about meeting your dad.

- I don’t need your help anymore or ever again. I should have done this on my own from the start.

- Fine, if that’s what you want. - he opened the door of the limousine, climbing off the comfortable warmth of their vehicle to be greeted with the darkness and coldness of New York during the warmth. Serena, without as much as looking back at the man who had spent a full year helping her find her father, ordered the driver to keep going. Well, he should’ve known better but once again, his judgement tended to be clouded whenever dealing with pretty women.

Once again he was all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to talk to. He could just fell his parents awaiting for him to return to them on his knees begging to be taken back but at this point there was too much damage done and Carter was much to prideful to return to them. In all honesty, Carter was much to prideful to even stay with New York. After the mess that had been his relationship with Serena, no doubt the rest of the Upper East Side was gonna go after him with every single little dark secret he had, and he had plenty of those.

With that in mind Carter decided to do what he always did; start again. That’s what he always did when things went south or when the world became too suffocating. However, after doing humanitarian work and a documentary, he wondered what he could do next. Lost in how to reboot his life for what seemed like the millionth time in his young years, a little fall of rain from the sky started to wet his cashmere black trench coat. He bite his lip out of frustration. Of fucking course, that was just what he needed right now. Before he could let out all his frustrations by kicking a nearby bin, drops of water stopped falling on his coat and instead sounded like they were falling onto plastic.

- Are you alright, sir? - a melodic, magical-like voice broke through his mind and his eyes travelled to a woman standing next to him. She was holding a plastic umbrella over him which kept both of them dry and away from the rain. Unlike him, she was dressed in a lesser quality fabric, using what looked like a blue waitress dress and some off brand white sneakers with her hair pushed into a ponytail, everything merely covered by a worn out black cotton trench coat. - Sir?

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Suddenly, he remembered a faithful sentence from one of the movies he had seen during his youth, finally understanding its meaning. They say when you meet the love of your life, time stops. It was true, time did stopped, everything seemed to move in incredibly slow motion, he could see every single blink of the most gorgeous pair of eyes he’d ever met, hear every drop of rain hitting the plastic of the umbrella. However, the later part of the sentence was also true, once time starts again it moves extra fast, and none was that true as a honking bus drove through a puddle of water, waking them both from a dream-like trance.

- I saw you being kicked off a car from my diner. You look like you needed help. - she pushed a few of the fly away hairs of her ponytail held together by a blue scrunchie behind her ear. Unlike the girls of Upper East, they weren’t adorned with pearls or heavy jewelled earrings. - Do you wanna come in for a bit, just while the rain doesn’t calm down?

Carter still found himself still staring at her. God, where had she been hiding his whole life? Did she just decide to pop up now that he had been truly humiliated by Serena. Serena, who was even Serena? He didn’t think he’d ever want to think about Serena, Blair, Beth. Who were any of them compared to that woman holding an off brand umbrella over his head as if he wasn’t one of the most hated people in the Upper East. In normal circumstances, he wouldn’t enter any lower ranked places but her smile and comforting aura just made him want to follow her anywhere she went. And so, with a nod, he followed her inside a small diner just in front o the place he had been so unceremoniously dumped. The place was small and empty seemingly with her being probably the last employee before closing time. Nevertheless, there was some charm on the beat up, too used black board by the kitchen window with various pie names written in beautiful chalk calligraphy.

- Do you want to eat anything? My treat. - he wondered why she wasn’t charging, why a woman who clearly was much lower than him status wise and could clearly see he was rich offer him something. Normally people would try to quickly rip him off. - I bake them all myself. A new one every single morning.

- You bake a new pie every single morning? - he took a seat on one of the red leathered stools by the main table. - Is this your place?

- No, I just work here but one day I’m gonna have my own place, my own pie shop and people are gonna come from all over the world to try my pies. - she seemed to get lost in her own fantasy before opening the lid of one of the various glass pies stands to take what looked like a wild berry pie slice, serving it perfectly on a freshly washed plate. - A little wild, wild, berry pie.

- Pardon? - he asked as she slide the plate towards him, handing him a fork at the same time.

- The pie. - she pointed at the board. - It’s the title. Cream patisserie with some berries on traditional pie crust. I got the idea while watching a particularly steamy scene on Sex and the City.

- You created the recipe?

- Where do you think recipes come from? - she smirked at him. - Come on, I promise it’s not poisoned.

Carter gave her a coyly smile before sinking in his fork in the beautiful berry coloured desert, taking a piece before bring it up to his mouth. As the sweet touched his tongue, he swore like he melted away from his whole body. The taste was fantastic and Carter was certain he had never tasted anything better than that small piece of pie.

- God, this is fantastic.

- Thank you, I try my best. - she smiled. - I’m Y/N, by the way.

- Carter Baizen.

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky And so I became the butt of the joke I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked Clearin' the air, I breathed in the smoke maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down Maybe I've stormed out of every single room in this town Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now It's brighter now, now

- Olivia? - Carter mockingly called out, looking around his hotel suit as he wrapped a burgundy red tie around his pristine white shirt. A small high pitched giggle came from behind the leather coach. With a coy smile, Carter slowly moved towards the couch. - Oh, where could my Libbie be?

Another high pitched came from behind the coach and before the three year old could realise what was happening, Carter had already grabbed her by the waist, throwing her to the ceiling before catching her in a fit of giggles, her inherited curly brown hair stuck in front of the same eyes she had definitely gotten from her mother. The little girl giggled once more, tiny arms coming to wrap themselves around her father’s neck.

- What are you two doing? - Y/N came out from her bedroom due to all the giggling. Noticing her daughter in her father’s arms she merely rolled her eyes with a smile on her face. - I thought you were supposed to be in bed.

- We’re just playing hide and seek. - she replied, hiding behind her father’s neck. She surely knew how to avoid confrontation. Y/N merely laughed, walking up to her husband and daughter. - Do you really need to go, mummy?

- It’s just for a few hours. We’ll be here when you wake up. - Y/N pulled some of her daughter’s hair away from her round, chubby baby face.

- Why can’t I go? - she pouted.

- You wouldn’t like it, baby. - Carter kissed her cheek before handing her to the nanny who they had hired specifically for tonight. Usually Y/N and Carter didn’t hire nannies as they would rather spend time with their daughter rather than having a complete stranger. Most of the times, Olivia would either be at the pie shop with Y/N or at Carter’s firm office. However, tonight specifically both Carter and Y/N needed to attend a donators gala hosted by none other than Carter’s old fling Serena van der Woodsen. Initially, Carter had been firm on his decision not go, much too uninterested in ever speaking to her or any of her friends ever again. However, after some convincing on Y/N’s part and how he shouldn’t really care about other’s opinion and just enjoy a nice night out, he had caved in. - Trust me, daddy won’t like it either.

- Tuck me in?

- Okay, baby. - Y/N took over from the nanny, picking her daughter up against her hip before walking away from the main room and into the bedroom of the hotel suit. Carter took to pushing the sheets away from the mattress as Y/N laid her daughter in, puffing her pillows just the way she liked it and pulling the duvet up to her neck. - Now you be a brave good girl for mummy and daddy, okay?

- Okay. - she nodded, holding onto one of her many stuffed animals. - Night, mummy. Night, daddy.

- Goodnight, ladybug. - Carter placed a kiss on his daughter’s forehead before getting up and following his wife out of the hotel room before he could change his mind. His life had gone a completely one eighty every since seeing the group of people he used to hang out with during his youth. He had gotten married to the love of his life who was fiercely by his side no matter what happened, had started his own firm finally riding himself of his parents name, and had brought in the most precious daughter to the world. Whatever happened in the Upper East Side was no longer something that interested him even if he was one of the most wealthy men in New York. He didn’t want Y/N or Olivia to frequent those rotten and cruel places. They were happy in their own little bubble however, sometimes, like tonight, he had to confront the rest of the whole who seemingly still had his eyes on him.

Noticing his tenseness, Y/N intertwined her hand with his, giving him a soft and understanding smile followed by a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

- You’re gonna be fine, you’ve done way better than everyone in that room. You didn’t inherit what you have, you built it and you should be proud of that, Car.

- Well, you have to say that, you’re my wife. - he moved his face slightly so he could kiss her properly. - I can’t believe you’re my wife.

- You asked me on a good day. - she looked at the engagement band stacked with her wedding band, simple in silver, nothing too big or too lavish, just something small that both of them liked.

They were both escorted into the limo with Y/N immediately cuddling up next to her husband unlike so many of his girlfriends before. In all honesty, Carter sometimes thought he was dreaming. He just couldn’t believe he was married to her and if he had told a younger self he would marry someone outside the Upper East circle he wouldn’t have believed it, yet here he was. She was a magnetic, kind, determined woman who had managed to get him out of a rut and push him to his full potential while still living her own dreams. He thought he couldn’t be more in love with her and then she gave him Olivia. He still remembered that faithful New Year’s Eve when she handed him a pregnancy test or when they had to rush out of one of his dinners because she had begun labour. There was nothing in this world that mattered more to Carter Baizen than his girls, something the rest of the Upper East didn’t really understand. However, he was happy, he was happily married, happy with his career and happy with his little ladybug.

- Car, are you coming? - Y/N snapped him out of his daze as they reached the gala’s location. Pushing away all the insecurities he had, he pridefully walked down the stairs with Y/N by his side, catching the attention of every single person who stopped their chat to look at the “disgraced” Carter Baizen and the so called “pie girl” he had married.

- Should we dance? - he gave her grin, offering her his hand eloquently much to her enjoyment. - I wish to dance with the prettiest lady in this room.

- Prettiest girl in the room? - she giggled, taking in his hand while the other one held her waist. - Should I ask how many girls in this room you’ve used that line with?

- Well, Mrs. Baizen, you’re definitely the only one I’ve used that on.

- You better not be lying to me, Mr. Baizen.

- I love you so much, Y/N. - he leaned down to peck her lips, not caring who was watching.

- I love you too, Car.

I once believe love would be burning red but it’s golden like daylight

#sebastian stan #carter baizen #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x y/n #carter baizen x you #carter baizen x y/n #carter baizen x reader #carter baizen imagine #carter baizen drabble #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble

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janeyseymour · 4 years

Text

Dessert For Breakfast

I’ve decided to continue with this little SiX/Waitress crossover, so uh, here you go??

prompt: ooo i'm so glad to see that people are liking the jane and jenna story :') i can't wait to see what you write next! what if bo gets sad at the time jane spends with the pomatters. less in a mom/daughter way (personally i see bo and jane as close friends like abby and andrea would be) but more like jane is slipping away. jane is still around and ALL the queens hangout at least once a week so it's not like anything has really changed. it's a shift in the ~vibe~ ahfkjajf if that makes sense

I’m not quite sure that my brain did what it was supposed to over even really followed the prompt all that much, but I hope you still enjoy it?

Since beginning to nanny for the Pomatter-Hunterson household, Jane had grown quite fond of the family. Oftentimes, long after the day’s work was done, the blonde hung around with the three.

Not much had changed in reality. The other five queens were usually out of the house during the times where Jane was watching Lulu. It’s just that every once in a while, the second queen would walk into the house expecting a home cooked meal to be on the table like it so often was only to be met with a silent household. The third queen would rush into the house mere minutes later apologizing profusely about how “Lu kept begging me to stay for dinner. I couldn’t say no to that sweet little face,” or “Lulu was so excited to have all of us together. I couldn’t leave right when Jim and Jenna got home.”

It’s not that Anne was jealous of the six year old. No. Even she, as petty as the green queen could be, would not be jealous of a six year old. So, the second queen let her successor have her fun. If Jane was happy, well then so be it. She could wait another thirty minutes to eat.

But more and more, the conversation with the blonde would turn into “Jenna said the funniest thing today,” or “Oh yeah! Jenna and I did this today,” and that’s what would drive Anne up a wall.

Since being reincarnated and travelling on tour together before settling at their home in New York, Anne and Jane had a special bond. It wasn’t quite like a mother-daughter dynamic as the avid fans of the show made it out to be; they were just exceptionally close friends. Regardless of who Jane was with, her mothering tendencies were bound to shine at some point; it just happened to be that she was out with her predecessor a lot.

“Oh! Jenna and I-” Jane began.

“Would you shut up about Jenna? I get it! She’s great, she’s your new best friend, blah blah blah,” Anne snapped.

“What?” Jane was visibly confused. Anne was her best friend, not Jenna.

“All you do now whenever you're here now is talking about Lulu, Jim and Jenna. What about us Jane? What about me?” The second queen asked the last question rather quietly. She was a bit embarrassed to admit she felt this way.

“Annie,” Jane sighed gently, her tone immediately getting soft. “Is that how you really feel?”

“I-” Anne threw her arms up in exasperation. “I don’t know!”

“Honey,” Jane reached out towards her friend. “Is that really how you feel?”

“It’s just that you always used to be around whenever I wanted to do something. You’re not always now. I don’t know,” Anne looked up at the blonde. “Maybe I’m just being stupid. You deserve to have other friends. I’m sorry.”

“If I made you feel that you’re not my best friend anymore, I’m really sorry Annie. You’re always going to be my number one. I can do my best to be here more again.”

“No!” Anne shook her head. “I was being selfish. I guess I just got used to having you around all the time. If Jenna and Lulu make you happy, you should hang out with them. I can go vibe on my own.”

“What if,” Jane smiled at her thought. “On Saturday, we head over to Jenna’s diner and grab some breakfast pie?”

“Dude, really? You always say I can’t have dessert for breakfast.”

“I think I can make an exception this once. Her pies are literally to die for.”

“Yes!” Anne fist pumped.

So that Saturday, the two walked down to Lulu’s Pies.

“Oh hey Jane,” Jenna smiled from behind the cash register when she saw the blonde.

“Jane!” Lulu came bouncing out from behind her mother. “Guess what! I have-” the little girl took in that Jane wasn’t by herself this time. “Oh my gosh! You’re the lady from the cafe! Thank you so much for that extra treat!”

Anne smiled. She didn’t think that her sneaking an extra treat into the young one’s bag would be remembered a month later. “Anne.” She grinned.

“I’m Lulu. This is my mama. Do you want a slice of pie? My mama makes the best pies in the whole world! Today’s special is In The Dark, Dark Chocolate pie.” Anne had to bite back a laugh. The pie’s name was so dirty, but hearing it come out of the six year old’s mouth with such innocence was adorable. “There’s also Wild, Wild Berry pie, or Mermaid Marshmallow. Or, Lulu’s Strawberry Dream pie. That one’s named after me! And guess what? I made it up!” Anne could see why Jane had grown so fond of the youngster.

“That would be awesome! Do you think you can pick the slice of pie for me?” Anne grinned.

“Yeah! But, we gotta sit down first. We can sit in my booth!” Anne was pulled by Lulu to a small booth in the back of the diner.

“Jane!” Lulu called. “Come on! We have some coloring to do! Mama even bought me new colored pencils!”

“Go on hun. I can bring over your usual. Anything special for Anne?”

“Maybe some hot chocolate?”

“You got it. I’ll be over to talk. The others have it covered for a while.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Anne asked the little one. Lulu nodded excitedly. “Jane never lets me have sweets this early,” she stage-whispered as she saw the blonde approaching.

“She doesn’t let me either,” Lulu laughed. “Mama and Daddy don’t either. They say I gotta eat all my vegetables before I can have pie.”

“You girls are already gossiping about me?” Jane laughed good-heartedly as she sat down across the booth that Anne and Lulu were occupying.

“No!” Both girls' hands shot up in defense. The two had very similar tendencies.

“I’m just joking, loves.”

“Alrighty, I got a cup o’ Joe for Jane, and two hot chocolates.” Jenna laughed as she watched the younger girls’ eyes light up.

“Really Mama? I get to have hot chocolate this early?” Lulu asked excitedly.

“A sweet treat every once in a while doesn’t hurt babe,” Jenna pushed the drink towards her daughter. “Just be careful not to spill.”

“Jane told me you like hot chocolate?” Jenna pushed the other one towards the girl with space buns.

“Yes. Thank you,” Anne’s energy shifted with the presence of the woman she was slightly jealous of.

“No problem hun. I’m just gonna go grab the pies, and then would you mind if I joined y’all?” Jenna wandered away only to return seconds later with four slices of pie.

“So you’re Jenna.” Anne looked the brunette up and down.

“So,” Jenna sighed as she took a seat next to Jane. “You’re the one who sugared up my daughter?” She looked at Anne.

“Ma’am, I-” Anne started getting defensive.

“Love, she’s just joking,” Jane stopped the second queen before she could finish her sentence.

“No, no, I don’t mind at all. It’s not every day a broadway icon gives your daughter an extra cookie because she had good manners,” Jenna smiled. Anne relaxed slightly at this. She was still a bit weary of the brunette.“I’m sorry if I came off as rude at first.”

“It’s alright.” Anne lifted the fork up to her mouth and took a bite. The second queen’s face went from neutral to a grin in mere seconds.“Holy-”

“Anne,” Jane interrupted.

“Holy moly this is great!” Anne dove into her slice of chocolate pie. “How did you do this?”

“It’s baked from the heart,” Jenna grinned.

“No, seriously! How did you-”

“Anne! Look! I drew us!” Lulu shoved a paper in the second queen’s face.

“Wow! This is so good!” Anne complimented.

“You can have it if you want!”

“I’ll make sure it goes in a very special place in my room. Do you think you could sign it for me?”

“Yes!” Lulu wrote her name down on the paper before handing it back to Anne. “It’s not that good, but Mama says with practice, my handwriting will get a lot better!”

“You know Lu, Anne used to sign things all the time! She was on Broadway with Jane. Isn’t that cool?”

“You and Jane were on Broadway together?” Lulu looked up at her new friend with big eyes.

“Yep. Me and ol’ Janey-”

“Not old,” Jane interjected.

“Me and ol’ Janey did a show together! It was a lot of fun!”

“Not old!” Jane laughed once again.

“The show was amazing,” Jenna said earnestly. “You have a spectacular voice. I wish I had that kind of talent.”

��Thank you!” Anne let herself go. Maybe this woman isn’t so bad afterall, she thought.

“I’m serious Anne. Your voice is killer. And my husband had tears rolling down his face from laughing so hard at some of the things you said. You were amazing.”

“Thank you so much. This pie is amazing.” The green queen turned her attention to Jane. “Is this where you disappear to every Saturday morning?” Jane nodded sheepishly.

“What does she get?” Anne turned her attention to Jenna.

“She gets pie,” Lulu ratted out the blonde.

“Jane!” Anne exclaimed. “You preach all of this stuff about eating healthy and ‘no dessert’ before our meals, and you sneak off and eat pie every Saturday for breakfast?”

“No?” Jane’s voice went up an octave.

“Oh just wait until Aragon gets a load of-”

“If you don’t tell her, you can come with me,” the blonde offered.

“Annie! You should come!” Lulu jumped around.

“You’re always welcome to come hang out with us on Saturday mornings. I’ll have a nice hot cup of cocoa waiting for you,” Jenna enticed the woman.

“You got me with the hot chocolate.” Anne pointed at the brunette. “I like you. Feeding into my bad habits.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it.” Jane put her head in her hands.

“So, you got any dirt on ol’ Janey here?” Anne spoke through a mouthful of pie.

“Sometimes Jane will bring me to the diner to visit Mama, and she’ll always have a slice of whatever the special is.”

“I like you kid,” Anne chuckled. “I got one. One time I caught her in the kitchen at like 3 in the morning baking cookies for herself. I was silenced with a promise of getting half the batch.”

“One time Mama was eating ice cream out of the container! She let me have some if I didn’t tell Daddy.”

“And you did anyway.”

“He wasn’t mad Mama,” Lulu giggled.

“Not with you anyway,” Jenna muttered. “I got a stern talking to.”

The four spent the morning together laughing sharing different anecdotes about each other. Every once in a while, Jane and Jenna would make eye contact and smile.

When Jane and Anne made their way out the door, Lulu smothered them both in hugs.

“I’ll see you next week?” Lulu asked Anne expectedly.

“For sure.” The second queen hugged the small girl tightly. “Thank you for my drawings.” Anne held up the several pieces of paper Lulu had gifted her with.

“If you guys are ever up for it, I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner one night,” Jane offered.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose.” Jenna waved her off.

“None of them will care,” Anne said. “Once they meet you guys, they’ll know why all Jane talks about is you guys anymore.”

“Oh?” Jenna’s eyebrows shot up. She didn’t know her family had been the talk of the house.

“All good things I promise,” Jane assured.

“Just bring a couple pies, and you’ll have their hearts,” Anne joked.

“Noted.”

With promises of returning the following weekend, Jane and Anne made their way out of the diner, bellies full- and both with a slice of Mermaid Marshmallow pie.

As they were walking, Anne admitted, “You know, I walked into that diner intending on hating Jenna.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t though.”

“That’s good love.”

“She’s real good at baking.”

“That she is.”

“And Lulu is adorable.”

“That she is.”

“Can they come over for dinner soon? I think they’d fit in well.”

“I think they would too.”

“Hey, did you know that you and Jenna look kind of similar?”

“Oh her husband has made it known that he thinks that for a while now.”

Turns out, Jane having another friend was also a good thing for Anne: she got free pie and hot chocolate every Saturday morning now.

#six the musical #waitress the musical #six musical #waitress musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #six broadway #six us

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ibelieveinharrystyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter Seven: Chaotic Christmas

Forever? Masterlist

24th December 2016

“Simply having a wonderful Christmas time!” Harry and Ashley sang in unison as they cruised up the M1, they were on their way home for a family Christmas, which based on tradition, Linda was hosting this year. Luckily, they had timed their departure from London perfectly with Daisy’s nap, which was an accomplishment compared to how disastrous their last journey with her had been. “I’ve missed your mum’s cooking, she does make an impeccable roast,” Harry sighed, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

“If you tell her that she will love you forever,” Ashley chuckled.

“I don’t need to tell her, she already does.” Shortly after Harry’s quick witted reply Daisy stirred from her nap, crying for attention.

“We’re going to have to stop at the next service station H, she’s due a feed.”

“There’s one just up ahead, we’ll pull in there.”

Somehow Harry managed to find a space in what was a very busy car park, they clearly weren’t the only ones driving home for Christmas, Daisy was getting restless, her screams were almost deafening, “Alright Daisy my love we’re here now.” Ashley hopped out of the car, taking Daisy out of her baby seat in the back of the car, taking her round to the boot, where Harry was already grabbing the nappy bag, “Don’t bother with the buggy, I’ll just carry her, we’ll find a nice cafe in there somewhere.” The two of them weaved their way around the groups of people, Harry had his hood up in an attempt not to draw attention, even though everyone was already looking at Ashley and her screaming baby. Eventually they found a table in a little cafe where Ashley could contently feed Daisy, “You wouldn’t mind getting us some food whilst I fed her would you?” Ashley asked Harry as she made up Daisy’s bottle.

“Course, anything in particular?” Harry asked.

“Something fresh, and some apple juice if they’ve got it please.”

After a long drive up the motorway Harry, Ashley and Daisy arrived safely in the comfort of Holmes Chapel, Linda rushed out of the house greeting them all with hugs and helping Harry with the bags while Ashley carried Daisy, who had just stirred from another nap. “How was the journey up? I imagine the world and his wife were travelling up from Lonson,” Linda asked as they made their way into the house, the smell of her homemade mince pies.

“It was alright, the service station was a little crazy, but that's the price I have to pay for being best friends with a global sensation.” Ashley told her mum as she got Daisy out of her adorable little snowsuit, “Can’t take you anywhere can I Harry?”

“I’m such a troublemaker.” Harry winked, placing the bags down in the hallway and taking Daisy from Ashley so she could sort herself out. Ashley entered the perfectly decorated living room, reminding her of all her childhood Christmases, Linda always went the extra mile at Christmas, draping holly, ivy and mistletoe berries along the beams that supported the roof of the living room. A splash of colour was always something the Hanson family had opted for at Christmas, this year the tree was decorated with teal and gold decorations, growing up Ashley’s dad had always been chaotic when it came to decorating the tree, it was always his job, but he loved to attack the tree with an unorthodox method of decorating, so in a way of paying homage to him Linda always used a less traditional colour scheme every year, but still to her taste. Harry and Daisy sat on the sofa, playing with one of the many toys Linda had scattered about the living room.

Harry had gone back to spend the night at his family home before the chaos of Christmas Day, leaving Ashley and Linda eating their way through a stuffed crust pepperoni pizza, watching the intense Christmas Eve special of Coronation Street whilst Daisy played happily on the floor. “Your dad would be so proud of you, you know that don’t you?” Linda told her daughter, placing her hand on top of Ashley’s, “You’ve achieved so much this year already, moving to London, having a baby on your own, he would’ve absolutely adored Daisy.”

“I’m not on my own mum, I’ve got Harry.” Ashley reminded her.

“I know that my love, it's clear he cares very much about you both, but one day he will meet someone he wants to settle down with, and that means he probably won’t be as involved in your life.” Linda explained.

“I’m aware of that mum,” Ashley sighed, her mum wasn’t wrong, one day Harry would love another woman enough to want to marry her and have children with her, she just had to accept that, “I think I’ll take Daisy up to bed, it’s been a long day.”

“What about the mince pies?” Linda asked.

“They’ll keep till the morning, night mum.”

Usually Ashley was good at sleeping the whole night through, that was when Daisy wasn’t waking up for a feed, she laid in what was once her childhood bed completely restless and unable to get to sleep, so she concluded fresh air would do her some good. She made her way downstairs, opening the door to the back garden, the cold air nipping at her skin, she took a seat on one of the thick branches of a tree that was at the back of Anne’s garden, but had grown so much that the branches stretched, well over into Linda’s garden. Ashley and Harry spent hours when they were younger, climbing and playing games on it. “Couldn’t sleep?” the familiar voice shook her out of her daydream as she noticed Harry climbing up the tree to perch beside her.

“I’m just thinking about things,” Ashley sighed.

“What things?”

“New job kinda things,” Harry’s face appeared puzzled, “Capital have offered me a promotion, a big one, they like the increase in attention they’ve got from us being friends, and Roman needs a new co-host,” she paused, “They want me to do the breakfast show with him.”

“That's incredible Ash, but why does that require you to be sitting on our tree at 2 in the morning?”

“I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, Daisy will be barely six months old when I start in January, I don’t want to miss a massive chunk of her childhood, and it feels like I would be exploiting our friendship.” Ashley explained.

“If it's the breakfast show that's only four or so hours of the day, you could always do it for a couple of years, and when she’s off to school and needs you there in the mornings, I’m sure you will be given an even better opportunity,” Harry assured her.

“I remember when I was the one who gave you advice,” Ashley whispered resting her head on Harry’s shoulder, “Anyway, why are you out here at this time of night?”

“I’m thinking about next year, Ash it’s going to be crazily busy, with the album, tour and also the film.”

“Well whatever happens, whatever people say, you’ll always be my best friend,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers, “Now go and get some sleep, mum will be raging if you’re half asleep during Christmas Dinner.”

The following morning Ashley stirred from her sleep, she checked the time on her phone, it was well gone ten in the morning, Daisy wasn’t in her cot, Ashley chucked an old hoodie on over her pyjamas and made her way downstairs. Her mum, Harry, Anne and Gemma were sat round the dining table, indulging in croissants and pastries, Harry had Daisy sat on his knee, bouncing her along to the cheesy Christmas music that played in the background. “Merry Christmas,” Ashley smiled, greeting them all with hugs, Harry respectfully handing Daisy over. “Hello my princess, happy Christmas,” she bounced her on her hip, before taking a seat at the table, “Has she had her morning bottle?”

“Yep, first thing Harry did when they got here, he crept into your room, retrieved Daisy, and bought her down here for breakfast.” Linda told her,

“Thank you,” Ashley smiled, “I’ve actually got some news, well I made the decision last night, with the help of Harry, as of mid January, I’m going to be co-hosting the breakfast show on Capital.”

“Ashley that’s wonderful news!” Anne cried, offering her a big hug, “isn’t your mummy clever?” she whispered to Daisy, tickling her under the chin.

Ashley glanced over at her mum, who was wiping tears from under her eyes, “Are you alright mum?”

“I just know how proud your dad would be Ash, all he wanted was for you to be happy.” Linda smiffled.

“I am happy, and I’m so happy to spend Christmas day with all my favourite people.”

After an impeccable Christmas Dinner thanks to Linda, everyone took their seats around the tree, as due to tradition, Harry handed out the presents. They all took it in turns, opening their gifts, Daisy only had a few, mainly from Harry, as everyone agreed she was only little, so she wouldn’t remember Christmas that much. Harry got her a mini xylophone, some stuffed animals and of course some designer baby clothes, that Ashley didn’t dare consider the possible price of. There was one gift left under the tree for Daisy, Ashley opened it, seeing a little white teddy, “Who is this from?” She asked, all of them looking at her blankly.

“Oh that was on the doorstep when we arrived earlier.” Gemma told her.

She checked the label, making sure she knew who to thank, her heart was in her mouth, she stood up, heading to the kitchen and chucking it in the bin, Harry followed after her, noticing the sudden change in her mood. “Hey what’s wrong?”

“It’s him.” She whispered, leaning on the kitchen counter, holding her head in her hands.

“What’s him? I don’t get it.” Harry replied.

“The label on Daisy’s present said dad, Matt sent the present, what if he knows where we live? He could be outside as we speak.” She panicked.

“Hey Ash, you need to calm down,” Harry soothed, wiping her tears away from her cheeks, “This is a small town, everyone knows everyone, there is an extremely high chance he just sent it to the local post office, when I used to get all that fanmail, people literally just put my name and Holmes Chapel on it, you don’t need to worry.”

“I do though Harry, what if he wants to be part of her life? What if he wants custody of her? I can’t lose her Harry, I can’t.”

“Ashley you are an amazing mum, when you told Matt you were pregnant he went awol, no court is going to deem him a fit father.” Harry assured her, taking hold of both her hands, “As long as I’m walking this earth, I am going to do everything I can to keep you and Daisy safe, you have my word.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #one direction #one direction memes #solo harry #fanfiction #harry styles best friend fic #best friend harry #choose love #stay home stay safe #treat people with kindness #timothee aesthetic

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Glass Heart Pt 11

Something had happened, meant to have a year alone across the screen of your laptop you read the email from your Grandfather that they were all coming home. Word had rippled out because on your way through the market you could hear people from various clans sharing that even they had been contacted by their own Elders up North coming down as well out of nowhere. None of the shelves on the baking aisle seemed to be stocked at all thanks to those who had bought up all they could to ready for the Berry Festival. The lonely bunch of bagged cookie mix drew your eye and even though it wouldn’t be as good as from scratch it would do for now. A pouch for brownies was added and your head turned to find a group of Dams, all speaking about the Festival. “Dating or not I always win Thorin’s dishes.”

With a nod you said, “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer that. But okay.”

Looking you over she said, “So don’t expect to be winning that date.”

With a nod you said, “Just don’t expect a second date if you do happen to have deeper pockets than me.”

She scoffed in your turn for more food she said, “I have deeper pockets, and one day he’s going to see what a catch I would be for his clan.”

“Maybe you should have made a move sooner then.”

“Just because you’ve had a couple film nights at his castle doesn’t mean you are in a clan recognized courtship.”

Glancing back at her you said, “No, but he did let me grab his beard.” Jaws dropped as you added, “Have a nice day.”

The miles of snow couldn’t block the news from spreading and by the time you got home again beginning to unload the groceries you lifted your phone, that once pinned to your shoulder had Thorin able to purr out playfully, “You told Miki I let you grab my beard?”

“That depends, are you upset or pleased?”

Lowly he chuckled, “I am very pleased you are bragging, however I am curious how that came up over cookies.”

“Well apparently she has been buying your treats to prove she’s a better fit for your clan than I am.”

That made him scoff, “Not true, at all. For teaching me the recipe Gran would have to approve, and my clan always tries to accommodate our alone time.”

Muffled calls for Thorin had you smirking to ask, “Did you pull away from your lesson to call me?”

“Maybe. I’ll try to sneak away tonight, maybe give you some more to brag about, Garfield.”

“Have fun Pookie.” You said hanging up as he did to finish putting food away and start on your meal while your room warmed up again thanks to the burning fire.

Fili and Kili however beat him to the punch and took to enjoying the snow on your land with you while their younger cousins used up all of theirs. Each day spending more time with you to tide over their impatience for when they might be able to play with their baby sisters. The girls who in your two dinners at the Durin home enjoyed being tucked in your arms afterwards taking hold of your hair and reaching up to grab at your ears.

Bustling crowds of townspeople passed from one end of the Festival to the other. Every stand and game section much like the fair before with mini rivaling chosen foods the town would vote on to settle which clan was the victor this year. From the moment you were out of your car those close to you took notice of Thorin in his sneak up to you draping his arms around your middle to plant a kiss onto your cheek. “There you are Garfield. Sorry, had to drop off my dish, now I am all yours.”

With a giggle you said, “Just let me get my barbeque pops.”

He smirked asking, “Barbeque pops?” Watching you dip back into the car to pull out your covered basket that once was in his view his mouth watered, “Please tell me those are your Adad’s meat pies.”

Smirking up at him you said, “Perhaps, just have to go drop them off to the raffle.”

“Next date night at yours we are having those.”

“Oh so now you’re inviting yourself over and planning the menu?” You teased luring him in to playfully plant a kiss on your lips and grumble at your poke to his side on a ticklish spot at his try to reach behind you and claim one of the pops in the basket. “No stealing, buy a ticket.”

Around your back he slung his arm to escort you to the stand where your goods would be dropped off and tagged while he paid for a raffle ticket he hoped to match your tag on the basket that had more curious Dwarves to buy tickets as well wondering what it was.

From there game stands and mini dances and songs from both children’s groups and adults played to traditional markers to pass the day until the big event at the end. Though patiently you waited with him draped behind you resting his head on yours luring smiles from his kin seeing the two of you so comfortably entangled. Behind the stand a Dam was winding a bracelet from colored string and beads, around your wrist she tied it with the second her sister had wound for Thorin. In exchange for them a trade was offered of a jar of your honey they would pick up in a few days beginning more of the townspeople requesting the same having missed the Blacklock honey.

In the middle of your outing over the speakers a roundup call of all men involved in the auction were called and right in view of Miki and her friends when you turned your head to look to Thorin his hand found your cheek and warmly his lips planted on yours in a loving kiss. “Blue bow with rams.” A second quick kiss was claimed and you were left alone sighing while you joined the other women aiming to bid on the desserts.

Off to the side of the dessert coated podium was another raised platform with seats with the men in them waiting to be ordered out to join their high bidders. Round tables sat waiting for those bidding surrounded by those looking on. With bear paddle in hand you settled in your chair watching Riki approaching the mic ready to start the show. Off the table behind him you could see the baskets and by your guess they would go in order of how the men were seated. To yourself you kept your plan post caught distant hushed conversation hours prior of the group of Dams planning on simply outbidding you on every basket you chose.

“Let’s get this started.” Smoothing his palms together he said, “Tarts, it would appear to be. Quite tasty tarts by the look of it, with perfect fruit bits scattered on top in some sugar. Starting at ten. Who will give me ten?”

The basket was accented in pink but Thorin and his cousins watched your paddle go up followed by more through the crowd upping each bid until you stopped catching Nori’s face seeing you were up against his intended quickly ending the game once your bid didn’t come after two from the group of vultures hoping to steal Thorin’s away.

Turo was next and for a surprising hundred for his he hurried to his best friend’s wife chuckling at their preplanned yearly agreement for her to buy her favorite dessert of his.

Two more Dwarves came next with a vulture down for a stunning 300 taking her out of the bidding, right before Bombur’s who drew as always the biggest haul at 3500. A few bids from you had one of the vultures down and Bifur took down another.

Leaving the next vulture you waited a couple baskets then got to bidding again once luring Thorin and Ferin up on the platform to murmur with Gloin and Dwalin on what you were up to as you successfully kept bidding Miki up and up on Bofur’s basket. Leaving him and the crowd, including the confused Durins, to pivot their heads between you two until you shook your head at 4250. Money in hand she laughed in your face earning only a smirk from you until she saw Bofur standing to collect his basket and bring it over. Just a moment she realized her friends were seated beside the baker of their baskets making her look to you and shake her head that she fell for your bluff bidding then turned to grin at Bofur, pleased at her chosen dessert she was left to over Thorin’s.

Frerin smirked leaning in to whisper, “She’s pinching purses.”

Thorin and Dwalin looked to the packed table across from yours and the latter chuckled out, “I think you’re right.”

One by one the others were claimed with your continued help on building bids to drift off in affordable ranges for those seeming to not be sold for much previous years. Until from the five women left you stood to hand over the cash to Oin, ignoring Thorin’s un-help-able grin at your snatching his basket for 1500 lost to you a moment when he turned to claim it before his trot over to show you to settle down beside you.

Holding his basket he smiled at you making you giggle and shake your head when you sat again at the confirming count of your cash before his move to ease his arm around your back in a scoot closer to your side. Lowly he murmured to you by your ear, “I know what you did.”

“I won your basket is what I did.”

Against your ear he whispered, “Purse pincher,”

Shaking your head you whispered back, “I would never-,” making him chuckle at your giggle to Dwalin’s cheer being claimed by Bilbo and getting to lift his little girl up again and kiss her cheek after her fussing wanting the trio to be together again.

Ferin was the final one and it seemed to be another all out inch from a brawl bidding war making you ask, “What did he put in the basket?”

To which Thorin replied, “Both have been aiming for dinners with him since moving to town last fall.”

“Ooh, I can see that.” He smirked at you playfully when you tapped a finger to his cheek blindly, “The scowl.”

Another selection of baskets were brought up and Riki grinned once Frerin smirked settling in beside his bidding Hobbit’s side glad it was the one he had a crush on over the one who liked to try and pinch him when possible. Up to the mic Riki walked with a grin, “Now for our clan raffle baskets. Kindly get out your tickets.”

Yours was obvious as it was shaped like a giant hive with bears walking and climbing around it and Thorin stole one more glance at the ticket resting in the hand of the arm resting on the table behind you and back to Riki confirming he had the number right.

“486!” Riki called out and turning his head Thorin caught Bofur’s slide back from a faked stretch swapping tickets making Thorin smirk at Bofur’s signing he wanted two of whatever you had made. Eyeing the ticket he lifted turning your head, “Ah! How fitting, to have your sweetheart’s basket.” Leaving the basket on his lap in your hold he stood and hurried up to the stage accepting the basket he carried back to you and opened making Bofur groan almost regrettably before sniffing the pair of savory pops he took hold of from Thorin who lowered the lid again and extended a hand to guide you off to his chosen picnic spot. Smirking all his way weaving through the crowds to guide you to something closer to privacy.

Between two trees a blanket sat waiting for you to relax upon. Tucking his legs around you he lounged against the pile of pillows propped against a large boulder easing your basket closer to his legs while you opened the lid on his giving the blackberry crumble a curious sniff. “Mhmm, smells good.”

“Gran made certain I got it right. Mmmm,” the latter he rumbled to himself removing the lid of your basket he pulled one of your pops out, “Thank you, for making these. They smell fantastic.”

“I made three batches, two did not survive to the basket,” making him chuckle, lowly his pleased hum came in tasting the first pop. “And that’s why.”

“Oh this is amazing,” he rumbled around his mouthful soon joined by more finishing the pop off setting the stick it was on beside him. After a few moments and you had taken a bite of one of the oh so gooey and perfect mug sized blackberry crumbles with the spoon inside the basket he said, “For a few moments there I did think you might end up with someone else’s basket. Seemed you wanted theirs more.”

Rolling your eyes you said, “If you mean by my bid amounts I overheard Miki and her group say how much they had boasting they could outbid me. Which, they could have. I only had 1500 cash.”

Thorin’s head tilted and you caught his eye as he said, “Jaqi, if you need-,”

You shook your head, “I have thousands till payday in the bank, that was all my cash.”

“If you do ever need cash-,”

“I know whose windows to toss stones at.” Making him chuckle then glance up to his family coming to join you smirking between glances at the baskets. Stealing one more pop Thorin offered the rest to share while even Frerin on his way to his picnic spot snuck over to claim a bite of your crumble then wink on his way back to his still smiling date.

It was a good thing the trade had gone as it had, in Bofur’s new basket sat stuffed mushrooms him and his brothers shared loving the deadly meal you could not have kissed Thorin had he eaten or even nibbled on one of them.

Room by room the barn was emptied back into the castle with your cousin’s crew helping you to settle it all back into place in your try to get it all ready for your family returning early. Vacuuming and dusting came next to perfect each room leaving the unpacking of the dishes left to each kitchen in the suites and main kitchen. Carefully unpacked and washed in being put up the castle seemed to come to life with so many memories flooding back to you. Mainly those of your father tat led to you unpacking his suite last. With loving care his bed was assembled and made up, pillows placed just how he had left them stroked with your palm remembering sharing them with him. Pictures around the bed were settled leaving his walls of books. Each one holding echoes of his voice reading them aloud placed right back in the precise order with the shelf of those you had written propped on the stands he made. Curled up on the foot of his bed you curled up for more than one night clinging to the bear from your room he had given you at your leaving you sprayed with some of his cologne left over from his bath supplies.

Early morning a distant doorbell had you sitting up inhaling sharply from your cocoon of blankets you fixed carrying your bear left in your room on the way to the door. Echoes through the house hurried you along until across the main hall you slowed seeing who had let themselves in, “Gramps.”

Turned to face you the burly thick bearded Dwarf turned fully accepting your tight hug when you had closed the gap between you hugging you tightly in return. “Hello little bear. Wanted to make sure you were up for us.”

You pulled back saying, “Welcome home.” Looking over his face seeing something was off you asked, “But, I thought you weren’t coming back for months. What’s wrong?”

“Well-,”

“Where is my Bear?!” The voice coming from behind your uncles, two from the set of triplets your father was a part of looked to you over the heads of their eldest sons who were just smiling your way. “You promised me my Bear would be here!”

Gently ushering you to the door your Grandfather walked with you as they parted leaving you to tears seeing your father stepping through who quickly crossed to you engulfing you in his tight hug closing his eyes to the tear dropping over his back to the clenching of fingers into the back of his shirt. Broken and terribly frail you muttered, “Adad-?!”

Behind his back when you managed to open your eyes again your great uncle stated, “We got a notice from the Northern Forces a number of our kin were found in a hidden prison camp. Many could barely remember their names, most of our time up North was aiding their recovery. Your videos helped, so very much.”

Another formerly assumed lost uncle came into view smiling and nodding to you in your smile his way trying to not look at his metal foot reflecting sunlight. Into your shoulder in the tightening of his grip your father said, “I knew only you could heal our home, my little Bear.”

Nestling your head against his eased his, whispering, “I hoped I’d find you here.”

Once finally let down you wiped his cheeks and he took hold of your hands unwilling to let go of contact with you just yet, “Full tour, little bear?”

With a nod you replied, “Sure.” Turning he released one hand to keep one arm behind your back with the other holding your hand in front of his belly. Beaming brightly at each room you showed off to your ecstatic clan taking in the castle slowly lighting from the rising sun that once you had shown him the renovated tower all joined you out to the back courtyard and brand new gardens. The perfect recreations leaving some to tears with pride at their restored clan lands while you caught faint echoes of whispers that major members of other clans had returned home as well with their Elders.

Soon you would find among them in the Durin clan were Fundin, father of Dwalin and Balin, as well as Thorin, Dis and Frerin’s father Thrain. Dain’s uncle as well had returned to the Iron Hills and while it was happy times for the returned relatives still some healing was left to do and in resettling those returned would be eased into all that had been missed. Namely the topics of courtships and unions with footage shared would come up. At the dinner table for you, though where the Durins were easily a welcome clan to marry into your father rightfully so would ensure that Thorin left no stone unturned when courting you.

Late night calls came with congratulations as your father showered prior to an agreed upon story time to hear the tales you had written for him he wished to hear again to know he hadn’t made them up surely ending in curling up together. From said calls at Thrain’s urging by morning in the group breakfast on the main floor a formal penned request to sit for a potato dish with your father came tugging a smirk across his lips. A mark that announced his wish to begin earning the right to court you formerly, and more importantly prove to him that Thorin would be the best life partner to bond the clans in matrimony.

All – @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

x Thorin – @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @queenoferebor

@sdavid09, @sherala007

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #glassblower x sculptor au #modern au

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anindecisivespirit · 4 years

Text

Mary’s Song

This is just a short little thing I wrote a while ago because I was bored. I figure, why not post it? I’m bored again, after all.

Words: about 1840

Warnings: uh... Mention of burns, scars, and the attempted murder of a child. Other than that there’s not really anything?

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

There was once a young girl, whose name hasn't been important for a very long time, but for the sake of this story we will simply call Mary.

Mary had a childhood that she called ordinary, but most would call odd. But to her, but the frequent shivers of people walking over her future grave only meant that when she was buried, she'd have a lot of company. Others said she looked sick, shivering as she did. She didn't mind.

And many thought it strange, how crows and rats and cats swarmed around her home. She thought they liked the berries in her yard, and the pies she left on the windowsill.

But there were things she couldn't explain. The way shadows moved with nothing to cast them. Messes cleaned themselves, as long as she wasn't watching. She didn't understand these things, but that didn't really bother her.

But one night, Mary was woken up. A song rang through the house, a song her mother often sang. And that couldn't be right, because her mother had been dead for years. She had died when Mary was eight.

She slipped into the living room, and there stood a shadow of a man. His skin and hair were black as night, his robes somehow darker. So dark they warped the air around them. His eyes gleamed, bright green and white, nearly glowing against the black of his face.

And he smiled when he saw her, the song cutting off. He'd been the one singing, she realized, though his voice was indistinct. Soft and warm as a mother's lullaby, and hard and strained as a scream.

"Mary," he said softly, "it's good to see you again."

"Well," Mary said slowly, not very frightened for this man felt kind. "I've never seen you. So I suppose it's good to see you for the first time."

And he frowned.

"Are you certain?" he asked, worried and perhaps even slightly scared. "Are you sure you've never seen me, not even once?"

"Yes," she said. She felt she would recall this shadow, had she seen him before. "But when have you seen me? Do you know my mother?"

"I think you meant did I," The man said. He crouched down, until he was her height. He was tall enough standing that he'd have to duck under the doorways, and even at twelve Mary was short.

"Alright. Then did you know her?" Mary tried again. The man nodded.

"I did, but I met her only once. If she'd been alive still, I wouldn't be here. Not in the house, or the yard- not even the street."

"Then," Mary began, "she didn't like you?"

"No," he said. "Though I never liked her much either."

"Then why are you here?" she asked. The man's roundabout talking was rather annoying. This was Mary's house. He should speak clearly. "You can't know me. Did you know my father too?"

The man shook his head.

"You never had a father," he said. "Even your mother was never truly yours. And I do know you. I have, since the day you were born."

"No," Mary said. "No, that can't be right."

"Can't it?" he asked, tilting his head. "Have you never wondered why the beasts sing when you greet them? Why the moon shines all the brighter when it sees you? Why the birds circle above your head- Or, perhaps, how you got that scar?"

She looked down at her hand, where a raised pink scar disappeared beneath her sleeve, stretching across her arm to her chest.

"It was a camping accident," she said quietly. "I fell into the fire."

The man shook his head, looking slightly desperate now.

"Your mother told you things that you must learn to let go," he said gently. "Likewise, she hid things from you. Did she ever tell you of the Wildwood, where goblins and ghouls roam free? Where dragons lurk among the trees, where shades dance and specters sing? The witches and warlocks, who've power over night and day?

"Have you heard of the pixies and of their cousins the fae? The way the branches twist, dance, and sway?"

Mary shook her head. She'd never heard of such things. But she could remember, now, a glen. A green garden of a forest, with shadows that danced with nothing to cast them. Of the light refracting in translucent wings. Of scales so vibrant, they nearly glowed. Music, and laughter, and life.

But she had never seen a forest like that. She'd only seen the sad, small trees of the woods in the park.

"Please," Mary said, though she was very nearly begging. "Tell me what's going on. Why do I remember that? I've never seen it!"

The man drew back, half a pained surprise, and half a strained knowledge.

"Oh, how I wish, little one," he said softly. "That I could take all your troubles away."

"Please," she repeated. He smiled softly.

"There was a time you knew us- all of us," he said. "When the wind whispered in your ears, and the goblins crafted you crowns of gold. When you pulled the shades from the earth into being, and conversed with ghouls. All the fae would speak to you, and you knew all their names."

Mary felt tears falling down her face, of love and loss and heartbreak, and everything underneath.

"I don't know what you mean," she said desperately. She wanted so badly for him to stop, but she needed to hear him say more. She could remember. She could remember the ghosts that would smile only at her, the way the trees bowed as she passed. She remembered pulling shades from the ground, so that they could more easily dance and find their voices and sing. But she had never done it. She can't have.

"And the creatures of the earth, and the moon, the stars, even the ground itself," he continued, "saw you. Saw this child and saw everything. Their ward, their heir, their friend... All but one.

"And the creatures were silent. Silent. Waiting for a gasp or scream. The oil burned like fire, but cold and dark as ire. And the child was only quiet. She fell to the earth without even a sigh. And the Wildwood, it felt it, and the witch was struck down in a second.

"But the oil - so tainted the wicked would stay their blades for fear of it - had done too much by then. Burning and corrupting, tearing at body and mind," his voice was so quiet now. As if speaking any louder would shatter the very air itself. "The earth would have enveloped her, kept her safe til the magic of the Wildwood healed her. But it froze at the presence of a stranger.

"A mortal woman," he said. Mary knew, without a doubt, that it was her mother who had stumbled into the glade then. "The stranger didn't see the spirits, and the fae and pixies had hid. But she saw the child covered in burns, saw the shadows cast all around her, and the man made of darkness-" his voice gained a touch of bitterness at that, "-standing at her side."

"Oh," Mary said, because she could tell how this ended. Why this shadow of a man - or, actually, this shade that had been pulled from the earth and forced to remain - was telling her this.

"The woman acted without thought," he said. "She took the child and cared for her. But she had the cause of the damage wrong. It hadn't been the Wildwood, nor a shade or dragon or goblin. But the one foolish witch, who acted on malice and greed.

"To keep everyone away, the woman learned and cast spells. None of us could reach you, Mary. None save the brownies and shades," he smiled slightly, though he seemed sad, "The ones still tied to the earth, at least. They helped you. Made certain you weren't alone, that you were cared for, and the house was clean. But any attention you gave them would only make the wards stronger. "

Mary thinks she might have known that. Thinks that maybe that's why she never gave the shadows and moving objects much thought. She knew that they were kind, and she didn't want them to leave.

Tears threatened her again. Pain, loss, and fear.

She wanted to say she didn't remember. But she did. The glade, the trees, the earth. The animals and creatures of the wood. The names of fae, who knew what she could do with them and gave them anyway, who never asked her name even then, for worry of earning her fear. She even recalled pulling this specific shade from the earth. Remembered how he sang and danced with his brothers and sisters. How she had lowered them each back save for him, because that's when the witch came.

"How did you know?" she found herself whispering, having no other words that would come. "Where I was?"

He smiled, standing to his full height.

"The birds kept an eye on you, and the cats listened. The rats watched and the serpents looked for ways the brownies could slip through," he said. "The Wildwood, I'm sure you can remember, has roots in every corner of the earth. As such, the animals all hear its wants, and they ensured your safety where the shades could not."

"So then- then my mother-"

"She loved you," he interrupted. "Very much. But she didn't know who you were, and made assumptions of us we couldn't dissuade. But she did love you."

Mary believed it. Her memory only stretched back to the age of six, and her mother died in her eighth year, but she believed it.

Without even a thought, she flung herself into the shade's arms. He caught her easily. She knew he would. Just as she knew that he would never hurt her. That the moment he ever did would be the moment he burned himself away.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He hesitated, before wrapping his arms around her. He was cold, but in a comforting sort of way.

"Oh, Mary... What are you talking about?"

"I never- never let you back into the earth with your family. They can't talk to you like this," she said. He paused.

"Do- do you remember, then?" he asked quietly. "Remember me? Remember them?"

"A little bit. Not much," she said. "Not much of anything."

"That's alright," he said. "You've only a hundred years to remember. When you return to the Wildwood, you'll have a few hundred more to figure it all out."

He let her go then, frowning.

"If... If you want to return?" he asked. She nodded.

"I... I need to see it again," she said. He smiled

"Then let's go see it."

And together, they went home, to the very heart of the wood. And the girl we simply call Mary - for her name has not been heard by any mortal ear for thousands of years - returned, and remembered, and the very world seemed to thrive.

#writing #my writing #original story #not sure what else to tag this with

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treadmilltreats · 4 years

Text

Who this president truly is

'Being president doesn't change who you are, it reveals who you are.” Former First Lady Michelle Obama has said.

This is such a powerful statement, especially in these times. One of my favorite quotes is from Maya Angelou "People will tell you who they are"

So America, are you listening?

We got 2 days left for the biggest decision of our lives, this is literally the vote of our lifetime.

At this moment, we know that #45 has definitely revealed who he is, and what he stands for. There are so many things he has said, that came out of his own mouth, that definitely isn't fake news, no matter how much his supporters want to spin that.

Well...where do we start….

How about that Women are pigs…

On Carly Fiorina

"Look at that face. Would anybody vote for that? Can you imagine that, the face of our next president? I mean, she's a woman, and I'm not supposed to say bad things, but really, folks, come on. Are we serious?" [Sept. 9, 2015]

"Why does she keep interrupting everybody?" [Nov. 10, 2015]

On Jessica Chastain

"She's certainly not hot." [February 2013]

On Stormy Daniels

"Horseface" [Oct. 16, 2018]

On Halle Berry

"I love her … upper body." [February 2013]

To the removal of our beautiful statues and monuments.

In a speech from Trump Tower, Trump said there were "very fine people" on both sides of the protests.

White supremacist leaders, including former KKK leader David Duke, have praised Trump for his "honesty," while critics have slammed him for putting neo-Nazis and anti-fascist resisters on the same moral plane.

Laziness is a trait in blacks

“I have black guys counting my money. … I hate it,” Trump went on to say “The only guys I want counting my money are short guys that wear yarmulkes all day.”

"He's a war hero because he was captured, I like people who weren't captured"

Trump, who never served in Vietnam, and who received multiple deferments to avoid service, had this to say in July 2015 about U.S. Sen. John McCain, R-Ariz., a naval aviator who spent five years in a North Vietnamese prison camp, where he was tortured.

"Jeb Bush has to like the Mexican illegals because of his wife"

Trump retweeted this - and then thought better and deleted the post, on July 4, 2015.

'The Japs'

In a 1989 interview with Time magazine, Trump dropped this doozy when he was asked to ballpark his total wealth.

“Who the f knows? I mean, really, who knows how much the Japs will pay for Manhattan property these days?” he said, employing a common racial slur for the Japanese.

'There was blood coming out of her wherever'

Trump made these remarks after he was manhandled during a primary season debate by former Fox News host Megyn Kelly. Trump also denounced Kelly, a respected journalist as a "lightweight,"

'I am the least racist person there is'

Simply not supported by the available evidence and truly laughable.

'No need to spill the beans'

In 2016, Trump retweeted an image negatively comparing the looks of his wife Melania Trump, a former fashion model, and Heidi Cruz, the wife of then-primary rival, Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas.

Cruz went on offense, defending his wife: "Donald, real men don't attack women. Your wife is lovely, and Heidi is the love of my life."

'She was bleeding badly from a facelift'

So what is it with Trump and blood anyway? He directed these offensive comments toward MSNBC anchor and "Morning Joe" co-host Mika Brezinski. As The New York Times reported:

"The president described Ms. Brzezinski as "low I.Q. Crazy Mika" and claimed in a series of Twitter posts that she had been "bleeding badly from a face-lift" during a social gathering at Mr. Trump's resort in Florida around New Year's Eve. The White House did not explain what had prompted the outburst, but a spokeswoman said Ms. Brzezinski deserved a rebuke because of her show's harsh stance on Mr. Trump."

YES - they really did go with the "she was asking for it" defense.

'Grab them by the p***y'

Trump has said some pretty terrible things about women during his 71 years of wandering this Earth. But these remarks to a former "Access Hollywood" host might be the sine qua non to understanding his attitude.

'Some, I assume, are good people.'

The racist gaffe heard 'round the world: Trump said of Mexico.

"They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. And some, I assume, are good people."

These are quotes and tweets this man who is supposedly running our country has said. How great have we've become in these last 4 years? Were we having more racial unrest than ever? When black men are being hung once again? When he stirs the pot by saying "Stand by and stand tall"

When he calls people who are not like him names, when he belittle and demeans women? When he is trying to divide us instead of bringing us together?

This man is out for himself and his "white friends" he doesn't care about anyone but himself. He literally wants us to go back into the 50's where blacks had no rights, women had no choice and the LGBT community were in the closet. Instead of moving us forward, he is moving us backwards.

So today my friends, remember all of this when you vote but more importantly remember this if you are not voting, if you think your vote doesn't count, if you are undecided, this is what you are voting for. This is the character of the man who wants to run our country for four more years.

This vote is literally depending on you, it is your life. Your vote affects the women in your lives choice, if you're black or of color this could mean life or death for you and your loved ones. If you are LGBT or know someone that is this is a vote to keep them free and living how they want to.

Please, please... I am begging you to vote as if your life depends on it because it does.

"Be the change you want to see"

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

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voyager-into-the-unknown · 5 years

Text

Here’s the final chapter of the Pikelavar fic I have been writing! 💙💚

There’s a bit of Hunay and a lot of Kallura in this fluffy Plance fic based on their characters from “Monsters and Mana.” AO3’s PlanceGardener21 proudly presents

“All I Want for Midwinter Is Meklavar”

Chapter 7:

Festival

When Meklavar’s family had finally left their bedroom at the Green Lion Inn, she and Pike made haste to get ready for a day of travel. Servants had delivered their clean clothes, and while Pike was behind the privacy screen to relieve himself and have a quick wash, Mek, who had already done these things, had hasilty combed her hair, removed her robe and sleeping tunic, and changed into a modest green bandeau with matching briefs. She was just putting on her warmest pair of socks when Pike stepped back into their bedroom, clad only in his brief blue underpants. They blushed at each other, but continued to quickly dress, both of them donning warm trousers, heavy under tunics, woolen outertunics, boots, belts, and cloaks. Mek didn’t bother with her armor, but had it carried down to her parents’ sleigh along with their traveling packs. Downstairs, they sought out the Innkeeper to make sure their bill was paid in full, but Meklavar’s parents had already taken care of everything. Breakfast was in the common room with Lord and Lady Holt and Mek’s brother, who had already eaten. They were content to have some more hot tea before departing, sipping it slowly while keeping Pike and Meklavar company as the young couple dined upon hot buttered bread, bacon, porridge, fruit pastries, and tea. Lady Colleena was already planning the wedding, hoping to have a huge celebration with every noble in the land in attendance at Holt Manor. And of course, she intended to have the most elaborate wedding gown imaginable designed for her daughter, but Mek wouldn’t hear of it, preferring a simple ceremony for just their close friends and family members. She would have been content to wear her armor for the ceremony, but her mother protested, claiming that Pike would rather see her in a gorgeous gown that showed off her feminine attributes.

“I’ll bet Pike has already seen most of her feminine attributes by now,” Matthias mumbled softly, hoping his mother would not overhear. However, Lord Samuel did hear his son’s comment and nearly choked on his tea. Pike blushed and looked guiltily down at his plate. Meklavar continued to argue with her mother about the wedding gown, but they stopped when Pike finally spoke up and said, “I think she will look beautiful no matter what she wears, even if she chooses to wear her finest armor, but I must confess I haven’t ever seen Meklavar in a dress, and I think she would look lovely in the gown that you’re describing, m’lady. I think that seeing her arrayed in beads and silks like an elf princess from an old faerie tale would leave an indelible impression upon my memory.”

Meklavar gaped at him and had not another word to say to her mother about the dress.

When Pike and Meklavar had finished their breakfast, the little group made their way outside into the cold where a spacious red sleigh awaited them. The servants had securely fastened their traveling packs and Mek’s armor and axe to the luggage rack at the rear of the sleigh. In the center of the vehicle were tall, upholstered seats and thick, warm blankets, and in front, a driver’s seat with reigns that were connected to a team of large shaggy snow deer. Matt vaulted into the driver’s seat and waited for his passengers to settle into their seats behind him. Lord and Lady Holt shared one of the heavy blankets in the front seat. Pike sat beside Meklavar on the back seat, arranging one of the heavy blankets over their laps, and draping one of his long arms around her narrow shoulders in an all-too-familiar way. She smiled at him and leaned into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. He kissed the top of her head, and off they went with sleigh bells jingling, gliding smoothly across the snowy ground in the direction of Block’s village and the Midwinter Festival.

Travel by sleigh was much faster than travel on foot, and they made it to the town by mid-morning. Mek stood up and called out the directions to Block’s new home, and when they arrived, Block barreled down the front staircase of the enormous house and out onto the street to greet them, crushing both Pike and Meklavar in a mighty hug, kissing the hand of Lady Colleena and shaking hands with Lord Samuel. Matthias had lept down from the driver’s seat to hug Block as well, and he pounded Matt on the back so hard that he nearly fell over. “My friends! It is so great to see you all!”

“We’re happy to see you, too, Block!” Meklavar exclaimed, hugging her friend once more.

“We’ve missed you, buddy!” said Pike, patting him on the back. “Thanks for inviting us over for the festival.”

The front door opened once again, and Jiro and Thunder descended the staircase to exchange cheerful greetings with Pike and the Holt family.

“We’ll help with your luggage,” said the tall Paladin as he and Block began unloading their things.

Thunder looked at Matthias. “The stable is this way. I’ll help you tend to your animals.” And off they went with the empty sleigh and exhausted reindeer. The others followed Block into the house.

In Block’s spacious parlor was an enormous fir tree that Valayun and Romella were busy decorating with fairy lights, glowing baubles, and gilded pine cones. They paused in their work, turned to the guests, and dashed to embrace them all in turn.

“You must be freezing! Come and get warm by the fireplace,” said Romella.

“You can hang your cloaks over here,” said Val, indicating a nearby wall with pegs for many traveling cloaks.

“Lord and Lady Holt, your guest room is this way,” said Jiro, who was carrying their trunk upstairs. They followed him.

Block had set down Pike and Meklavar’s gear. “The girls are sharing a room, and so are Jiro and Thunder. There’s room for Pike there as well, assuming Mek is willing to share a room with her brother.”

Matthias and Thunder returned from the stable just then, and listened in on the conversation.

“Actually, could you ask my brother to stay with Jiro and Thunder?” Meklavar said, her cheeks pink, and not just from the cold.

“But that would leave only one room left for you. Where would Pike be sleeping?” Block asked.

Pike exchanged glances with Meklavar, and grinned a bit sheepishly. “Block, remember that cabin near the edge of the forest that you told us about?”

Block’s eyebrows lifted. “Nice place. Wait, did you two spend the night there?”

“Three nights, actually,” Pike said with a sly grin. “And there’s only one bed.” He waggled his eyebrows. Val gasped, scandalized, but Romella squealed with delight.

Thunder made a face of disgust. “Ugh, please tell me you didn’t invite Pike to share the bed with you.” Matt cackled at this remark.

Block’s jaw dropped. “Ohmygoodness! Are you two—? Have you been—? Mek, do your parents know?”

Meklavar laughed. “Yes, we are together. No, we haven’t been having sex. And yes, my parents know that we have started the rituals. Pike is my Intended.”

“We have received their blessings just this morning,” Pike said proudly, his arm around Meklavar.

Block and the girls cheered and shouted words of a congratulatory nature at the young couple. Thunder clutched his belly and pretended to retch. Matthias continued to laugh.

“You should have seen the looks on their faces this morning when Mom and Dad caught them in bed together at The Green Lion Inn. Pike had his shirt off and the top fasteners of my sister’s sleeping tunic were undone,” Matt said with a wicked gleam in his eye.

Pike’s face went scarlet. “It was all very innocent! Nothing inappropriate happened!”

“It’s true. Pike has been a perfect gentleman,” Mek said, coming to his defense. “Anyway, we are not consummating until after the wedding ceremony.”

“Yeah, but she gave him the ritual bath last night. All the servants at The Green Lion were gossiping about it this morning, like it was something from one of those bawdy bodice-ripper tavern songs. Apparently they think my sister’s boyfriend is some kind of feline sex god.”

“Me-Ow!” teased Romella.

Block roared with laughter. “A feline sex god?” He wiped away a tear. “Stop, Matt, you’re killing me!” Pike glared at his friend. “Sorry, man,” Block said, wiping away another tear of mirth.

“Meklavar, it isn’t too late to get him neutered,” said Thunder. “Do you really want to have kittens with this guy?” Matt howled with laughter at that comment.

“Mind your own business, Blunder.”

“I was just teasing, Puke.”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough you two. I really need to get back to work on the feast, so try not to kill each other while I’m away. Lunch is almost ready. Make yourselves at home,” said Block as he headed towards the kitchen.

“Allright, truce,” said Thunder. “It’s the holiday season, after all. So in all seriousness, congratulations to you two.”

The black-haired half-elf extended his right hand. Pike shook it. “Thanks.”

“I’m only being nice for Meklavar’s sake.”

“I know.”

Thunder smiled at them, and picked up Meklavar’s traveling pack. “Come on, you two lovebirds. I’ll show you to your nest.” They gathered the rest of their belongings and followed him upstairs.

After the travelers unpacked and settled into their rooms, then placed all of their brightly wrapped packages under the holiday tree, everyone met downstairs in the dining hall. Meklavar helped Val set the table, and as soon as everyone was seated, Romella, Block, and Block’s girlfriend, Shea, had appeared with platters of food from the kitchen. They sat down to a feast fit for a king: baked ham, turkey, jellied fruit sauces, stuffing, seasoned vegetables, and a selection of berry and nut pies.

“Block, this is the best Midwinter Feast I have ever tasted!”

“Here! Here! A toast to the chef!”

“All hail Block, greatest cook in the three lands!”

“Cheers!” They exclaimed as they clinked their glasses together.

After they finished their desserts, the group sat in the parlor to open the gifts that they had placed under the tree. Mek had been eager to give her parents and her brother the gifts she had been carrying in the bottom of her pack for over a month: perfume from the Southern Isles for her mother, an enchanted miniature precision timepiece for her father, and a copy of a rare treatise on arithmancy for her brother. Block was having a bit of fun with the spring of mistletoe that Pike had saved from the day that he kissed Meklavar for the first time. Block enchanted it to float around the room, following a chosen target until they received a kiss from a loved one. So far he had gotten Lord and Lady Holt to kiss once, Pike and Meklavar to kiss twice, and he had even managed to steal a kiss from Shea three times. The enchanted mistletoe followed Val around, but every time Matt came near her, she fled, which resulted in laughter around the room from everyone except Thunder, who watched Val with interest, but looked away every time she looked at him.

Block loved the new belt pouch Pike had given him, and the unbreakable crystal potion flask the Meklavar had chosen for him fit perfectly in the new belt pouch, as if they were meant to be together. He had new sorcerer’s robes from Jiro and Thunder, and a fine pair of seven league boots from Val. Shea had bought him new cookware for his excellent kitchen, and Romella had gifted him a rare book of elvish recipes.

Val was delighted with the magical summoning and healing arrow heads Pike gave her, and she gushed over the sparkly hair comb that Mek had picked out for her. She wore it in her hair for the rest of the day, and Thunder commented that it looked beautiful because it brought out the sparkle in her eyes. Val blushed at the handsome half-elf’s compliment, and blushed even more when he gave her his gift, a pendant with a pink stone in the shape of a heart framed by clear, shiny crystals. The spring of enchanted mistletoe which had been floating around the room hovered over Thunder’s head, and Val took advantage of the perfect moment to grab him and kiss him softly on the lips. Everyone else cheered, even Pike. Thunder was pink-cheeked but smiling. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Val for the rest of the afternoon. Thunder thanked Pike for the lightweight elven cloak Pike had given him, and seemed even more pleased to receive the silver knotwork brooch that Meklavar had presented him, especially when Val pinned it on him and told him he looked “quite handsome” in his new attire.

Romella had received an assortment of new hair ornaments and bracelets and tunics from her friends, and Shea had a fine new belt, purse, anklets and wristlets among her gifts. Jiro loved the food pouch that Pike and Meklavar had given him, and the excellent new belt and scabbard for his sword that had been a gift from Thunder and Val.

When nearly all of the presents had been opened, Pike cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention. “As you know, Meklavar has chosen me to be her Intended, and we have begun the traditional dwarven rituals of courtship. But what everyone should know is that my people have their own customs with regards to marriage. Meklavar—“ he handed her a small, carefully wrapped box and knelt before her. “Open it.”

Meklavar opened the package nervously, knowing that every pair of eyes in the room was upon her. When she opened the little box, there was a ring inside of it, with gleaming blue and green stones...

“This is the ring that I was admiring in Talarian City...” she began to cry. “Pike, you must have spent nearly all of your gold on this.”

He smiled and nodded, embarrassed.

“It’s too much... the gems...”

“Blue for my clan and green for your House,” he said simply.

“This metal, Pike, do you understand what it is? What this means?” The Holt family apparently did, for they were all wide-eyed with disbelief.

“I thought it was some type of silver,” he said, “but—“

“Mithril.” Her cheeks were damp with tears of happiness and wonder. “The most rare, sacred, and precious metal of my people. A vow sealed with mithril is unbreakabke. Pure. Eternal.”

Pike’s eyes were now overflowing with tears. “I-I didn’t know. I just saw you admiring it. I wanted to get it for you because I just knew it was meant for you. It may be magic because I felt it calling to me. This was before you chose me to be your Intended. I didn’t know how you felt, I only knew what I felt. I have loved you for a such very long time, Mek.” He paused to wipe his face on his sleeve. “I knew only that I wanted to give you this ring. That maybe, when the time was right, I would ask you—“ He choked back a sob. “My people have a tradition...” He was so emotional that he couldn’t finish.

Block, who was looking at his two best friends with shining eyes, knew the lore. “Go on, Pike. Ask her,” he said softly.

Pike swallowed, summoned up his courage, and then took the ring from its little box and held it up to Meklavar. “Mek,” his voice cracked. “Will you marry me?”

Mek sobbed harder than ever before, and then exclaimed, “Yes!” Pike slipped the ring on her finger with trembling hands, and she kissed him passionately on the lips. There was an explosion of joy in the room, a roar of cheering and clapping. When Pike and Meklavar broke apart at last, he stood and helped her to her feet, then lifted her face to his to kiss her again as the enchanted mistletoe hovered above them.

After many congratulations were made and hugs were exchanged, Pike suggested that they head out to the village square for music, dancing, and the fireworks display. “Not yet, Pike,” Meklavar said. “I haven’t had a chance to give you my gift.”

“I am sure that I’ll love whatever it is Mek, but I already have exactly what I want.” He put his arms around her.

“Oh really?” She looked up at him.

Pike smiled at Meklavar. “Yes, really.” He cupped her cheek. “All I want for Midwinter is you.” He kissed her, knowing that he had received the best Midwinter present of all.

@pikelavarforest @defendersofaurita @suemaryrakocy @rueitae @kallura-juniblade @nessajjewell @ilovepidgance @cyangarden @animejunki5

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chaoticoconut · 5 years

Text

BARBARA GORDON HEADCANONS THAT MAKE ME SWOON!!

(and so can you!! alfkvoekfndnej does anyone get that reference anyhoo)

I couldn't NOT post these idk I was showering and then I was hit with a mf tornado of hcs about my favorite gal and I figured I'd share :))))

Barbara and Tim are actually the most potty mouthed members of the batfam, excluding Kate. Jason is close, but only when he's upset (which probably seems trivial bc he's yk always upset but I hc him a pretty chill if not bitter and snarky guy). Tim cusses more when he's tired, but he consciously tries to bite his tongue. Barbara has no remorse and cusses very casually and openly, because she sees no point in abstaining. It releases endorphins guys. Duh. She uses those ridiculous "holy heck Batman!" lines as Batgirl unless she's genuinely thrown off her game. She limits her cussing a lot as Oracle bc she's not one to offend people, and you never know. It's most definitely a civilian thing for her, and anyone who knows Babs knows she's a fucking sailor.

Her favorite food of all time is pizza. Her dream house has a brick pizza oven. She has a food blog with every pizzeria in the greater Gotham area ranked from best to worst. Her favorite of all time is the Gotham Pizza Garden, which is located in Old Gotham near the police station. Technically it's the second best pizza in Gotham, second to Gargoyle Pie Company, which is renowned for being the epitome of Gotham-style pizza and is always busy. She has a lot of memories of GPG though, and loves both pies. GPG also has an incredible Chicago style pizza, which is her second favorite type of pizza. She does however believe Gotham style is superior and thinks less of Dick for disagreeing (@blanddcheadcanons tie-in heyo!!) Very few things make Babs as happy as gourmet pizza.

She grew up watching Teenage Mutant Turtles, Powerpuff Girls, and Star Trek. They all hold a very special place in her heart. There is totally a connection between her love of pizza and TMNT and turtles and mixed martial arts. She once got the boys to go as the turtles for Halloween, with her crushing it as April.

Speaking of turtles, she's had a pet turtle named after icon Nichelle Nichols since high school. Yes, she does call her Shelly. Yes it's cliche. No she does not care. She also has a calico cat named Cornflake that Dick gave her as a birthday present. She doesn't have pet dogs until she and Dick finally settle down. She never had them growing up because her father is allergic and her mother was a devout cat lady. She's not really sure why she never got any on her own, she's just more familiar with cats. After her mom passed away, she did get a bunch of bunnies whom she and JJ named after their favorite horror movie monsters and serial killers.

She loves slasher flicks. It's a family thing. JJ was creepy about it, Jim loves the thrill, Babs loves the mythos, and her mom was never really afraid of anything and found them funny.

She inherited her mother's love for baking. She left her her cookbook, which contains an amazing mixed berry pie recipe. Her pie baking abilities rival Alfred's. She even begins to branch out with her recipes and experiment with all sorts of fillings and even cake-pies (fanfic au tie-in heyo). Everybody loves a Barbara baked good. She knows everyone's faves and literally crushes holiday season. Dick is all about the og mixed berry pie, whereas Jay, who loves lemon everything (hc I saw awhile ago that I just love) prefers either a lemon meringue or a raspberry lemon. Tim is all about strawberry open face while Steph prefers cherry cheesecake or pecan pie. Cass and Bruce both love her cinnamon apple pie. Duke loves just about anything she bakes, but especially her more adventurous, contest winning pies like kiwi-blueberry-black cherry and other originals. Kate will die for Babs' cherry pie. Damian prefers blackberry or mixed like Dick. Alfred is a sweet potato pie kind of guy himself. There's a farmer's market in Blüdhaven her mother went with her to when she was a kid that Barbara still goes to get get all the fresh fruit.

Even better than Barbara or Alfred baking alone is them baking together. Roy Harper is also a pretty good baker. They all trade recipes with Martha Kent. M'gann brings wine to the manor and assembles them all for fun days of baking.

She's also totally the type of gal who made a shit ton of cupcakes when she ran for class prez and stayed I from Batgirl duties to finish them. Just saying.

She picks baking back up as Oracle but several hero emergencies lead her to burn perfectly good desserts.

She and Roy will always have puppy-love crushes on one another and be totally oblivious. They both did ballet as kids, love baking, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, shameless empty flirting, and tech. They're completely platonic and really great lifelong friends. They met at a Wayne gala as kids.

As if she wasn't already talented enough, she's completely ambidextrous. I'm jealous. Dick and Wally are left handed. Bruce is similarly ambi. Selina's a leftie. Maybe Alfred too.

She likes to enter contests and win for fun. She's a monster. Everything from baking to video games to weight lifting, she loves showing people up.

Dick, Babs, and Tim all snore atrociously loud. The batfam hates it. She's the quietest out of them all, but she's also a blanket hog. And a major cuddler.

Her favorite colors are grey and green. Purple does deserve an honorable mention however. Her apartment is a fair mix of green and grey decor and covered in books.

She was a total ballerina growing up, just like her mom wanted. That was until she discovered how kick ass martial arts were, and she got a little too jacked to continue with ballet as a formidable career option. Her next best option is becoming a cop at this point, but her father believes that not only would it be far too dangerous but a waste of her skills (like ballet cough cough). This upsets her so much she goes off and invents Batgirl, complete with a stole grappling gun from evidence.

In college she works as a barista and excels at it. Her dream is to open up a cafe/bakery/flower shop with Dinah some day. She wants to call her half Bean Me Up Scotty! (another hc I saw and fell in love with)

Babs is also a pretty good cook being that she became the family chef at a young age (Jim can barbeque and make spaghetti. That's literally it. Maybe some breakfast). Cooking lessons from Alfred certainly helped.

Her personality is so versatile. She can get along with pretty much anyone due to her wide range of interests and skills which is what makes Oracle so bad ass. She's also a Libra so she adapts fairly easily to any group without seeming fake.

She has a podcast where she rants about tech and feminism and politics and plays video games

She SO took Latin in high school and dominated competitions. She loves classical studies and is a dork for Greek and Roman mythology as well as linguistics. She has a pretty good grasp on all of the romance languages, and learns languages fairly quickly.

She always smells like mint and books. She has killer mint shampoo and conditioner, which is a Kean family thing (they just love the scent). She always smells refreshing.

She likes coffee but prefers tea always. She's like Ramona Flowers with tea

Her music taste is total 90s nostalgia (grunge, boybands, air pop, ska, hip hop) meets far too indie 4 u. Yes she's pretentious. Yes she loves chick rock and *NSYNC and Britney and Kurt Cobain and Biggie and deal with it. She also loves shit you've never even heard of. Was totally into the Gotham punk scene as a teen.

She collects vinyl and books and horror flicks ugh hipster queen

She loves spicy food and Dick cannot stand it. They both like sour candy though

If your Barbara Gordon didn't graduate high school at 16 she doesn't have rights

She was all of the Robin's first crush. Duh. Tim will always think she's the gold standard of women. He likes that she usually sticks up for him. He doesn't mind being seen as her male equivalent lmao

At some point Jay and Babs are roommates and it's literally the best I'll talk abt that later

Her type is guys with dark hair or blonde gals.

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