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hillnerd · 3 years

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WAKING UP- CHAPTER 5

Rating M A03 ff.net [ Previous Chapter] [start at the beginning]

For thanks yous, chapter warnings and ‘what happened last chapter’ scroll to the end of this chapter :)

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CHAPTER 5 - QUEEN OF CLUBS

Ginny didn’t have a very large room, and it felt even smaller as Hermione tried to ready herself to go to a club, of all places. She wasn’t the club ‘type.’ She couldn’t say for sure, as she’d never been to one, but what little familiarity she had made it sound awful. Loud noises, skimpily dressed, dancing as if she hadn’t a care in the world seemed… exhausting. And pointless. And dangerous! Fleur, Angelina and Ginny were trying on a myriad of dresses and asking for the group's approval. While the wireless played raucous tunes and the other girls giggled, Hermione spent her time packing and repacking her beaded bag.

The extension charm was still firmly in place. She hadn’t figured out a way to keep things more organized within it, though, so the canned goods she’d placed there kept falling over. She wasn’t going to forget food again, that she knew. She hadn’t located a new tent yet, but she needed to prioritize that soon. She had just finished repacking some of her clothes when she heard Ginny ask, “What are you doing?”

Hermione snapped the bag shut, not knowing how to explain her preparations in any way that made her seem of sound mind.

“Just wasn’t sure what to wear…” It wasn’t a complete lie. She wasn’t sure what fit her anymore.

“Well, you can never go wrong with a little black dress,” said Ginny pointing to a thin-strapped sundress Hermione hadn’t had reason to wear in well over a year.

She nodded and went to a corner, turning her front away from them as she changed into the dress. As she wiggled her jeans out from under the dress she noticed the other girls showed no similar discretion, happily throwing dresses off in the middle of the room.

Hermione gave a speculative look in the mirror, tugging a bit at the neckline of her sundress. It fit differently than before, bagging around her waist and chest in an unflattering way, and the straps would not stay in place.

“I can do alterations to dresses if anyone needs them,” said Fleur, grabbing a book from within her bag, discreetly catching Hermione’s eye. Arachne Salavarrieta’s Little Book of Sewing had a few good spells for altering clothing on the fly. All four of them looked over the text for just the right spells to take in, let out, and shorten dresses.

Ginny, still underage and unable to do magic, begged them “you’ve got to shorten my skirt once we’re there!”

“Why not have us do it now?” Angelina asked, propping up a magically enlarged hand mirror on the roll top desk.

“I have four older brothers downstairs,” Ginny said with a sour look.

“Why should that matter?”

“One of those gits will take the piss in front of Mum if I look remotely sexy. That is, if Mum doesn’t already notice all on her own. I don’t know! Either way, just help me with the hem at the club, please? I don’t want to be the only one there looking frumpy!”

“From-py?” Fleur asked.

“Unfashionable, old-fashioned, overly modest and drab,” Hermione provided, fairly certain the term had been liberally applied to herself over the years.

“You look far from from-py, but we will help with the skirt,” Fleur assured Ginny.

“And if any brother gives you shit at the club, we’ll hex them for good measure too,” Angelina added, bringing out a pair of curling tongs and prompting Ginny to sit in front of her.

Hermione pulled at her dress some more, not sure how much to alter it, and not sure if she wanted to bother. A pernicious guilt gnawed at her as she pulled the dress taut to her body. She should be doing something that mattered, not fretting over a dress. She should be in Australia. She hadn’t earned a rest, let alone a ‘fun time out.’ She’d taken no steps forward. She’d not found her parents’ location, she’d not earned money, she’d not even checked to see if her old childhood home was still standing.

“Hermione, is everything alright?” Fleur quietly asked, coming to stand beside her at the long mirror.

Hermione forced a smile onto her face.

“Oh you know me… I’m never sure what to do with fashion and all that. I’m more at ease in a library.”

Fleur gave her a searching look she’d seen before at Shell Cottage. It was a look that sought truth behind idle chit chat. It brought a sisterly sort of comfort that Hermione had not thought Fleur capable of a year ago. She had found the French woman to be condescending and too effortlessly beautiful to warrant any attempt at friendship. The war had given her an appreciation for Fleur, though. They were something akin to friends now.

“I just…” Hermione said in a low voice only Fleur could hear as the wireless yowled another rock anthem. “This feels so silly when there’s so much to do.”

“We’ve earned a bit of silly, do you not think so?”

“You all might have…”

“Hermione,” she said, putting a tentative hand around her shoulder. “You ‘ave done more than most anyone.”

“Since The Battle I’ve done nothing! Everyone is helping rebuild and all I’ve done is sleep! And my parents are still in Australia, and I’ve…I’ve done nothing to get them back.”

“Ron told us of your parents and the memories… Will you be needing any help?”

“No,” Hermione quickly insisted. “No. I just need to make a plan and get them back here. Once I have a plan then it will all be alright.”

“You are meaning to bring them back here in England… To the home you lived in before?”

Hermione nodded, and saw a look of concern wrinkle Fleur’s otherwise flawless brow.

“Hermione… Have you been to your home since the war ended?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m planning on checking on it soon.”

“This is why I asked. You can not do that alone. Many Muggleborn homes were cursed after the war. Some are no longer standing,” said Fleur, her voice ringing with intensity despite the lyric tone.

Hermione was aware that many a Muggleborn home had been razed to the ground, but refused to believe the same could have happened to her childhood home.

“Even the Burrow needed much curse breaking,” she continued. “We do not know each other well, but I am happy to help you with this.”

“Oh you don’t have to!” Hermione said with a shake of her head.

“Oh poppyrot!” Fleur said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Hermione let out a long breath, her gratitude forcing her to not correct Fleur to the word ‘poppycock.’ “It is my pleasure!”

“You two alright?” asked Ginny giving the two a sidelong look as Angelina continued to curl her hair.

“We are,” Fleur said, looking to Hermione who confirmed this with a head nod. “Just helping out with fashion. It is a ritual we women do. The girls gather and dress and help one another to look more beautiful, while the men do nothing.”

“Maybe they shower,” Angelina added with a laugh, “but probably not. They never put in half the effort we do!”

“You see? It is the way of it,” Fleur said, giving Hermione a small squeeze and a meaningful look. “I can help whenever you like.”

“Thank you, Fleur…” she said with equal import. When the other girls looked at her with curiosity she continued, “I don’t have any of my usual things like makeup or hair products.”

“I have a ton of stuff in my bag,” Angelina offered.

“As do I. We girls help one another,” Fleur said, grabbing a comb and some bottles of French products Hermione didn’t recognize. She continued with the faintest whisper, “You can send a message or Patronus to me when you are ready to enter your old home.”

Words failing her, Hermione put a hand on Fleur’s and gave it a small squeeze. Fleur said nothing, but the warm smile she sent in the mirror reassured her that the French woman completely understood.

After an hour of sewing alterations, primping, squealing, and many changes of clothes by each of the ladies, they decided they were almost ready enough to leave.

“Oh! Jewelry! I forgot about that,” Ginny moaned, looking through her small box of earrings.

Angelina and Fleur were eager to help her, but Hermione wasn’t sure she could take another debate about fashion. She was grateful for the silly hour she’d gotten to spend with them, though. Despite her hair still being a bit wild and curly, Hermione had to admit she liked how she looked in the mirror. The black sundress fit her perfectly now. She almost looked like she had a figure again. Between the dress and the makeup, and a bit of product from Angelina to keep her hair from frizzing, she looked almost pretty. She felt a touch of excitement flurry in her stomach at the thought of looking nice in front of Ron. It almost made her forget how nervous she was to be out of the safety of the Burrow. She gripped her beaded bag close to her side.

“I’m going to wait with the boys, if that’s alright.”

The girls waved her off as they held different earrings beside Ginny’s face.

As Hermione stepped into the hallways she immediately ran into a thin, though sturdy, body and let out a small exclamation of alarm. She quickly muffled her sound when she saw it was only Harry.

“Are you all ready to go then?” he asked, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Ginny behind the closing door.

“We’re almost all ready,” she said with a fond smile. “You know girls, it takes them forever.”

“You’re a girl too, according to Ron at least,” said Harry, giving her a wry grin. Harry was looking rather sharp in Muggle clothes that actually fit, and his hair was looking mysteriously untidy.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

“What?” he asked, putting a hand to the back of his hair and patting at it. “It doesn’t look bad, does it?”

“No,” she laughed, seeing the panic in his eyes. “Just not as wild as usual.”

“Yeah, well it took like four spells and I think they’re already wearing off.”

She studied his hair and could see one by one little hairs slowly moving into disarray, almost like someone had rubbed an invisible balloon against it.

“You’re trying to look extra nice for Ginny,” she teased. He frowned, but a blush began to form around his jaw. “Yeah, well, we’ve never gotten to properly go someplace together, have we? You did the same for Ron, right?”

He had her there.

“Speaking of, where is he?”

“Downstairs, I think,” he said, hand going to his hair again. “Is it looking bad again?”

“It’s looking more like it usually does, if that’s what you mean.” His face scrunched in disapproval. “Really, it looks fine. Your hair fits you best when you do nothing to it. You look perfectly nice.”

“You too,” he said with a glance at her, before heading towards the bathroom. “Ok, I’m going to try to spell this one more time.”

She knew it was a lost cause, but didn’t have the heart to tell him as he eagerly tried to preen.

As she reached the bottom steps of the stairs, she could hear the low rumble of men’s voices.

“They’re taking ages,” Charlie sighed. “I don’t see why it takes them so long.”

“Women wear more?” said George.

“Harry’s hair has taken almost as long,” Lee said with a snort.

Hermione looked around the corner and saw the men all sprawled around the room, shoes up on tables and couch arms in a way they’d never dare if Mrs Weasley were in the room.

While everyone lightheartedly bantered with one another, in the corner sat Ron. His brow was creased as he silently played chess with Lee. He looked haggard, and for the eleventh time that evening, Hermione wished they weren’t going out. She’d much rather spend the evening wrapped in Ron’s arms, as she had that afternoon.

Her nerves had frayed at the thought of sleeping beside him, worried he would catch her in a nightmare. Silencing spell in place, she had feigned grumpy tiredness when he asked her questions. There had been no need to worry, though. Cuddled up to him she fell asleep as surely as one did on sleeping draughts, and somehow her nightmares were kept entirely at bay. It was the best sleep she’d had in months. The only thing that could have improved it was waking up beside Ron. He’d been gone when she’d woken, with no one knowing where he was. He’d come back from the village looking worn out giving excuses of ‘getting supplies’ which didn’t hold up to real scrutiny, when she thought of the timeline he gave. Ron Weasley was up to something, she just didn’t know what.

As if her thoughts drew him to her, Ron’s eyes rose and met hers.

The furrow in his brow smoothed, his scowling expression softened, and a boyish smile of his tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Who’s winning?” she asked, approaching the chess board.

“Ron was, but I think my luck’s about to change,” said Lee, a few of the men joining him in laughter and elbowing Ron, seeing his rather besotted look. Usually he’d turn beet red and curse at them, but his face remained mostly impassive as he met her eyes and smiled. The only sign of his discomfort was his ears going a tiny bit flush.

“Check mate,” said Ron, moving his bishop across the board, and rising from his seat.

“No it’s not, is it?” Lee asked, looking at the board. “Damn!”

Ron gave the lot a two fingered salute and led her from the living room to the kitchen, where his mother was doing some tidying and listening to the radio.

“I wasn’t sure about the dress,” she mumbled. Ron’s eyes traveled down her and she suppressed the urge to readjust her neckline, though she wasn’t sure in what direction.

“Well you look amazing in it,” he said, looking her in the eye and making her stomach do a tsukahara flip.

“Thank you,” she managed. A pleasurable rush of nerves ran up her spine. Despite looking very tired, he looked handsome. He was wearing an untucked dress shirt she’d not seen before, with the sleeves rolled up his arms in a way that made the nerves in her spine turn to jolts. Given the darker color scheme of it, she assumed it was a hand-me-down from Bill. She quickly realized all of him was looking rather polished, with the exception of his beat up boots. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. He was so sensitive about clothes, and the last thing she wanted was to cause additional stress on him, but she also knew he was a bit insecure and it might be nice to compliment his appearance.

“So how long until the rest of the girls are ready?” he asked.

Well there went that opportunity.

“Soon, I think. They just had to pick out earrings for Ginny,” she said looking up into face. His eyes looked so weary. “Are you doing well?”

“Course,” he grunted, immediately turning from her. “Mum, do you need help with that?”

Mrs Weasley turned from the dishes and assured him she didn’t. Despite the assurance, he started putting dishes in the cabinets. He didn’t spare her another look, not when the rest of the girls came down the stairs some ten minutes later, and not when they gathered on the edge of the property.

“Before we go,” George announced, beginning to hand each of them a playing card, “here is a Muggle I.D. for each of you.”

“Why do we need an I.D?” Ginny asked, inspecting the playing card in the waning light of the sunset.

“Because they check to see if you’re old enough to drink at clubs and such and can’t just put up an age line,” answered Bill.

“Why didn’t you transfigure these already?” asked Hermione, looking at her playing card, the Queen of Clubs.

“I’d have to know what Muggle I.D.s look like to do that. This just has a spell to register as an I.D. to Muggles. Pretty clever, if I do say so,” George said, smiling to them all as he finished handing out the cards. “Getting the dates right was tricky. Just make sure you say your birthday was in 79 or earlier. The card will match up with whatever date you say.”

“Where are we apparating to, George?” asked Angelina.

“My hotel room’ll do,” he answered.

Hermione felt Ron unexpectedly stiffen beside her.

“Everyone but Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Fleur knows where to go. So you all can pair up and side-along there. Here, Gin, come with me,” said George, waving Ginny over.

Ron made as if to grab Ginny back, but George had quickly disappeared with her. One by one they all disapparated, leaving her and a distracted Ron staring at the space George had just occupied.

Ron licked his dry lips and scrunched his brow in determination. “Right… Okay then, I guess we better go.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” she said, gently putting her hand in his. “We could just stay in, you and me.”

His shoulders slumped. “Merlin, I wish I could take you up on that.”

“Why don’t you?” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’ve been dreading going out.”

“You too?” “I packed and repacked my bag, just in case,” she said, giving the beaded bag a small shake that made its contents give a crash. “Damn. That’s probably the books again. I really need to find a way to make things stay in place!”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he said with a fond look on his face. “But we should go. It’ll be good to get out, plus with G— nevermind.”

“Plus what?”

“Look, I really want to tell you, but I’m just not up for it all right now.” Her face must have given away how frustrating she found that. “I will, I swear I will! Just not tonight. Let’s just— let’s just pretend we’re okay and go out and try to enjoy ourselves.”

It went against every instinct in her body to agree to wait to know something, but she nodded her acquiescence. His large hand moved to her back and the tight feeling of being compressed overtook her as he Apparated them to George’s hotel room.

In moments they reached their destination and the feeling of her breath being stolen didn’t stop, for Ron’s fingers grazed her side as he took a pace back from her.

When they arrived they received a good amount of teasing for taking their time to arrive, heavily implying the two had been snogging. Neither teen corrected them. As everyone made small talk, Ron was completely silent and looked about the room with seeming purpose. He had shown immense concern about George right before they left, had that intense conversation with him earlier, and she had to admit George smelt like a bar when he arrived and looked like he might have been sleeping on the floor of one. She had no idea what Ron was looking for, except perhaps empty bottles. The room was sparse, and only a tray of food, and a small bag in the corner showing any signs someone had been living there.

No one seemed to notice his actions except George who fixed him with a glare when no one was looking. Ron looked far from sheepish, and instead stood tall and locked eyes with his brother.

“Let’s get going. It’s just a few streets over,” George announced to the room, looking away from Ron.

Nerves shook Hermione as they travelled down the grimy London street. It did not look much different from Tottenham Court Road. The last time she had been near this part of London they’d ducked into a grotty cafe and been cornered by a pair of Death Eaters.

At least then it had been a less obtrusive group, with only her, Ron and Harry. Now they were a large boisterous group with so many redheads they stood out like a flock of goldfinches. Most of them were loudly talking or laughing, and many a passerby smirked at the boisterous group. If someone wanted to target them, they’d be all too easy to spot. She gripped her beaded bag so harshly one of her nails chipped.

Thankfully George was quite correct about the distance being short. In minutes they arrived at a large dark building with music dimly pulsing through its walls and a line to get in.

A large barrel-chested man with the thickest neck Hermione had ever seen stood at the door. The eldest Weasleys along with Lee and Angelina were let through with barely a glance at their playing cards, but as soon as he spotted the younger members of the group the bouncer began to look like an agitated bulldog.

He eyed Ron and Hermione’s cards closely, but gave a much more scrutinizing look towards Ginny and Harry as they handed their playing cards to him. He held a small flashlight to the Jack of Spades and Queen of Spades, and even ran a fingernail along the edge.

“What’s your birthday?”

“1979!” Harry offered, before wincing at his volume. Ron let out a chuckle, while Ginny rolled her eyes. The man’s glare intensified. “Er… July 31st 1979, that is.”

“Hmm… And you?” growled the Bouncer, sourly looking to Ginny.

“Tonight’s my birthday, actually!” she said with a winning smile. Hermione nearly protested, but Ron gave a small shake of his head.

“Ah, happy birthday!” said the man nodding at the card before handing it back to her, looking much less ornery. “Let Teresa know about it, and they’ll do ya something special.”

“Your birthday, huh?” Harry asked Ginny as soon as they were through the door.

“Much easier to have a good time and get some free drinks that way, isn’t it?” she said, giving a conspiratorial grin he shared.

“But it’s not your birthday!” Hermione protested, irritation prickling down her neck.

“I’m not eighteen either,” Ginny breezily pointed out.

“Well you’re lucky the card was able to adapt to that when you hadn’t said an actual date,” Hermione persisted. She clutched her beaded bag closer to her chest. “We don’t want to stand out.”

“Why not? It’s a Muggle club. It should be fun.”

“Well, it might be a Muggle club, but that doesn’t mean it’s completely safe.”

“You worry too much,” she said in an infuriatingly calm and understanding voice.

“No! We have to make sure we stay low profile and don’t say anything wrong, because all it takes is one wrong word and then everything falls apart!”

Harry looked to the ground, his eyebrows knitting together. He had to be thinking of the Taboo and the Snatchers as well.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Hermione. We’ll be okay,” said Ginny with a smile, looking around to spot the rest of their group, taking Harry by the hand towards a corner table. “Ah there they are!”

Hermione had never felt more like shaking her friend. Didn’t she understand how dire things were? They’d met Death Eaters at a Muggle cafe in London last August, and Fenrir and those Snatchers in the woods. All it took was one small mistake and then hell would rain down on them; they could end up beaten or cursed or stabbed in the chest. “Hermione…” she heard Ron’s voice quiet and low in her ear. “There isn’t a Taboo anymore…”

“You don’t know that!” she almost shouted at him, painfully gripping her beaded bag.

One of his large hands gently started unwinding her fingers from the bag, before taking it from her and putting it in his jacket pocket. He started massaging her fingers. Under the pink and orange lights she could just make out the imprint the bag had left on her hands.

“I can feel the Taboo’s broken, and I bet you can too if you concentrate on it,” he said, continuing to work her hands until they became limp in his. “But if you want to leave and go back to the Burrow, we can right now.”

His quiet earnest words brought her eyes up to his. He saw right through her. He didn’t give her empty platitudes. He gave her a common sense answer to why things would be different, and an out if she was uncomfortable. She felt the overwhelming need to kiss him, and despite the crowd she decided to indulge herself. She stood on her tiptoes, and he took her lead leaning down to brush his lips against hers, hands still holding hers. How had they had so many years together without kissing?

For years she’d had to sit near him, with careful scrutinization over every action and inch between them. Was sitting too close to her friend? Would her leg pressing to his be too much? Would he notice how her eyes were fixated on his mouth a good three minutes as he grinned and told her about the mad thing he’d seen earlier that day? Did his hand around her shoulder linger longer than a friend’s hand would? When he’d tiredly leaned his head into her, had it meant something to him?

Now she could kiss him whenever she liked, and melt into his strong form, and let her hands be caressed, and get the anticipation of more ring through her body, and know it might be fulfilled later. The only thing she struggled to hold back was blurting out how very much she loved everything about him.

“Alright?” he asked as their lips parted.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep herself from saying ‘I love you and actually yes I’d like to go home, but only because I want to snog you until both of us can barely breathe.’

“Ready to have ‘a bit of fun?’”

“I think I can manage,” she said with a smile. As long as he was by her side something akin to enjoyment of the evening could happen.

They went to a back table that didn’t nearly have enough seating for them all. This didn’t seem to matter as half of them strategically placed their jackets and purses so strangers would know it was occupied, while the others went to the bar to get drinks for everyone. Their table butted nearly up to the bar, and Ron perched on one of its stools.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hermione asked, looking at a menu.

He shook his head. “Someone needs to stay sober. Might as well be me.” He took the menu from her and eagerly pointed to it. “But I could do with these fried cheese things!”

She got in line, ready to order and pay when George stepped in. “Put your cash away. You’re not buying a thing, tonight! We’re here to celebrate you three, after all!”

Grateful not to have to spend the meager amount of cash she had, she put in her order for Ron’s food, and her wine. She’d never drunk much in her life, but she experienced the occasional wine with her parents.

She had worried the evening would be tedious, but seeing everyone looking giddy, toasting one another, and even dancing made her rethink the evening.

Ron had kept a close eye on George, but his brother was looking at ease and jubilant surrounded by family and friends. Hermione enjoyed the warming tang of red wine as they chatted away and seemed more relaxed than they’d been in years. The wine soothed her nerves as well.

“Was your skirt that short when we left?” George asked Ginny after she did a twirl to the music that accidentally flashed a cheek of her knickers.

“Yes it was,” she coolly answered. “And even if it wasn’t, there’s nothing you’re going to do about it, is there?”

Harry, already looking sloshed, looked down at Ginny’s legs, his mouth slightly open.

Ron gave a chuckle before flicking his friend’s ear.

“Righ’, sorry,” Harry said with a nod. Despite all the spells he’d done on his hair, it had reverted to its normal disheveled state.

“Let’s dance!” Ginny said, grabbing Harry’s hand. If it weren’t for the few rounds of shots, Hermione didn’t think they’d be able to get him on to the dance floor, but in his current state he happily followed his girlfriend to the bright lights and thumping music. This seemed an adorable prospect until they actually saw him dance.

“Oh shit… Someone needs to hit him with a stunner or something,” Ron laughed, as Hermione leaned back into him.

Harry had no sense of rhythm at all, and his stiff-armed movements made many people wince. Ginny didn’t seem to care, and was happily dancing beside him. Her effervescence seemed to drown out Harry’s sad attempts at movement.

Ron guffawed, and shook his head in amusement. Seated on a bar stool, he was only a half a foot taller than Hermione, which made for much more convenient kisses with no tiptoes needed. She had finished her second glass of wine and had a hot pleasant sensation buzzing through her. She put her head back and closed her eyes, feeling the vibration of his deep laugh and the music thrumming.

“Hmm… Y’should dance with me,” she murmured, though she made no move towards the dance floor. Instead she rubbed her hands down his legs that were on either side of her. The lights on the dancefloor shifted to green for a moment, and the cozy peace felt strangled. She glanced up to Ron, and thought of the one thing that really made her feel nothing but warmth. “You should snog me.”

He chuckled a bit, and she felt the back of his fingers graze her cheek.

“Dance or snog— Whichever you want,” he replied in her ear. “Though it seems you’re going a bit legless for dancing.”

“I am not!” she protested, pushing herself off of him and nearly stumbling. She stood very tall and made firm eye contact. “I am far from inebriated and do not like the implication that I am inebredated!”

“You mean inebriated?”

“That’s what I just said!” she said, grabbing his hand. “C’mon, let’s dance!”

He gave a shake of his head, but followed her onto the dance floor, where most of their group were dancing. Despite the yellow and orange lights, they were a vibrant group that stood out. Hermione couldn’t think why she’d been worried about it, though! And Ron was actually a very good dancer. She’d discovered this at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, and was happy nothing had changed. He had a grand sense of rhythm and the way he held her close and moved about with her made her feel like one of those ladies from an old musical. Roger Gingers? No, that wasn’t it…

“You make me feel like a lady!” she shouted over the music. “I mean, a lady from a musical that dances and such! Y’know? Like with Astaire and all those old ones in the movies?”

Ron gave a nod, and she nodded along happy he knew the reference. Yes! He and she were meant for one another. He knew what she meant when she said things. Oh no, that couldn’t be right. Fred Astaire was a Muggle! There was no way he knew that reference!

“Wait! You don’t know who Astaire is!”

“Nope,” he replied, an amused grin making his dimple appear.

“Then why did you nod along?”

“You’re supposed to smile and nod at drunk people and irate girlfriends— and you’re the best of both!”

She laughed as he spun her around. She could do this forever! Just spin and spin, his hands on her, the bright lights bringing out odd colors in his hair, his warm smile, the invigorating feeling of just being alive...

“You dance as well as you snog!” she yelled, right as the song stopped, making many on the dance floor snigger, but she didn’t care. It was true. And he was hers, not anyone else's, and she got to snog him whenever she wanted. “Let’s get another drink!”

She bounded to the bar, and added another wine to the tab George had started.

“I think you might’ve had enough,” said Ron, sidling up beside her.

“Then you drink it!” she said, holding up the wine before taking a sip. He gently took the wine glass from her, and put it on the bar.

“Ever since I drank that poisoned mead, I’m not much for drinks from people I don’t know.”

“I just drank from it, though, so you know it’s safe,” she said, holding her hair up and away from her too hot neck.

“And I need to be sober so someone can get us all home at the end of the evening.”

That was a very good point. “You should snog me in the club’s bathroom,” she countered.

“That is very very tempting,” he said leaning in and giving her a peck on the nose. “When you aren’t sloshing about I might take you up on that.”

“M’not!” she said, grabbing her wine glass.

“Another round?” George asked, holding out a tray of shots. “For the trio! And the birthday girl!”

“Oh yes, let’s drink to my birthday!” Ginny crowed, grabbing what was at least her shot glass. There was a quick clearing of a throat from behind her from Bill. “Oh come oooon! Can’t I have some fun?”

“You can have plenty of fun. Just might want to be able to remember it tomorrow.”

“Don’t be mummish!” she replied, downing her drink.

Harry tittered at this, and she put a hand over his shot glass before he could get it to his lips. “You might want to hold back.”

“Mummish,” Harry laughed, with a shake of his shaggy head.

“How much has he had?” Charlie asked.

“A couple of shots and a beer,” said Lee with a shake of his head. “Complete and utter lightweight.”

“I want another shot,” Harry protested.

“Sorry, sloppy, leave this to the professionals,” George said, downing it before Harry could stop him. Hermione caught a grim look pass between Ron and Bill, but dismissed it as a good song came on and the other girls dragged them all onto the dance floor.

The party continued until Ron insisted they take a water break. Hermione slide into the booth next to him, wobbling only slightly, yet she gladly snuggled into him.

There was a gauzy blur to everything, with only the center of her vision having much clarity. It was nice. Her blurred cameo-vision settled on Ron. He was very handsome. And tall!

She told him so.

“Thanks,” he said, not seeming to take her seriously.

“I mean it, though! You’re almost pretty,” she said with a firm nod. “I’ve always thought so. You have the bluest eyes… They’re so… Blue! And I love your hands. They feel nice too.”

“Uh huh…” he said with a smile. “I think we best get you home soon… Here, have some water.”

“I don’t want water, I want more wine,” she said, taking the water and drinking it. “But I do mean it. You’re very good looking. And you have a cute bum! I haven’t told you that, but I should. I should tell you these things! I mean to, but I wait too long, and then I can’t tell you. Like with your clothes tonight! You look extra dishy and I can’t tell you because I don’t want you to think I’m not nice about clothes to you, ya know?”

“Well in that case, thank you?” he said, pouring her some more water that she angrily sipped at.

He’d taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up again at one point. She trailed a finger along a brain-scar on his forearm. She liked that. There was something about it that made her squirm in a good way.

“I like your arms… But to my point!!” she said, sitting up straight and poking him in the chest. “There’so much I can’t tell you! I’m the best secret keeper in the world. It’s like… It’s like my words are Fidelius charmed! And I don’t know how to tell you the secret! I want to, of course, but if I did and you didn’t say you love me back then I’d be so upset, and so I don’t say anything!”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his chest.

“You make it hard to not say things when you’re so pretty and good. You’re so good, Ron Weasley. I want to… I want to bottle you up and marry you and be the only one to touch your bum.”

His chuckle pleasantly hummed through her. He braced her against him a bit then kissed her forehead.

“I want that too,” he said, almost so quietly it couldn’t be heard over the music. She felt him stir beneath her head and let out a huff. “What?”

She cracked open an eye to see Harry gormlessly staring at them.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die. You’re like… the most important people in my life and I love you both so much,” said Harry, pointing to somewhere a foot or so to the left of them.

“No more alcohol for you, Harry,” said Ron, making Hermione sit up.

“I mean it!” Harry belligerently stated.

“We love you too, Harry,” said Hermione, putting a hand on him. “You’re like a brother to me! If I had brothers. I don’t. But if I did, you’d be my little brother.”

“You’re like an older sister that I love like a sister. And we’re both not dead,” Harry said with a nod.

“Merlin’s balls. We’ve got to get out of here,” Ron muttered, grabbing a glass of water and thrusting it into Harry’s hand. “Chug that and try not to be such a melancholy arsewipe, yeah?”

“I can’t help it. I had a bad childhood until I met you and Hagrid…” Harry said, looking so sad Hermione wanted to cry.

“You did! Ron, he DID have a bad childhood!”

“Yep, I’m aware,” said Ron with a sigh getting up. “Harry, where’d you put your glasses and jacket?”

He gave a sad shrug. “I don’t have a family. I don’t even have glasses now.”

Hermione nodded. “He can’t SEE, Ron.”

“I’m legally blind.”

“He’s blind, Ron!”

“Oh my GOD! I’m going to find the glasses!” Ron exploded, a hand going to his hair. “I’m getting bloody tired of dealing with drunks, you know that?”

“But he’s blind, Ron.”

With a wild gesture of frustration he started looking around the various points in the bar Harry had been to. Harry murmured about a lot of sad things, and Hermione told him about Ron’s bum which made him snigger. She leaned her head against the back of the booth, closing her eyes for just a moment.

She heard Charlie, Bill and Fleur bowed out for the evening, citing business they had to do the next day. Bill pulled Ron aside for a moment. She could just make out the low voiced words of ‘George,’ ‘rest’ and ‘bail’ beside her. She cracked open an eye and saw them both glancing at George, who was still bouncing on the dance floor with Lee and Angelina. Hermione listened to hear more, but the thrum of music drowned them out.

Hermione woke up an indeterminate amount of time later lying in their booth, head curled up on a conjured pillow and Ron’s large jacket draped over her.

She blearily rose and blinked to see Harry finish a shot beside her.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be drinking anymore,” she managed to rasp even though her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth. She smacked her lips and looked for some water. The nearest pitcher seemed miles away even though it was a mere few feet.

“Y’were sleeping in the booth and there’s was noone to stop me,” said Harry with a triumphant smile that morphed into an unpleasant low belch.

“How long have I been asleep?” Her head was aching. She should have drunk more water.

“Mmm… An hour or so?”

“Where’s Ron?”

“He tucked you in,” Harry answered. She warmed at the thought of giant Ron hunching over to tenderly make her comfortable.

Harry put his chin on his hand and stared at her. “He fancies you.”

“Well I quite fancy him as well.”

“You fancy him,” he said with a sloppy dismissive hand, “but not like he does you. He’s all…” A series of soft pats rained down on her head. “And you’re all…” He pointed a finger at her face, nearly poking her in the eye. “Ya know?”

“Oh well that makes sense,” she humored him. “Where are your glasses? Didn’t Ron go to fetch them ages ago?”

“Search me…” he said, putting his head on the table before slurring. “I need a nap…”

Ginny, Lee and Angelina came panting off the dancefloor.

“Where’s George?” asked Angelina, gulping down some water and making a loud noise of satisfaction when she’d finished.

“Wasn’t he with you?”

No one knew where George or Ron were. They were about to start searching when there was the sound of a mic turning on, and the DJ announced, “and now one of our guests wants to make an announcement.”

There was a horrid feedback noise and a scuffle, but then a familiar voice began to ring through the crowd.

“Hello everyone!” said George into the mic.

“Oh God, who let him have a microphone?” said Angelina, shaking her head.

“I’m George and I’m here to celebrate my little sister’s birthday! So everyone, say cheers to her!”

Many of the crowd raised their glasses and Ginny was happy to wave to them and give a small bow. Hermione spotted that she was wearing Harry’s glasses on top of her head. She turned to point this out to Harry but he was letting out a series of small snores.

“Also we’re here to celebrate my brother Ronnie, and his two best friends. I can’t tell you what they did, but they are being honored for their services and it’s pretty impressive shit, so cheers to them!” The crowd cheered again. “That’s right. He’s very impressive. Didn’t think he would be, but here we are! Didn’t think he’d make it out of a war alive, but he did. Not a fucking scratch on him, ‘cept some missing fingernails.”

Hermione looked for Ron, and found him standing to the side of the DJ booth. He looked like he was saying something, and George’s face went dark and surly. “No, I don’t feel like going home.”

“Get off the mic!” someone from the crowd hollered, and few people let out a resounding ‘woo’ in agreement.

“Yes, thank you for your support!” George said with a wave. “What was I talking about? Oh yes! The war! My other brothers all made it ok, but I lost an ear, and then my twin brother got fucking killed by a bloody wall. How stupid a way is that to go?”

The DJ tried to get George to hand over the mic, but he was belligerently holding it low and crowding the DJ out. Ron looked like he was saying something. He put a hand on George’s shoulder that was violently shrugged off, prompting Angelina and Lee to run over to intervene.

Hermione didn’t want to crowd them and was fairly certain she couldn’t get there fast enough to help anyways. Ginny had a hand to her mouth.

“None of you know how much we sacrificed to keep you all safe, you know that? On the run all the time, nearly dying every day, and you lot just went about your lives having no fucking clue. People died. My brother is DEAD! And you’re all having a bloody good time, but he’s dead and everything is fucking ruined and—”

The thick-necked bouncer moved in and started pointing a beefy hand in George’s face.

“George, don’t!” came Ron’s holler, just barely picked up by the mic.

Hermione heard a chorus of yells beside her as, in front of the entire Muggle club, George whipped out his wand and brandished it at the bouncer.

“Take another step and I’ll drop you,” he snarled.

Hermione gave a yell of her own as Ron put up his hands and stood in front of George’s sparking wand.

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

Chapter 5 Author’s Note-

Chapter 6 is already written and in the editing process.

I actually split Chapter 5 into two parts as it was epically long. So next chapter will be from Hermione's POV

oh, and it will have some smut

and angst

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

Giant thank you to:

@abradystrix and @divagonzo for betaing and being so supportive and wonderful.

CHAPTER WARNINGS:

cursing, depresssed/anxious thinking, talk about eating & weight gain/loss, evidence of PTSD, drinking and drunkeness, threats

Previously, in 'Waking Up'

Hermione is on edge about her parents and is having trouble with anxiety in general- also worried about Ron not saying 'I love you' yet

Ron was exhausted from tending to George the night before- he's running on fumes- and is devastated that Hermione doesn't seem to care for Harry joining the Aurors- He fills out paperwork and gets sick with anxiety

Needs a quill and sees Hermione needs money for Australia

Goes to the village to get a job- gets lost in dark memories

Comes home to everyone giving cheers to him and the trio for Order of Merlins and Auror offers

They're all gonna go out to celebrate

#fanfiction #hermione granger #ron weasley #romione #harry potter #waking up #My writing #post hogwarts #hp fanfic

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hopeshoodie · 4 years

Text

Part 7 of my Pros and Cons of dating the different islanders (yes I’m finally coming back to this :P)

Gary

Cons

He doesn’t have a whole lot of thoughts about things that he’s not actively excited or annoyed by, and he doesn’t really feign interest. If MC buys a new top, or is invested in a new show, or anything that Gary doesn’t really care about, he’ll really disinterestedly say “that’s cool babe,” and make her feel like it’s unimportant. He’s not patronizing/embarrassing her on purpose, he just doesn’t have a lot of tact. You would have to really talk to him and work with him to get him out of this habit, because he doesn’t see how it’s hurtful or care that much to change.

He gets really defensive. If you call him out on his behavior or point out how he’s really stubborn, he’ll argue with you without really considering if his behavior is bad. Arguments with Gary suck because it gets to a point where he’s not hearing you and will just say “whatever” and refuse to engage. The best way to change Gary’s behavior is some pavlovian shit- you need to offer positive reinforcement without him really noticing. When he communicates really well, shower him with affection. When he picks up after himself, tell him how much you appreciate it.

He’s very willing to walk away from things that challenge him instead of trying to grow as a person. We saw that with him and Lottie- whenever she or MC offered valid criticism of his behavior he would just walk away. That applies to most areas of his life- if he tries a new hobby and isn’t good at it immediately he’ll drop it. He doesn’t really like trying new things or going to new places, and if something challenges his worldview he’s more likely to ignore it than engage.

I’ve said this already but he buys MC heart shaped jewelry and pandora charm bracelets...

Gary’s a lad. While he doesn’t intend to hurt anyone’s feelings, he never really engaged with social justice issues and he hasn’t done the work needed to be anti-racist. He’ll laugh along to sexist, racist, homophobic, and ableist jokes without really thinking about the implication. He’s loath to call anyone out. If MC points out ‘hey that thing you/your friend said is hurtful,” he’ll get defensive and say “why are you ruining a good time? It was just a joke” If MC sits down and explains to him how the things he says are actively hurting her, he’ll internalize that and not do it. But he’s really hesitant to say the same to other people- he doesn’t want to ‘ruin the mood’ and get made fun of for being ‘PC’.

Gary’s super dense. He doesn’t really pick up hints very well, so MC needs to explicitly tell him “I need you to compliment this dress” or “we haven’t gone on a proper date in awhile and I’m feeling undesired, can we go out for dinner tomorrow?” I firmly believe that the reason Gary tolerated all of Lottie’s passive aggressiveness was because he didn’t pick up on it, so MC needs to be direct.

He doesn’t appreciate all the effort it takes to get all dolled up, even though he loves it when MC goes all out. I know he SAYS he doesn’t like high maintenance women, but in canon when given the choice between Hannah (seemingly low maintenance) and Marisol (very outgoing and done up), he chooses the higher-maintenance option. Every woman he dated on the show was a glam kind of girl- MC, Lottie, Marisol. So while he loves when MC has a full face and outfit done, he complains about how long it takes her and how she always sneaks away for touch ups during the night. He’s one of those dudes who is like “wow you’re so pretty without makeup” but you’re literally wearing foundation, contour, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush- he thinks the difference between makeup and not wearing any makeup is red lipstick. This is super annoying because MC puts a lot of effort into her look only for him to downplay that effort but still enjoy the results.

Building off of the above, Gary severely underestimates how much effort it takes to do “domestic work” like cooking, cleaning, and administrating for the household (I imagine pre-MC he forgets to do the basics like renew licenses, register to vote, schedule appointments, etc). So if MC points out how she spent the whole day cleaning, he’ll be like “that seems a bit much? You just cleaned the kitchen?” and doesn’t really get it until MC breaks down “I swept and washed the floor, I disinfected the dishwasher, I ran cleaners through the sink link, I cleaned out and organized the fridge, I dusted and sanitized the chandelier, I organized the spice drawer, I wiped out the cabinets…” He’s not really motivated to learn how to clean or do laundry or cook.

He doesn’t communicate. This is canon- he doesn’t tell Lottie where his head is at in the game, he strings Lottie and Hannah along, and he doesn’t reassure MC when other girls are clearly cracking on with him. So most of the problems in a relationship with Gary come from MC not knowing what he wants and him never initiating emotionally vulnerable conversations.

He’s not going to do well if MC needs to travel a lot for work, and he’s not going to move to live with her. Even after his nan dies, I don’t see him leaving Chatham. So if moving to a new place is important to you, this is a dealbreaker.

Pros

If something goes really wrong, he’ll never do the same thing twice. This applies to physical mistakes as well as emotional- if he forgets to wear eye protection and gets sawdust in his eyes, he’ll be religious about wearing glasses from them on. If he forgets a birthday or anniversary and makes MC cry, he will be SO diligent from then on about remembering dates. On that thought, he HATES seeing MC cry. He will move heavens and earth to stop whatever’s upsetting her or fix it.

Hugs and cuddling from Gary? So comforting. He just has that vibe, like he’s a really good cuddler. Not to mention that he’s really good at the nasty in canon, so it would stand to reason………

All of that internalized masculinity has an upside- he wants to take care of his family. He’s on top of all the ‘masculine’ caretaking stuff like buying a home, maintaining the landscaping, fixing the tires on the vehicles, shoveling, fixing stuff up around the house, managing the cable/internet/tech. Which is nice because I hate doing those things, but also I’m absolutely teaching him how to do laundry and pick up after himself.

Gary is SO calm in emergency situations. I have this headcanon for Rahim too, but the more panicked those around them get, the calmer they are. Especially in situations where they’ve prepared/considered before like tornadoes or floods. They’re not the kind of guys who take the lead normally, but in these super dire situations they find it in them to take over and calm everyone else down. I can see him having a lowkey stockpile of food, an emergency first aid kit, and a go-bag.

I know people don’t like this headcanon, but too bad. Gary is catholic. That’s the law. Sorry I don’t make the rules. That’s not so much of a pro for me, an atheist nihilist lesbian, but I can recognize a religious man has a certain amount of charm. He has a close knit community, is super consistent about attending services, and has a certain level of taking morals really seriously. He definitely donates a fair bit to charity and is always the one saying “love thy neighbor” when people are being shitty.

Gary’s spontaneous, but in a controlled way. He very much likes his routine and respects MC’s need for consistency. But periodically he’ll just be like “we have nothing planned for today- want to go rent a paddleboat?” or he’ll pick up flowers “just because”. If MC and he are going on a vacation, he much prefers to only plan 1 or 2 things to do a day and then once they’re in the place see interesting things and suggest ‘let’s do that’. He’ll do really thoughtful stuff like text MC if she has anything planned for dinner then randomly bring her favorite restaurant food home. Thursday nights are date nights!! Doing formal ‘dress up nice and go to a proper dinner date without the kids and movie’ is really important to him.

Gary’s a really good dad. Like yeah he has a lot to learn about not telling his son to ‘stop crying’ and not telling his daughter ‘no boys until you’re married’, but he genuinely wants the best for them. He’s really supportive of their hobbies/sports/interests, and will happily pay for summer camp/field trips/conventions. He might not ‘get it’ all the time, but he’ll smile and nod.

He gets a lot of delight out of really little things. If his kid draws something for him, he’ll pin it to the fridge and smile at it every time he sees it without fail. If MC says she likes a certain shirt on him, he’ll triple the amount of times he wears it. He keeps the bird feeders outside their dining room window full, because he can happily sit with a cup of coffee and watch the birds for hours. It truly is the little things.

He’s really good at remembering MC’s favorite things, or even things she mentioned liking once. This is to the point where it’s a bit confusing. MC will compliment Gary’s nan on her christmas poinsettias one year, then two years later Gary buys a ton of poinsettias and is like “I thought you loved poinsettias” and not be able to remember why he thought that. So MC has to be careful with fake compliments, because Gary cannot tell the difference. But that’s still, like, super endearing and nice of him.

There’s a few LIs that I feel like could get bored in a long-term relationship. I can see Lucas, Felix, and Rahim feeling like they’re ‘falling out of love’ when the intensity of a new relationship fades and they struggle to settle into domesticity. Gary is NOT one of them. He’s one of those “I fall in love with you more every single day” kind of guys. As MC gains weight/ages, he’ll insist “you age like a fine wine” and “I like you more with meat on your bones”. He’ll insist to their kids that “your mom is the most beautiful woman on earth”. Gary was built for long-term relationships.

#pros and cons #headcanons

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1nsomniacwriter · 4 years

Text

FamILY Movie night

Part 10 of my intrulogcial library au

Let me know if you want to be tagged

Ever since Remus and Logan had started dating the others rarely saw the two. They were always holed up in the library being sickeningly cute or in the imagination going on cute or by other standards disturbing because apparently taming ‘evil’ animals for a circus is not normal. Anyways Janus and Patton were looking for the two as it was movie night and Remus turn to choose. He already had some cheese horror movie picked out so he, Janus, and Virgil could make fun of the characters.

Janus banged on the doors to the library and a few seconds later Logan opened one wearing one of Remus’ big hoodies because none of Remus' jackets fit Remus so naturally they wouldn’t fit his taller boyfriend. Remus followed behind in one of Logan’s jackets. Remus’ reading glasses had slid down and he looked adorable with Mortuus in his arms and Corvus on his shoulder.

“Hey guys. Is it time for movie night?” Remus asked.

“Yep. What didn’t you pick?” Janus asked.

“A random horror movie. You, Virgil, and I are going to make fun of the characters like old times,” Remus said, moving Corvus to Logan’s shoulder.

“You know Patton doesn’t like horror movies, Cephy,” Logan said.

“Oh he will the way us ex- dark sides watch them,” Remus said, setting Mortuus down and running down the hall opossum falling.

“She’s like a dog,” Logan muttered.

“Leave it. Remus raised her from a baby,” Janus said.

The three follow after and see Remus dragging his brother and Virgil down the halls. Virgil is grinning and chanting ‘Time to make fun of idiots’ in a sing-song voice and Remus joins in. Roman groans in annoyance and Patton moves to the kitchen to make popcorn. Logan and Janus sigh in annoyance.

“Five bucks says Virgil and Remus have already started on a blanket fort,” Janus said.

“I’m not taking that bet.”

Sure enough a half constructed fort using comforts, sheets, chairs from the kitchen, the recliner, and couch was being built by the duo. Both wore onesies. Virgil was in his skeleton onesie while Remus wore a Stitch onesie.

“Holy shit,” Roman said, staring.

“We’re having a Dark Sides movie night,” Remus chirped as Virgil nodded.

Both were beyond happy. They hadn’t done one of these in forever. Mortuus was scooped up by Roman who also had Avis on his head. Avis began to scream which irritated even Roman so he was taken back to Roman’s room. While Roman took care of Avis Remus and Virgil finished the blanket fort.

“I will never understand how you two do that,” Janus said, crawling into the fort.

“Just because you forgot how to act like a kid doesn’t mean we did Janny,” Remus said.

“I did forget you ass. I just know how to act age,” Janus countered.

“I call bullshit mister, I tried to ask Patton out with fifty frogs you had Remus help you catch. I had to stop you. You are just as much a child as Re and I” Virgil said.

“In my defence they weren’t really cute frogs,” Janus said.

“Of course they were. All frogs are cute,” Virgil said.

“Hey Re why did you give Patton a hedgehog instead of a frog?” Janus asked.

“Because they make good cuddle buddies and Pattycake needs a cuddle buddy for when he can’t cuddle you,” Remus said like it was obvious.

“Huh,” Virgil said.

The other three watched the trio of childish sides.

“Hey Janny,” Remus said.

“Yeah?”

“Dare you to bring Sibium out here,” he said.

“What do I get out of bringing my darling out here?” Janus asked.

“Ummmm…” Remus said.

“You can borrow any item of clothing you want from me,” Virgil butted in.

“Why are you offering?” Janus asked.

“Because I wanna see Sibium too,” Virgil said.

The three ex light sides watched the ex dark sides interact and act like a couple of children.

“Deal,” Janus said and went to crawl out, “You better have the movie set up by the time I get back.”

Remus crawled over to the TV turned it on taking the remote when Virgil offered it.

“What was that?” Roman asked joining them in the pillow fort.

“Jay needed to relax and what better way than joking around like we did back then,” Virgil said.

“Were you guys always like that?” Patton asked.

“Janus has closed off and decided that acting like he once did is bad. I don’t know why. I used to be the cuter vintage outfits, mostly dresses. I think he thinks similar to luce della stella (starlight, Italian), that you have to dress and act a certain way to be listened to and taken seriously,” Remus said.

“How do you-” Logan starts.

“He adores picking apart people's psychology; it’s why he and Emile get along so well,” Virgil said.

“Ah,” Logan said oh so eloquently.

“Sorry,” Remus said.

“Don’t apologize Remus,” Patton chirped and joined everyone.

“Did Remus psychoanalyze someone?” Janus asked to come back with Sibium.

“You and Logan to be exact,” Virgil said stretching over Romans lap.

“He said you used to wear vintage dresses. Why don’t you anymore?” Patton asked.

“I mean I do sometimes,” Janus said.

“You should wear them more,” Patton said.

“Both he and Virgil should go back to how they used to dress,” Remus said as he pushed play.

“Wait what did Virgil dress like?” Roman asked.

“He put effort into how he looked. He would do a full face of makeup, shit ton of jewelry, and full emo outfit,” Janus answered.

“Why did you stop?” Roman asked.

“You guys already picked at me for dressing how I do now multiply that by ten. I wasn’t risking it,” Virgil said.

“It looked cool,” Remus muttered.

“Oh yeah what about your old style?” Virgil asked.

“Huh?” Roman said.

“Dark Academia,” Janus said.

“Shush. I’m watching the movie,” Remus said.

“Liar you just don’t wanna talk about it. You looked cool Remus,” Janus said.

He slipped out of the lying as he relaxed more.

“Meh,” Remus said.

“You did,” Virgil said.

“How about thi,” Patton said, “Next week we go shopping in the imagination and buy you guys a whole new wardrobe of anything you want.”

Everyone agreed before Remus hushed them as he did actually want to watch the movie. The ex dark sides made fun of the characters the whole time. Patton hid in Janus' shoulder during the gory parts. Roman pretended to watch while hiding in Virgil while Logan made fun of the characters with the ex dark sides. As the movie rolled to an end and the last person was killed Remus put on Lilo and Stitch to calm down the other two. By the end of Lilo and Stitch the sides were passed out in the fort.

#logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #Janus Sanders #moceit #intrulogical #prinxiety #intrulogical library au #rem writes

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years

Text

Off Day: Seventeen

Bucky stared at his phone and felt a little light-headed from the speed at which blood had poured into his erection when he opened your message. It was a picture, one that he had asked for on his “To-Do List” that he made.

He knew you liked to torment him, however sweetly. You’d embraced flirting with him quickly and had just as quickly embraced sending him flirty pictures. This one though. It was filthy. One of the things he had put on there that would take you some prep time if you decided to take it for him. A way for you to stay distracted if you got overwhelmed. Or sad. Or any of the other feelings that tended to exacerbate your symptoms.

It made his mouth go dry and his fingers trembled as he tried to type a response. It was a pin-up photo. Artful but undeniably sexy. You were kneeling in front of a mirror in the middle of putting makeup on. Nude but for a pair of heels and the choker he’d bought you. The one with the blue jewel set in gold on a piece of black velvet ribbon. You’d fallen in love with it and protested him buying it. But, it was worth it. You’d changed the jewelry in your nipple piercings to match it. Your thighs were slightly parted and he could just barely see the pink of your folds. But the thing that made him throb was when his eye was drawn down to your plush bottom. He could see the wink of a jewel. Of a toy he’d told you to use. It was beautiful. It made him feel like he was standing behind you, waiting for you to get ready. Watching you. Admiring you from afar.

“Barnes,” Clint said snatching his phone, “Quit lookin’ at porn. You’ll be home tomorrow.”

Clint glanced down at his phone and recoiled, “Oh shit,” he tossed the phone back at Bucky like he’d been shocked, “God. What? Fuck. How do you get a girl to do that?”

“Ask nicely,” Bucky said blushing a little.

“Do you think Nat would do that for me?” Clint asked

“Do what? Nat asked sitting across from them.

“Take dirty pictures and send them to me,” Clint said.

Nat shot Bucky a look, “Bucky!”

“I didn’t show him,” Bucky protested, “Clint took my fucking phone.”

“Was it at least pretty?” Nat asked clint, smirking.

“Very artistic. She put some effort in. I mean. In another life she woulda made a good alt model.” he said, cheeks coloring a little.

Bucky can’t look at either one of them right now. He feels a little like he might have betrayed your trust by Clint getting a peek at you. He promised they’d only be for him.

“I’m not tellin’ her I saw shit though,” Clint said, “I just thought Bucky was watching porn hub. I didn’t know he was doing some freaky shit with his girl.”

Nat snorted, “Oh,” she said, “So you did make a list.”

Bucky nodded, smiling a little, “Yeah,” he said, “thanks for putting that idea in her head.”

Nat grinned, “You’re welcome... We were talking about her doing makeup to distract herself... I was kinda kidding when I suggested dirty pictures but it worked. She likes making you happy. Or teasing you. I’m not sure which.”

“Yes,” Bucky answered nodding. Still blushing. But, it was nice knowing that you and Nat did girl things. Nat didn’t spend much time around women. They irritated her. At least. Most of the women in the bar did. They were pretend tough girls. Bitches. They might ride bikes and drink but they were really boring to her. She liked women that were smart and individual. Not mean girls. She had enough of those in High School.

Nat snorted, “Nice,” she said, “I knew she was a keeper.”

Bucky picked up his phone to message you back, saving the picture for later in the secret file on his phone

He lavishes praise on you. You’re beautiful and perfect. That picture is hot. It’s so sexy he doesn’t know how he’s gonna sleep tonight looking at it. And thank you so much for showing him.

_______

Bucky is glad to be home. It’s chilly outside but it’s warm inside the clubhouse. He’s missed you and he wanted to go straight to White Rabbit to see you but you made him promise not to. You had something you were working on for him, apparently in a back room and didn’t want him to see it. He was itching to see you. It had been three days and he hadn’t slept well the whole time. He’d not realized how used to you he’d gotten. How much better he slept next to you. He sipped his beer and watched the clock, counting seconds until you’d wander through the door.

You were always welcome, even when Bucky wasn’t there just by virtue of being a sweetheart who always paid her tab in full. And by being friendly to Nat and generally patient when waiting for a drink. They all liked you. Even the ones that didn’t remember you from school. If only because you did what they couldn’t do and got Bucky out of a bad relationship. He finished his beer and ordered his second, going to join Steve and Sam at the pool table, trying to kill time until you would be there. It worked. He’d hardly looked at the clock.

He was honestly surprised when you burst through the door, wearing a green pleated skirt and white blouse. Hair up in a bun behind your head and pretty red lips. Knee socks and cute little heeled oxfords. You look like a librarian. Out of place in the bar. Still, when you bolt into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist easily, he chuckles against your lips as you tangle your hands in his hair. He can’t stop you and he doesn’t want to. He hefts you up and ignores the jeers and whoops. There’s nothing but you. Your perfume. The feel of your eager, hungry lips against his. When you come up for air he grins, “Miss me?” he asked, teasing.

“So much,” you say smiling, a little breathless.

“Is this outfit for me?” he asks, kissing your nose.

“Do you like it? I did some shopping when I was up in Red Key.” you look uncertain and he smiles. You have an aesthetic. One you never had enough money to dress for. He really likes watching you build your dream closet a little at a time. Even if he has to threaten to punish you if you don’t buy whatever you’re drooling over occasionally. You deserve it and he likes knowing you feel pretty. He also likes wrapping his leather jacket around you when you’re chilly. He likes how big it is on you and the way it clashes with your neat, pretty style.

“I love it,” he rumbles, “You look real good baby girl. I’m a lucky man, coming home to such a beautiful girl.”

You flush at the praise and he kisses your nose again, “Did you buy yourself anything else?”

“Some pretties and I got my nails done,” you tell him.

He whistles softly and smiles, “Good to know the money I gave you to run around with went to good use, Princess,” he praised. You hadn’t asked but he’d made sure to give you a little something just to entertain yourself with. He’d left it on your dresser in the jar you kept to save up for this or that.

You tilt your head, “Oh no. I used that to get you something,” you say smiling, kissing his cheek. “I had a ton of money in my Princess fund so I used what you left me for something else.”

“Y/N,” he scolded, “You were supposed to use that on something for you.”

“I did. It made me happy buying you something,” you murmur, cheeks coloring.

He swatted your backside affectionately, “Why’re you so sweet, huh?”

“I dunno,” you answer, wiggling to be put down.

“Nuh-uh,” he said, shifting you onto his shoulder and carrying you over to the bar to sit with you on his lap, “Have a glass of wine with me?” he asked.

You sigh, “Not today,,” you say shaking your head. Bucky kisses your head and signals to Nat to put it on his tab as she pours a coke for you. She kept a four-pack of Mini bottles and one wine glass. You were the only one that drank wine, when you did drink and it tickled her.

“Thank you,” you tell her, smiling and raising your glass in toast. “I still don’t understand how the fuck you walked into a biker bar and ordered wine,” she teased.

“Well, you stock it now don’t you?” you answer.

“Only because it’s you and we feel bad making fun of you.”

You shrug, “Much like the sloth, my plan for survival seems to be being as pathetic as possible so that bigger badder people leave me alone.”

Natasha snorted. She could appreciate that you were yourself. You didn’t like beer and wouldn’t pretend to fit in. You’d sip your glass of wine and crack quiet jokes.

“Pathetic?” Sam gasped scandalized, teaching across the bar to grab another bottle, “You’ve successfully whipped the most unrepentant man whore I have ever met AND you get to talk back to Natasha and live.”

“He wasn’t a man whore,” you say leaning against Bucky’s side, “He just didn’t know better.”

“And I’m pretty sure she’s the one that’s whipped,” Steve snickered.

Your cheeks burn and Natasha winces sympathetically, “Steve,” she says, spraying him with seltzer, “You’re fucking Stark so you should probably let the two of them just have their French vanilla sex and enjoy it.”

Bucky tilts your chin up and kisses you softly, cuddling you close and casually flipping off the guys that are D’aww-ing loudly. He’s never understood why guys act like assholes to their girls in public. You deserved soft all the time. You deserved to be able to look to him to feel safe whether or not his friends could see him.

“Shut up, ya animals,” Nat sighed.

______________________

Bucky walked into the house and set his bag down by the door then set you down on the table, standing between your legs and putting his chilled hands on your thighs, rubbing tenderly to warm them up. You shiver and he chuckles, “I missed you, Princess,” he murmurs, kissing your nose.

“I missed you too, daddy,” you answer, hiding your face in his abs.

“You were a handful while I was gone,” he chuckles, “I loved all the pretty pictures you sent me.”

“You did?”

“I did,” he praised, “Lost a lot of sleep wishing I was here to admire how perfect you are in person.”

You beam up at him and he takes the pins out of your hair carefully, letting it fall down to your shoulders. “You’re so perfect,” he hummed, kissing your nose.

Your cheeks color and you nuzzle his abs again, “Can I give you your present now?”

He chucks you under the chin, “You mean the present I told you not to buy?”

“But-” Your face falls and he tickles your side, making you giggle.

“No, no being sad,” he tuts, “Of course you can Princess.” He helps you off the table and listens to your shoes hit the floor outside the door and then listens to you scamper up the stairs. You’re excited. Thrilled about whatever this is and Bucky braces himself. Even if he hates whatever it is, he’s not gonna tell you. Not ever. You’re too sweet and he knows that whatever it is you saw it and thought it was perfect for him. That’s enough.

He helps himself to a beer and waits, listening to the rustling coming from upstairs. He shakes his head and settles into a kitchen chair waiting. When you come back downstairs with a black gift bag in your hand he smirks. You always tried so hard not to make things too feminine for him. He appreciated it but honestly, he wasn’t phased. He’d carry your purse and not even blink. He was a big scary biker. Ain’t no one saying shit.

“What’s this, huh?” he said pulling you onto his knee and taking tissue paper out of the bag and tossing it aside.

You’re practically vibrating with excitement and he pulls the gift out of the bag. It’s a leather jacket. A tiny leather jacket. Like baby-sized. Bucky stops and looks at you. Your hands are over your mouth and you’re watching him waiting on his reaction. “Princess,” he said, not quite able to breathe, “I don’t think this is my size.”

He definitely can’t breathe. He can’t think. If you’re telling him what he thinks you’re saying he has to protect you. He has to keep you safe.

“Bucky I-” you start and he can hear the anxiety in your voice and that hurts. He forces himself to smile and wipes a stray happy tear off your cheek.

“I thought you were on birth control,” he said, feeling like his lips are numb.

“And they put me on antibiotics for my sinus infection- I- I’m sorry. I didn’t- I’m sorry.” You’re starting to cry in earnest now, springing off of his lap and covering your face with your hands.

“Sweetheart,” he soothed, holding his hands out for you to take, “I just- I’m surprised. I think- I think I might have gone into shock for a second.” It’s breaking his heart to see you cry. He hates it. He can’t. It makes him think about all the times you cried and he wasn’t there to dry your tears. “Please, baby girl,” he coaxes, “Please don’t cry. Not like this. I’m sorry. I’m happy I promise.”

“No, you’re not,” you sniffle, wiping your eyes on the back of your hand and wrapping your arms around yourself.

He crosses the floor to you and passes you a clean handkerchief from the inside pocket of his jacket. You take it and he kisses your head while you bow your head and try to rein in all your emotions. Something Bucky still appreciates about your crying. It’s always real. He gives you the time you need before he starts talking again. Taking just a second to decide what to say. And rein in his own panic. His own irrational fear. His dad left. He didn’t know how to be a dad. He could barely take care of himself. How would he teach his son? And oh god, what if it was a girl? What would he do?

When you look up at him though, he can’t think about that. All he knows is he has to fix this for you. You’re his. This baby is his. And this isn’t about him. Not really. You’re trusting him. Giving him this. You could have had an abortion and not told him and he’d never know. You’re looking up at him, uncertain and scared and he realizes with a jolt that he wasn’t the only one that was scared, you’d just had some time to adjust to it. Some time to decide you could do this. With him.

“You’re right,” he says softly, “I’m not happy. I’m terrified.” He kneels in front of you and nuzzles your belly, kissing gently. You pet his hair, waiting. “I don’t- I don’t really know what to do with kids ya know? My dad left- a bunch of times. I don’t really know how to be a dad. I mean. Until recently I was drunk every night and fucking a bunch of different girls.” He looks up at you and smiles a little, “But if I can do this with anyone, Y/N, I can do it with you.”

“Really?” you whimper, tucking hair behind his ear.

“Really.”

“Promise?” you hold out your pinky and he links his pinky through yours, pressing his lips to your thumb and pressing his thumb against it to lock it.

“I promise, Princess,” he said getting to his feet slowly and wrapping his arms around you, “I only get one chance. I’m not gonna fuck this up. Not now that I fooled you into thinking I’m a nice guy.”

You roll your eyes but giggle, making him swat your bottom affectionately. “When did you find out?” he asks softly, setting you on the counter and taking a cool cloth to your face gently.

“About 15 minutes before the girls showed up with pizza for our sleepover,” you murmur.

He kisses your nose, “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Not yet but. Three tests on three different days seemed pretty definitive... I wanted to tell you first before I did anything.”

“We need to get you an appointment, Princess,” he murmured, kissing you softly, “We just got you healthy. I wanna keep you that way. Both of you.” He swipes at your nose gently with the cloth and you smile.

“You’re gonna keep me?”

“Of course I am,” he murmured, “You’re my Princess, and this is for both of us to handle, okay? Just give me some time to process it all. I promise. I’m okay. It was just a shock, baby.”

“Can we have a cuddle?” you ask, needing some comfort.

Bucky nods and helps you gently off the counter, “And snacks. I’m hungry.”

You nod and bucky Listens to your little white socked feet on the wood floors as he glances towards the tiny jacket on the table, “Ma is gonna kill me,” he murmurs rubbing the back of his neck.

Tags: @lancsnerd @etherealwaifgoddess @stevieang @blameitonthecauseway @wellfucksorrymum

#Bucky Barnes #soft bucky #PTSD implied #anxiety attack #fluff #angst if you squint #domestic bucky #biker!bucky #biker!au #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #sam wilson #clint barton #voyerurism #dirty pictures #mild daddy kink

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kim-isnt-seaweed · 4 years

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Hi. I love your page 🤍 Can you please tell me how does it work to get married in Korea? Thanks Sending lots of love to you, and be safe 🥰

Hii! Thank you!

In what way? Like how do you get married or how it's like being married to someone Korean? I assume it's the ..former(??) First one.

Getting married in Korea has it's difficulties and also parts that are much more simple than in America. I think this is gonna be long so bear with me.

(It is long..sorry!!)

So let's start with a disclaimer. This is just from my experience and those around me, plus what you sometimes see on TV. The very basic generalized idea of how it works.

First, your date then you decide to get married. Like it's really like that, your date then at some point in whatever way you and your partner communicate you decide to get married, together as a couple; by this I mean no surprise proposals or whatever. Then you and your partner and both of your parents meet for the first time for a dinner where you tell them your plans, but this part is kinda fuzzy for me, what I've heard is that the old school traditional way is that you don't meet each other's Parents until this point but IDK how true that is now, I know I met T's parents (even his extended family) very fast even by American standards and T's friend who is engaged has met his GF's parents a few times here and there over the years but nothing official (as in going to family weddings together or spending holidays together something T and I did a lot) but anyway, and then as it happens in dramas some parents might be against it (but also Idk how true it is now if they have so much say in who you marry or not but given how much they have to do and pay for it, I feel like it's still true)

Then..you propose. In Korea, people don't actually propose until you officially know you're getting married. T "proposed" to me a week before we registered our marriage, and another of his friends who is already legally married to his wife will propose to her soon. point is you won't get proposed to until you guys already agreed on getting married. When I explained that in America it's usually a surprise and that is when you say yes or no they were kinda shocked haha

After this comes marriage registration and ceremony. The order in which you do this is up to you really, some people do the ceremony first and some people do the ceremony 3 years later like us haha. For the registration process it's fairly simple you get the required documents I can't remember what they are but yeah, go to the ..ward office ?? ( that's what google translate told me) give the papers, sign them and bara bim bara boom(apparently its bada bing bada boom 🙃) you married !!

Now the ceremony is the hard part. Multiple people have told me "Korean wedding ceremonies are a business" and boy they really are, it's a weird give and take of money between family members and most of it is for your parents and in-laws.

So first, The most important thing you have to do is set the venue, there are tons of wedding venues all over Seoul you just gotta choose one, set the date chose the available time (oh, here weddings are always around noon or early afternoon and last probably less than two hours cause you gotta be out before the next wedding) now if you have the venue you basically have everything else American/Colombian brides stress about: decorations for the ceremony?? You just deal with what the venue has that season (there are multiple halls per venue so the hall you choose does have a specific style though) bouquet?? You just chose from the options they give you. Entrance songs? Also, choose from the list. Dress? If you want the venue can also rent some pretty dresses for you. Studio? If you want you can also choose from a few studios the venue has partnerships with. Makeup & hair? If you want you can also do it at the venue. (All these "if you want" things have an extra cost though but not much more if you did it independently) reception?? Pshhh what's a reception?? In Korea you do the ceremony, take some pictures, people eat at the venue's buffet while you do some traditional ceremony with just the family elders, afterward you greet the guests and leave. So yes, in Korea if you have the venue you do take care of most of the things brides back home worry about a lot. T and I have been over this wedding since before we even did anything for it so we just fucken did everything with the venue haha

Once you get the venue then you pick put the dress and do the photoshoot and whatnot, but that is not the hard part. Now you go around the family elders (especially your father-in-law's family) and tell them the news, then traditionally the bride has to give each of her father-in-law's siblings 1million krw (little less than a 1000 dollars??) But worry not! On the day of the ceremony you get half of it back (don't ask me why not even T gets it) obviously my family being in Colombia where the Peso is like 4 times less than the Won can not afford that, so my FIL helped us out. Another part which is apparently traditional is that your in-laws buy you jewelry (in addition to the rings) I got two pairs of earrings and a necklace with two pendants and that's cause I was basically forced ( don't feel that comfortable getting expensive stuff) and then there's this other tradition where the bride's friends barricade the bride in her house and the groom's friends have to coax her to come out with gifts by the groom, we didn't do that -it's actually not that common anymore- but t did get me a bag, remember that one post about the man feeling like he has to buy expensive shit for his partner? Yeh, we actually went yesterday and when we came home as we were going to sleep he said that he felt very good that he finally got me something expensive.

After you go around the family elders asking them to come (i couldn't go cause I had the flu) you do the invitations. Now when booking the venue you give an estimate of around how many people but its usually always around 200, why? Cause guest lists don't exist!!! "Only family and friends/close ones" is not a thing that is used here. T has to invite his whole station, I have to invite everyone at my work, he has to invite everyone in his badminton club and his parents get to invite whoever the fuck they want because this is about them, not you. My MIL's badminton club is all going, people, my FIL works with we have never seen in our lives and random people my MIL knows from her bar, not to mention that you don't get to say "no plus ones" or "no children" just know random people are also gonna show up haha but that's not even the issue either, it's giving the invitations. That's a whole other protocol that fucks me up, it's not like in the u.s were you just casually give people the invitations like "hey, go to my wedding, k, byeee" nope, you gotta invite people to dinner or at the minimum buy them some coffee and shit..iiif your close, if not Idk man I have no one to invite that I'm not close too but T has to invite like captains and superiors and the poor man is stressing the fuck out. To the people you're not that close to (or have to suck up to...there's a lot of sucking up in Korea from what I've learned), a simple online invitation will be enough haha

Now after the invitations, there are a few other details you gotta arrange like who's going to Mc the ceremony (one of T's friends) the picture table (it's a table with pictures of you two but you gotta pay for those too) who's going to receive the money envelopes, it's usually: a person from the brides family gets the money from the bride's guests and a person from the grooms family gets it from his gets but since my guests are less than 20 and I have no family here, who cares. Then who's going to catch the bouquet, apparently here you just don't throw it at a group of women but you have to ask someone specifically, I asked my coworker. And who's going to sing the congratulatory songs (축하) one of T's friends will sing "아로하" by Jo Jung-suk and my coworkers will perform AOA's heart attack. Oh, the venue also has a photographer, and on the day before the ceremony the bride is always in a little room sitting on a small couch while guests take pictures with her and the groom is greeting guests haha oh oh! The moms wear hanboks throughout the ceremony and the aunts too.

Then you have to get the hanboks for the traditional ceremony. You can rent those but the lady convinced us to let her make ours from scratch although you can still give them back to them to rent them but the lady and my MIL convinced us to buy them. The traditional ceremony 폐백 pyebaek, Idk how it really is because I've never seen one but I've been told you are in traditional Korean clothes, do some things like serving tea, bounce some ..some ...nuts? Circle thingies on a cloth, feed the family elders, and do an on-the-floor bow for each and every one of them while they hand you money and give you marriage advice. Then you go out and greet the guests while they eat and you starve (that's what everyone says) and you leave for your honeymoon. We can't go on an actual honeymoon cause of my work and Corona but we'll spend the weekend somewhere nice.

And...

that's all I think. I don't know if I'm missing anything its 3 am Haha

Anyway, i hope this was at least fin to read haha thank you!! You stay safe too!♡

#living in korea #korea #south korea #living abroad #life in korea #married life #expat #day to day #korean #ask

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years

Text

Down With The Rickness; Ch4: Every You, Every Me

Summary: Nova is stressed so Rick tries to make things a little more interesting by taking her to Aeon, a casino outside of time and space.

A/N: Thar be smuts here. And no Halloween chapter because... well this happened instead. I have to thank my beta, my-sun-my-baelish, for all of the help she's given me. It was her idea to bring Flesh Curtains Rick into the story and he will definitely be back. I cannot wait. :D Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think. :D

CW: Smut, drinking, gambling Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 8508

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch3: Scene Of the Crime|

Things fell back into a comfortable pace when we finally made it home with Rick even sleeping in my room more often than not. The coffee I shared with Beth every morning before she left for work was already awkward enough without Rick stumbling loudly out of my room, much to her chagrin. She insisted she didn’t mind, that she was happy for us, but I could still see the twinges of jealousy in her eyes as she watched her father stumble out of my room in my robe in search of his own cup of coffee.

In an attempt to reconcile with her, I spent most of my days scrolling through job listings. On one particular afternoon, I had taken up my search across from Rick when he was at his workbench. I let out a guttural groan after scrolling through the same thirty listings I’d seen for the past two weeks, earning me a raised eyebrow from the irritable scientist sitting on the other side of the workbench.

“Y-You mind keeping your existential despair down over there?” Rick asked, looking up from whatever he was working on with an unconvincing scowl on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my overwhelming stress bothering you?” I asked, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes as I tried to mask the grin forming on my face.

“W-Well, yeah. Yo*uuurp*u mind taking it elsewhere if you’re going to be a nuisance?” he growled, returning to his gadget with a dramatic huff.

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,” I smirked, rolling my eyes as I gathered my laptop to stalk off.

“I was gonna go out in a little bit, i-i-if you wanted to come with me,” he offered, spinning around in his chair and looking genuinely surprised I had taken his complaints seriously.

“Wouldn’t want my- what did you call it? Oh- extentistial despair to distract you in anyway,” I sighed, resisting the urge to grin at him again.

“W-Well, I was hoping it would get your mind off of it.”

“Aren’t you just so thoughtful?”

“I-It’s been said... from time to time-”

“Never. I think you mean never.”

“I-I’m sure someone’s had the wrong idea before.”

I sighed, turning away from Rick and walking to the edge of the garage in contemplation. I could choose to stay here and commiserate over why failure seemed inevitable on the job front or I could go out with Rick and just lose myself in an adventure with him. As I weighed between responsibility and fun, my eyes fell onto my old house next door. It filled my heart with a petty glee to see the house falling into minor disrepair as weeds invaded the formly meticulously kept garden and small groups of crab grasses sprouted up across the lawn. Once the police had finally given me access again, Rick, Beth, and I started destroying the cameras that had kept me locked in the house. It was cathartic to say the least but I still hadn’t stepped foot back in since. There were too many memories haunting those walls and I’d sooner tear the place down than go back into it.

“Alright, let’s go,” I sighed, tearing my eyes away before the nightmares could find their way back in. I sat my laptop down for a moment, a low moan leaking out as my legs stretched as a chill ran down my spine at the sheer relief in it. With a yawn, I headed for the door to go change out of my pajamas and into something more suited for adventure.

“D-D-Don’t worry about getting dressed,” Rick stopped me, making one last adjustment to his device before pulling himself out of his chair with a groan and directing me to his ship.

“Rick, seriously?” I asked, gesturing down to my cartoon covered sweatpants, tattered tank top and flip flops. “I’ll be like, two seconds. You telling me you can’t wait?”

“N-No,” he growled, “You don’t have anything to wear that would fit in where we’re going. We’re going to have to stop along the way.”

“Oh,” I gasped softly, following him to the ship. “So, where are you taking me then?”

“Look, will you just take ‘it’s a surprise’ as a sufficient answer so I can have a bit of fun with this?” Rick scowled as I climbed into the ship, eyeing him hesitantly.

“I mean, I suppose I really don’t have much choice otherwise, do I?” I asked him, eyes narrowed at him as a smirk played on my cheeks.

“That’s what I love about you, you always catch on quickly.”

Our first stop was at an off-world intergalactic mall. Rick sent me into a large dress shop, shoving a large wad space cash into my hands and instructing me to “go nuts”. He departed with a kiss on the cheek as he headed into a Blips and Chitz further into the mall, muttering something about unfinished business.

The humanoid eel creature at the counter turned her nose up to me at first, eyeing my shabby attire until she caught sight of the fistful of cash I was carrying. Her demeanor shifted in an instant, ushering me past the clearance rack I had been eyeing to instead show me the latest gowns they’d just received. She ensured me I would be on the cutting edge of whatever charity gala or ball I would be donning the gown to as I flipped nervously past gowns with price tags I couldn’t read.

“I-I don’t know how much this is-” I held out the wad of cash in my hand to her nervously “-I was just kind of sent here and told to ‘go nuts’’.”

She eyed me suspiciously but remained silent as she quickly counted the money, handing it back with a satisfied smile. She started pulling gowns down, holding them in front of me to get an idea of what would look best before leading me to the lavish dressing rooms in the back of the store. Sizing proved to be no issue as the fabric adjusted itself around me, being snug in all the right places and scooping around my breasts in a scandalous way. After a montage worthy amount of changing, we decided on a long, black sleeveless number. It boasted a light train following behind me and a neckline I knew Rick wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of. She grabbed a pair of heels and a set of jewels for me to wear before pushing a large device over my head, letting it rest on my shoulders. Panic set in as my hair began pulling away from my scalp gently before it was doused and dried my hair quickly and a light spray methodically worked its way over my face. A soft chime rang out and the clerk lifted device with ease, handing me a mirror to take in my appearance. I barely recognized the face staring back at me. My hair fell gently over my shoulders in delicate waves and my makeup was done with skill I’d never possess. The sales clerk led me over to a full length mirror and I was taken aback by my reflection.

I looked so… elegant.

The clerk pointed to the rest of my outfit, sliding my heels and jewelry over to me. The heels were matte black with five inch heels and I stood up nervously in them, I was relieved to discover they were fitted with a balance technology that made walking as easy as if I was barefoot. The jewels hanging from my neck and ears sparkled with purple and blue hues, adding the perfect pop of color to offset the dark gown with the added benefit of accenting my eyes.

“T-Thank you,” I stammered, staring into the mirror to take in the finished product. I handed her back the wad of cash, waving my hand away as she offered me my change as I continued to thank her profusely. I wandered out of the shop in a haze, barely noticing when Rick approached me looking over his shoulder nervously until his eyes fell on me.

“H-Holy shit, Nova,” he gaped, looking me over completely. “You look fucking amazing.”

“I know, right?” I grinned proudly, looking down in amazement at my own cleavage.

“Are you ready then?” he asked with a grin, his eyes struggling to meet mine.

“I guess we’re not going on the usual kind of adventure then?” I trembled, my confidence gone at the reminder of the uncertainty ahead of us.

“You could say that.”

We landed in a large valet, the dinginess of Rick’s ship incredibly apparent next to all of the flashy ships parked around us. A Morty came out to greet us, taking the keys out of Rick’s hand before climbing into the ship and flying off to a garage. My eyes bulged at the sight, turning quickly to Rick with my eyes narrowed.

“Are we back on the fucking Citadel?” I hissed, looking around for the sea of Ricks and Mortys going about their daily lives.

“N-N-No,” Rick assured me quickly. “W-Well, kinda. N-N-Not really. This is a getaway for Ricks. It was built as somewhere to put all the Rickless Mortys and also give Ricks a place to relax when shit gets too serious.”

“So, there’s still going to be a shit ton of Ricks here,” I groaned, walking toward the entrance. The large doors slid open smoothly, allowing me to storm right into a large casino filled with Ricks and Mortys just as I had feared, but also a large variety of other otherworldly creatures. I stopped in my tracks as I looked over the sea of people gambling obscene amounts only to shrug off their losses and slide another tower back out into the circle.

“Welcome to Aeon,” another Morty greeted us. “Do you have a reservation in our hotel for the evening?”

“Y-Yeah,” Rick confirmed, pushing past me gently to handle the Morty in front of us leaving me to continue staring out over the casino floor. A large cluster of Ricks surrounded a craps table, cheering loudly after the shooter let the dice fly out of his hand. Another Rick was ordering a drink from the Morty cocktail server before turning back to a poker table. He looked at his hand, a look of irritation growing on his face as slammed the cards down, tossing a couple chips on top. I didn’t get to see if he’d won as Rick grabbed my hand gently as the Greeter Morty led us to the elevator to show us to the room Rick had reserved for the night.

The room was extravagant, with a full bar directly in front of us as we entered. A Bartender Morty portalled in and Rick ordered himself a drink immediately, allowing me to venture further into the luxurious room. A large four poster bed with delicate fabric draped down sat in the middle of the next room with a large television and sofa at the foot of it. The bed’s linens were quite possibly the softest thing I’d ever touched and I found myself running my hand over the fabric again and again. Rick entered the room behind me, quietly watching as I was mesmerized by a blanket.

“It’s alright, I guess,” he shrugged, setting his empty glass down and pointing to another door in the corner of the room, “You should check out the bathroom. True whirlpool jets, Nova. I’ve gotten lost in those damn things more times than I can count.”

“You’ve been here a lot, I take it?” I asked, breaking my attention from the linens to follow Rick’s suggestion.

“Yeah, this place isn’t called the Aeon for nothing,” Rick explained, “Time literally doesn’t exist here. You could spend ages here and no time passes. It’s outside of the ebb and flow of time.”

“So- Wait, what?” I asked, mouth agape as I turned to face him.

“Don’t think too hard about it, okay?” Rick smirked, “Let’s just put it this way, you could stay fifty years in this place and Madi wouldn’t think you’d been gone longer than an afternoon.”

“B-But, wouldn’t I be ancient by the time I got back?”

“Nope, I’m telling you, no time passes. You won’t age, you won’t gain any weight from any of the food you technically don’t need to eat… The only consequences you face here are with your wallet.”

“That’s… that’s crazy. So you could live here, forever?”

“I-I mean, if you had an infinite amount of money, sure. The fifty years thing was just an exaggeration, this place is not cheap.”

“I can tell,” I grinned, gesturing around to the expensive decor around the room.

“The Flesh Curtains have a show tonight,” Rick remarked, picking up the daily itinerary from the dresser.

“F-Flesh Curtains?” I sighed, biting my lip to resist a laugh.

“So, back in the day, my friends Birdperson and Squanchy formed a band called Flesh Curtains with me. Most Ricks do it but don’t stick with it. These guys are from a timeline that stuck with it and became a success.”

“I hardly consider playing in a casino success,” I said with a snort, glancing over at Rick in disbelief to find him staring at the pamphlet with a glassy look in his eyes.

“Psh,” he said finally, shaking the look away and clearing his throat. “It wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”

“You wanna go back downstairs? Maybe we’ll go see the show tonight?” I offered softly, moving closer and lacing my hand into his. A devilish grin spread over his face as he pulled the door open.

“You know how to play blackjack, right?”

When we made it back to the floor, Rick made a beeline to the first empty blackjack table he could find. The Ricks around us watched us pass, not taking their eyes off of me until Rick shot them a dangerous look. The Morty at the table greeted us, scooping the cards back up and deftly shuffling them again before loading them back into the shoe and waiting for our buy-ins.

“Player’s cards?” he asked, bored. Rick tossed me a handful of colorful bills before pushing his over to the dealer along with a black card. Morty quickly cut out his chips, calling out the total and waiting for his supervisors approval before sliding two stacks of black and green chips across the table to Rick. He turned to me expectantly, raising an eyebrow when I hesitated.

“How much do I give him?” I whispered to Rick, unable to read the symbols on the money.

“Just give him all of it. Trust me, it’s enough.”

I pushed the money across with a trembling hand, earning a sigh from Morty as he counted it up and slid me my own stack of black and green chips.

“Place your bets.”

“Alright, so all you have to do is play one at a time,” Rick said, pushing the chips closer to me. “You’ll be playing the minimum so if you start doing well, feel free to up your bet.”

“I see we have a special guest tonight,” the floor supervisor Rick remarked as Morty started dealing the cards out. “Not often we see a Nova in-”

“-In here. Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot,” I waved him off, not meeting his gaze. I tried to remember the basic strategy rules for blackjack as Morty checked his own hand for blackjack.

“I-I bet,” Floor Rick stuttered, looking between my Rick and I. Rick ignored him, tapping the table to get another card. Nineteen. He waved it off with a satisfied sigh, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his lab coat. The Floor Rick grabbed an ashtray, sliding in front of Rick before turning his attention back to me.

“Eleven,” Morty said, moving his hand from Rick’s hand to mine.

“Double it,” Floor Rick said with a shrug, “It’s a good hand for doubling. All you need is a ten.” I sighed, sliding another chip up next to my initial bet, wincing as Morty slapped the card down on top of it and quickly went to his own hand. Twenty One.

“Twelve. Sixteen. Bust,” he called out flatly as he played his own hand out, quickly paying us our chips and scooping the cards up before chucking them into the discard rack.

“Nice one, Nova. You two let me know if you need anything,” Floor Rick said with a sly grin, pushing himself away from the table and going to check on another table.

“I seriously hope every fucking Rick in this place isn’t going to be on you like that all night,” Rick groaned as Morty dealt out another hand.

“Well, even if they are, I can handle it,” I assured him.

“I-I-It’s just fucking annoying,” Rick grumbled, watching Morty bust his hand again.

We play for another hour before the Supervisor Rick made his way back over to us, making more uncharacteristically friendly conversation with me before being relieved to go on break. The Relief Floor Rick was also enamoured by my presence but kept it to himself, watching me silently from the adjacent table’s computer system.

“Twenty one,” Morty declared, scooping our bets up and placing them in the rack. Rick groaned in frustration, counting his chips angrily.

“That’s five fucking hands in a row, Nova. This is mathmatically fucking impossible,” he lamented, eyeing the stacks of green in front of me suspiciously. “How in the hell have you been doing so well?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” I shrugged, sliding a stack of five into the circle and looking at his expectantly.

“There’s no such thing as fucking luck,” Rick grumbled under his breath, slamming a chunk of black chips into the circle and looking up at Morty.

“W-Wait, before you deal-” I interrupted, holding my hand up to him and smiling softly. A cocktail Morty had come by, calling Rick’s attention away in search of something strong enough to drown his sorrows in. “Do you guys get tips? Like, as a paycheck or something.”

“Y-Yea. Usually doesn’t amount to much though,” he remarked spitefully, his eyes resting on Rick’s back as he spoke.

“So if I put money up for you, you get it if we win?” I grinned devilishly. He nodded quickly, his eyes lighting up as I slid a chip in front of my bet with a wink. “Let’s make you some money kiddo.”

Morty started dealing the hand out as Rick turned back around, handing me a small glass as he watched the hand come out. Another fifteen for Rick and two sevens for me, with Morty showing a six.

“Split them, Nova,” Rick suggested, waving his hand off before pulling out another cigarette.

“Since when do you smoke?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I slid more chips out and signaled for the split.

“It’s a casino thing. Something about this place just makes me want a cigarette,” he shrugged. “You’re betting for Morty? Y-Y-Your streaks coming to an end now.”

“Eleven, Au- er -Nova,” Morty stammered, focusing his attention on the cards. I slid another six chips out, doubling the hand for a solid nineteen. The other hand turned into seventeen, leaving me to wave it off and hope for the best.

“Looks like I’m doing just fine,” I smirked, looking over to Rick. He didn’t respond, gesturing to Morty’s hand across the table.

“Twenty,” he called out mournfully, scooping up the bets and thanking me.

“Here, just take it,” I said stubbornly, not taking my eyes off of Rick as I tossed him a couple chips for him to drop in his toke box.

“T-T-Thank you, Aunt Nova,” he said, his cheeks flushing at my name again.

“Tonight in our Event Center, come see Flesh Curtains, only at Aeon!” a voice called over the intercom. Rick checked his watch, sighing inwardly as his slid his remaining chips across to Morty.

“Color me up,” he ordered, sliding our money to Morty before turning to me, “You ready to go see the greatest band in existence?”

“Greatest band, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he grabbed his money and finished his drink. He didn’t respond, taking my hand and pulling me through the sea of aliens and Ricks headed to the Event Center. The Mortys scanning tickets looked frustrated as devices were thrust into their faces by desperate fans. Rick pushed our way to a lone Rick standing guard, flashing his black card again and speaking in low tones. Whatever he said must have had an effect as the Rick dropped the rope, allowing Rick and I through to the back door and into the cavernous theater.

Seats were squashed together as aliens milled into the theater, finding their seats. Rick moved around them deftly, pulling me behind him to a small door by the stage where we were met with a bored looking Morty who let us pass after Rick flashed his card at him again.

“So is that just a ‘get whatever the fuck you want’ card?” I asked as the door to backstage closed behind me with a soft click.

“I guess you could call it that. I used to be in here all the time. I’m an Ultra member here.”

“Where in the hell is all this money coming from?” I demanded, quietly jealous of Rick’s seemingly endless supply of income.

“W-Well, you see- I’ve made some things that- W-Well- You remember Scar, right?” he stammered, running his hand through his hair.

“Yes…” I drew out, ignoring the ache that echoed through my chest at the memory of the Rick that saved my life.

“Well, I d-did that- I DO that a lot,” he said, shifting awkwardly before returning his hand to his hair.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so while I may not have a lot of Earth’s currency, I do pretty damn well otherwise,” he explained hesitantly as we approached a large door with a star bedazzled to it. Rick knocked that same knock he used on Scar’s door, tapping his foot impatiently before the door swung open to reveal another Rick that made my jaw drop.

“Rick N-682, as I fucking live and breathe,” he smirked, shaking Rick’s hand before his gaze rested on me. This Rick was a sight to behold. His loose blue tank top dipped lazily down to his jeans, giving me a tantalizing view of his navel. I pulled my eyes away from his skull belt buckle long enough to notice how much younger than my Rick, confirming his claims about time’s effect, or lack thereof, here. He nodded in acknowledgement at me before leading us into his dressing room, a small grin playing on his cheek. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, drinking in his every movement as he talked caught up with Rick.

“I see you haven’t changed,” Rick remarked, his eyes tracing to a closed door before meeting the other Rick’s gaze. “This is my Nova, by the way. Nova, this is Rick F-287.”

“Just call me Ricky, it’s a lot easier,” the much more laid back version of my Rick assured me.

“Oh! Another Nova!” a voice called out from another room. My reverie was broken when another… me appeared out of a makeshift bedroom wearing an excited look and more fishnets and dark makeup than I’ve ever owned. I felt out of place in comparison to her relaxed wear but I had to admit, I looked fucking hot.

“Baby, why don’t you don’t you introduce her to the others,” her Rick suggested, gesturing behind her.

“Oh! Sure, come with me,” Punk Nova grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her. I spared one last fleeting glance back at my Rick before she closed the door behind us..

The ‘Others’ it turned out was more… Novas. This Rick had a veritable harem of Novas just hanging out in his dressing room. My vision spun at the sight of them, my knees going weak before Punk Nova grabbed me by my shoulder and led me over to the couch.

“You okay?” a Nova with bright pink hair asked urgently, coming to rest at my side. She was a stark contrast to the punk Nova who led me in here, wearing a tight lilac t-shirt with the Flesh Curtains plastered on the front with a short blue skirt and neon makeup. My tunnel vision was becoming worse as I stared into her face blankly. It felt like I was looking through one of those filters Madi had on her phone but I could feel her hand on my back rubbing soothingly.

“Seriously, P-465?” another Nova with long dark hair chimed in, pulling her away to give me space to breathe.

“Goddammit, Kat. It’s Pinkie. You know that,” she reared back at annoyed looking version of me.

“K-Kat? P-Pinkie?” I stammered, trying to make sense of everything. “Y-Y-You’re not Novas?”

“It’s only fucking Pinkie when you’re not on my last goddamn nerve,” Kat retorted before looking back at me with a sigh. “No, we’re Novas. We’ve adopted nicknames so we can keep each other straight. It gets old when some says Nova and five people respond.”

“Y-Y-Yea, makes total sense,” I nodded numbly. “W-What are you all doing here?”

“Why don’t you just get your head on straight, first,” Punk Nova said comfortingly. “I’m Riff, by the way. That’s Harley-” she pointed to a fourth Nova with red and black hair “-and fuck knows where Norma went. She’s new around these parts.”

“S-So, you guys are h-here because you want to be r-r-right?”

“Of course we are! We lost our Ricks, so Ricky takes care of us,” Pinkie gushed, staring at the door. My stomach churned at her infatuation with the rockstar, knowing exactly which dark part of me that stemmed from.

“Ugh, she makes it sound so weird,” Kat groaned, glaring at the pink haired version of her. “My Rick blew himself up, so I tried to go to the Citadel for help because I was heartbroken. They couldn’t help but they sent me to… him. He took me in and he does take care of me but it’s not how Pinkie makes it sound. I’m not helpless without him. I just didn’t want to… be without him.”

“I’m sorry I love him, Kat,” Pinkie shot coldly, “I don’t want him to think I’m taking him for granted.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Riff swore, “just shut the fuck up Pinkie.”

“Rick knows how I feel about him,” Kat hissed, advancing toward Pinkie.

“Kat, don’t.” Riff tried to mediate between the two but the fury in Kat’s eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen in the mirror. “She’s not worth it.”

“You know he hates it when you two fight,” Harley groaned, finally pulling her nose out of the book she’d been reading. “He’s about to go on stage, he doesn’t need you at each other's throats.”

The bickering between the four continued as I watched, unable to believe any of it. How were these girls… me? Sure we were physically identical for the most part but the difference in our personalities was glaring.

“Ladies, ladies,” Ricky mitigated, clapping his hands as he entered the room. My Rick followed closely behind him, the smirk lurking beneath the surface coming to fruition as he met my eye.

“She started it!” Pinkie cried, running into Ricky’s arms. He groaned, pulling her away to look her in the eyes.

“Come on Pinkie,” he growled, “This is just fucking juvenile, you know that right?”

“She kept egging me on,” Kat snarled, standing up defiantly.

“Just- Don’t,” Ricky chastised her, holding up a finger in her direction to silence her. “Pinkie, you need to knock this shit off.”

“I don’t get why she’s here,” Pinkie whined, shooting daggers at Kat.

“N-682, why don’t you and your Nova head out to the balcony seats. I need to take care of this,” Ricky sighed, giving my Rick an apologetic look.

“So that was… weird,” I murmured as we walked back out into the amphitheater to our seats.

“What? Seeing yourself in a thousand different variations?” Rick asked with a grin. “You get used to it.”

“I can’t believe you just let me nose dive into that situation,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

He checked a small sheet of paper that Ricky had given him before pushing through a thick curtain to a small balcony befitted with cozy couches with an excellent view down to the stage. A small group of tittering well-to-do’s were huddled together speaking in low tones, only stopping to lift their piercing gaze to us. Rick shot them a dirty look, pushing past them and flopping down on the couch in front row.

“You would have seen them either way,” he shrugged, kicking his feet up onto the railing, much to the disapproval of the others. “You gonna sit down or what?”

“Oh shit,” I swore, earning me a dirty look of my own. I sat down on the edge of the couch, back rigid as I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “You know, I think I took our adventures for granted.”

“Oh, did you now?” Rick grinned, raising an eyebrow over at me. “You don’t like your taste of opulence and decadence?”

“Let’s just say, I felt a lot more comfortable in dirty pawn shops and cheap arcades,” I muttered, earning a grin as loudspeaker sounded.

“Hello and welcome guests of Aeon Casino!” an announcer declared as the lights went down and focused on the stage. “Tonight we have a special treat for you, brand new material from the Flesh Curtain’s new album ‘Pushing Buttons’!”

Three figures emerged onto the stage, the crowd roaring with excitement at the sight of them. I recognized Rick immediately but he was joined by what looked like a large bird and a cat. I turned to Rick, my brow furrowed.

“Birdperson and Squanchy,” he shouted over the crowd. “Come on Nova, can’t you just relax and have a little fun?” he asked, pulling me back onto the couch and putting his arm around me. I let out a sigh, trying to emulate the same devil-may-care attitude Rick always had but the eruption of the crowd as the Rick on stage grabbed the mic set me right back on edge. Rick noticed my stiffened demeanor, pulling me in closer and kissing the top of my head.

“What’s up, you pieces of shit!?” Ricky screamed into the mic, surveying the crowd with a smug grin as they roared in delight before passing the mic back to Birdperson.

“Thank you for joining us tonight,” Birdperson said, his voice monotone. I raised an eyebrow at Rick but only received a gentle headshake in response, his eyes trained on the group down below.

The music was loud and abrasive but I had to admit, I loved it. The group of snobs behind us finally started letting loose as the show went on and they downed drink after drink. They even started sending drinks our way, much to Rick’s delight. When our drinks emptied, another appeared in its place, courtesy of our new friends behind us. Soon enough, one of the women with them grabbed my hand and pulled me in close, dancing sloppily as Rick watched with a bemused grin. My ears were ringing and my cheeks hurt from grinning but I was finally feeling relaxed. No one to judge as I danced and drank, Rick even joining in.

“Squanch you and good night!” the cat on drums shouted before letting out one final drum solo. The show lasted three hours but it truly felt like no time had passed. A large alien bodyguard appeared in our archway, informing Rick and I that Ricky wanted us to come back by his dressing room for an after party. I thanked the group behind before Rick and I followed the creature back down the hallways, pushing through a sea of screaming fans that were just desperate for a glimpse of the band they seemed to live their lives by.

“N-682! You made it!” Ricky shouted, tripping over a large bag of empty beer bottles as Rick pushed his way into the dressing room. While it hadn’t been necessarily clean before, it was truly trashed now. The door to the bedroom had been ripped off its hinges, leaving a perfect view of the Novas doing a line with Squanchy. A group of aliens were spread out on the floor, countless bottles surrounding them as they told stories of antics past while Birdperson sat rigidly in a corner chair, his foot calmly tapping to the beat of the music blasting out of the stereo next to him.

“Rick,” he said evenly, “it is good to see you.”

“‘Pers, my man. Always a pleasure,” Rick said, playfully smacking Birdperson’s shoulder before pulling up a chair next to him. This left me standing awkwardly in the doorway holding my arm and wishing I could just go home or at least back to the room. I opened my mouth to tell Rick but Ricky grabbed my elbow gently.

“Hey, yo*uuurp*u okay?” he asked softly, wearing a look of concern I’d only really seen on my Rick.

“Y-Y-Yeah,” I stammered, shifting nervously and giving my lie away. “I’m just not really good in… social settings, I guess. Plus I’m a little drunk and I’m not even sure why I’m admitting it but here we are.” Ricky chuckled at my rambling but said nothing, nodding over at my Rick and leading me away from the din of the party guests. He opened a door, finding the room occupied by creatures in what looked like a compromising position, slamming it shut quickly as he continued his hunt for somewhere quiet. He finally circled back, going to the only door he had skipped, opening it with an apologetic look.

“Sorry this might not be ideal.”

“This is a bathroom with fresh vomit,” I grinned, holding my fingers under my nose to block most of the smell. The toilet was overflowing with vomit and the sink had its fair share as well. Now this is what I was accustomed to when it came to adventuring with Rick. Dirty surroundings and smells I’d rather not be smelling. I could feel the tension melting away from my shoulders already.

“S-Somehow it doesn’t seem to be bothering you all the much,” he remarked, flushing the toilet fruitlessly.

“This is what my life usually consists of,” I shrugged, “Hell, you get me out of this dress and into some running shoes and I’ll be top of my game.”

He raised an eyebrow, disappearing for a moment and returning with a change of clothes. He held them through the doorway, giving me the privacy to change. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of the heels and into a black pair of running shoes. I was grateful to get out of the dress, no matter how beautiful it was and into a pair of leggings and Flesh Curtains tank top. I peeked around the door to find Ricky coming back down the hall with a large bottle and two red cups.

“Oh no, no, no,” I grinned, stepping away from him. “I’ve seen how this timeline goes, a bottle and two cups never ends well for me.”

“Oh come on, Nova,” Ricky grinned, pouring a shot into the cup and handing it over to me. “You said you were already drunk. I think that ships sailed.” I considered a moment, biting my lip to fight back the grin playing on my cheek as I stared at the cup.

“How does alcohol even get you drunk here anyway?” I asked, eyeing the bottle. “Rick said there were no consequences here.”

“Nova, this is a fucking casino. Without booze, this place would be entirely pointless.”

“Alright then, fine,” I relented, taking the cup and trying to fight the grin spreading over my face. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was because he was Rick, even if it was just a different version of him. Maybe it was just the fact he was so kind.

“I knew you’d see reason,” he grinned again, drinking straight from the bottle.

“So why in the hell are you being so nice to me?” I asked, sputtering from the liquor. He raised an eyebrow at me in confusion so I continued, “Like, I’ve been on the Citadel enough for twelve lifetimes. The Ricks there don’t seem to care much about Nova’s there. There was one ready to kill me just to kill my Rick.”

“Oh, damn. I dunno. I like Novas,” he shrugged, pouring us each another shot. “I’m sure your Rick would say I’ve become soft with fame, but I just don’t like seeing Nova’s upset.”

“My Rick would say he’s become soft,” I snorted, taking another drink. “So why do you have a veritable harem here?”

“H-Harem?” he coughed, choking on his drink. “Do you think I keep them around to just fuck them constantly?”

“Well, I mean… what else you be doing with them?”

“Treating them like human fucking beings? If a Nova I meet doesn’t want to sleep with me but needs somewhere to go, I help them. It’s pretty fucking cut and dry,” he explained, “Some stick around, like Pinkie, but some will inevitably move on, like Riff or Kat. I’m a fucking millionaire. I can swing it.”

“But, you’re a Rick, right?” I asked, holding my cup out for more. “From what I’ve come to understand, Ricks don’t do anything without there being a benefit to them.”

“Look, I mean, whatever benefits I get from being around a sea of Novas is inconsequential,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck before downing the rest of his drink.

“Aha! I knew it!”

“Who told you that, anyway? That’s a pretty depressing way to view a guy who’s supposed to lo-care about you.”

“My Morty,” I shrugged, sliding down against the wall. “He’s been, uh, pretty insistent on it lately. He wants me to just leave Rick and just go after someone better.”

“Ugh, Morties,” he grimaced, “Look, don’t listen to that twat. He really doesn’t know shit about shit.”

“Agree to disagree on that one, compadre,” I dismissed lazily, my limbs becoming far heavier than I remembered. “W-Where is Rick, anyway?”

“He was out there talking to Birdperson last I saw,” he reassured me, sliding down against the wall next to me.

“H-He isn’t worried about where I disappeared to?” I slurred sadly, offering my cup back over to Ricky.

“Come on, sweetheart, he knows I’m with you,” he chastised me.

“H-H-How does he know you’re not in here making moves on me or whatever?”

“Because he knows I’m not one of those Ricks,” he growled. “You really don’t trust how he feels about you do you?”

“Wh-Why should I? He never says anything either way,” I mourned, downing the shot and quickly asking for another.

“Look, I can’t speak for your relationship, but I know that Rick. He was one of the first ones I met when the Citadel formed. There are Ricks out there that don’t care about their Novas. Hell, I heard about one a couple months back who let his Nova overdose because if she couldn’t keep up, then she wasn’t all she was chalked up to be. Do you really think that sounds like the guy you’re with?”

“No,” I admitted shamefully, my head drooping slightly as the alcohol weighed it down. “I’ve just been through a lot-”

“Y-Y-You don’t have to launch into the story, I know it all too well,” Ricky stopped me quickly, holding up a hand. “We Ricks aren’t good with the whole… emotional openness garbage. There are a couple oddballs out there but if you think you’re going to get some soft ‘I’ll love you until the end of time’ crap, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

I didn’t respond, staring into the murky liquid. Ricky didn’t push me, allowing me to lose myself in my thoughts for what seemed like hours until my eyelids started drooping. I felt Ricky push past me gently, pulling the door out and disappearing through it before I lost the fight and let my eyelids slam shut.

“N-Nova. H-Hey Nova, come on. Let me help you up, sweetheart. Let’s go home,” a gruff voice murmured. I could feel my limbs being tugged softly as they were pulled over a set of shoulders as I was brought back up to my feet. “Come on, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Wh-Wh-What happened?” I asked, trying to open my eyes. “Where am I? Wh-Who are you?”

“Oh jesus, you really got fucked up,” he chuckled, adjusting fruitlessly over his shoulders before letting out a frustrated sigh. “This is not fucking working. Nova, baby, I need you to hold onto me as tight as you can, okay?”

“O-Okay, mystery man,” I giggled. My arm was brought back around his neck, only for him to lift me up, bridal style. I tried to open my eyes again and caught a glimpse of blue hair before they slid shut again. “Which one are you?”

“I could be any Rick in conceivable existence,” he laughed darkly, “and there would be nothing you could do about it.” I recoiled away from him, trying to fight my way out his embrace to no avail. “Jesus Nova, I was joking. It’s me- I’m your Rick,” he groaned, pulling me in tighter.

“Oh, good,” I nodded, tucking my head back into his chest. The rhythmic bounce of each step lulled me into a complacent state and by the time he sat me back down, we were in his ship, rocketing through space.

It was dark when finally landed back in the driveway. Most of the alcohol had left my system, leaving me with a throbbing headache and parched throat. Rick pushed his door over, making his way over to my side to pull me out himself.

“Oh shit, you’re awake.” His voice was husky as he surveyed my lazy form, chuckling to himself before walking over to his workbench. He started mixing chemicals, testing his concoction by taste until it seemed to be satisfying enough. He brought his finished product back over to me, offering it to me.

“No offense, but what the fuck is that?” I asked bluntly.

“L-Look- Just drink it okay? Your fuckin’ head hurts right? This will make it stop.”

I grabbed the cup out of his hand, smelling it once for good measure before downing it. The taste was vile but the pain in my head and stomach stopped up instantly as my vision cleared up. I pulled myself out of the ship, surprised to find my legs steady as I stood up.

“Wh-What was in that?”

“It’s just my hangover cure,” he shrugged. “It’s been saving my ass over the last twenty years.”

“Thanks, Rick,” I murmured, moving closer to him. “For everything. I had a lot of fun.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” he stammered, his voice gravelly as he rested his hand on the small of my back.

My head may have been cleared up by his “cure” but being this close to him was intoxicating all on its own. I bit my lip as I looked up at him, earning me a low growl as he pressed his lips to mind, kissing me desperately. I returned his kiss eagerly, pulling him closer to me. He picked me up with ease, carrying me over his workbench.

“Are you sure you wanna do this out here?” I breathed, breaking the kiss to both of our frustration. “Beth-”

“Beth’s asleep,” he growled, reclaiming my lips. I wanted to continue arguing but his wandering hands pushed the thought right out of my mind. He worked his hand up under my shirt, pleased to find no bra underneath. My breast was cupped in one hand while the other worked its way into my hair, curling around my hair to pull my head away from him. My neck exposed, he watched me squirm underneath of him. I was completely under his control and he was enjoying every moment of it.

“R-Rick- Rick please,” I begged softly, desperate for stimulation of any kind.

“All in good time, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear, lingering just inches away. “What do you want me to do to you, Nova? Tell me what you want.”

“R-Rick, I-”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.”

“I want- I want you, please,” I cried desperately, “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know that,” he chuckled darkly. “I want to know what you want me to do to you right now. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to make you scream my name until you forget your own?”

“Jesus, fuck yes, Rick,” I gasped, biting my lip again. He growled softly at the sight, panting softly as he dropped his hand from my breast, searching instead for the warmth below. He traced his fingers around my thighs, making sure to avoid the most sensitive area.

“So you want me to slide my cock in right here?” he asked, tracing a large circle around the throbbing mound between my legs.

“I need it,” I pleaded, clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer.

“Who am I to deny you?” he cooed in my ear, releasing my hair and gripping the sides of my yoga pants. He tossed them to the side as the cool air swirled around my exposed lower half. I shivered as I watched him unbuckle his pants, letting them fall lazily to ground as he pushed his way between my thighs. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down my moist slit.

“Oh Rick, oh fuck,” I murmured, my hands firmly rooted on his shoulders.

“Say my fucking name, Nova. Let the neighbors know who’s fucking you,” he growled, continuing his assault on my clit to torturous effect.

“Rick!” I moaned. At my compliance he slid the tip in, sliding it in and out slowly.

“Louder, Nova. I don’t think they heard you,” he ordered, his voice being over by a slight pant.

“Fuck, Rick! It’s you! Rick fucking Sanchez!” I shouted, letting my head fall back. He slammed into me finally as I continued screaming his name as loud as I possibly could. I released his shoulders, laying back on the table and pulling my knees into my chest. He quickened his pace, using his thumb to massage my clit gently.

“Fuck, Nova,” he panted as he buried himself in me, “You feel fucking amazing.”

I could feel my orgasm building, only moments from my release as he fell into a steady rhythm. I would have made there had it not been for the garage door swinging open, slamming into the dryer behind it.

“God fucking dammit, Dad!” Beth bellowed, shielding her eyes from the sight of her father burying his cock into her best friend. “I cannot fucking do this anymore, you guys need to stop!”

“H-Hold on, honey,” Rick grunted, quickening his pace.

“R-Rick, no- Stop,” I insisted, pushing him away from me. He conceded, pulling out of me and bending down to pull his pants up.

“What the fuck do you want, Beth?” he snarled, turning to face his daughter, taking care to shield my exposed form. I looked around desperately for my pants only to find them dangling haphazardly on the Meeseeks box.

“I want this to fucking stop,” she demanded, avoiding my gaze. “You’re waking up the entire fucking house. I sure as fuck don’t want to hear it.”

“B-Beth, I-I’m sorry,” I blushed, pulling my shirt down as much as possible.

“You know what, I don’t want to fucking hear it, Nova. Your daughter is asleep in this house,” she hissed, finally meeting my gaze. A look of fury I had never seen before distorted her features as she glared at me, turning to disgust as her eyes drifted downward. “Dad, you need to stop this, now. Nova, it might be time for you to start looking for somewhere else to live.”

“B-Beth, wait- please, no,” I begged, tears streaking down my cheeks.

“You know, I’m starting to think Jerry was right about you two,” Beth said coldly, “I thought I was okay with it when it meant Dad would stay but I was wrong. What you’re doing with him is wrong. He’s my fucking father, you sick fucking bitch,”

“Jesus fucking christ Beth, stop,” Rick cut in, advancing toward her. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

“Why not?” she asked hysterically. “You two didn’t consider my feelings in the situation. I’m just supposed to be okay with it? Even when the thought makes me feel sick to my stomach?”

“Your fucking hangups are not our problems,” Rick snarled. He grabbed my pants off of the shelf, tossing them back to me. I slipped them on quickly and pushed past Rick.

“Beth, I’m sorry. We were really inconsiderate, I’m so fucking sorry.” I pleaded with my friend to see reason but the cold, clinical disgust in her eyes assured me it was a lost cause.

“You need to leave,” she repeated coldly. “Madison can stay here until you have somewhere to go but I suggest you go back to your house tonight. I don’t want to see you here in the morning.”

“Beth, she’s not going anywhere-”

“No, Rick. It’s fine,” I conceded, wiping the tears away as I pushed the garage door opener.

“No, Nova. You’re not going anywhere,” he roared, pushing the button again. “I-I can fix this.” He started digging through the drawers at his workbench, finally extracting a large gun with two discs. He pushed a couple buttons before aiming it at Beth, pulling the trigger. She crumpled to the floor, eyes glazed over.

“Rick! What did you do to her?” I asked, horrified. “Did you kill Beth?!”

“Wh-What? No?” he retorted, insulted by the accusation. “I just erase the last half an hour from her memory. I’m going to put her back in her bed, when she wakes up she won’t remember any of this.” He pulled a vial from the device, loading it with another before sitting it down on his workbench.

“S-So, everything’s okay now?” I asked numbly. He nodded quickly, pulling Beth over his shoulder. “I’m just- I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Y-You okay?” he asked, stopping at the door to face me.

“I-I’m fine,” I murmured, pushing past him. I couldn’t get Beth’s words out of my head as I went into my room, locking the door behind me before collapsing in my bed.

“He’s my fucking father, you sick bitch.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for me to leave.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader

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thatfanficstuff · 5 years

Text

The Light in my Darkness - 9

Pairing: Clint x Reader

Warning: nope

****

By the time Friday came, all of your furniture had been delivered and set up. You were even mostly unpacked, though that wasn’t much of a feat considering most of your belongings were art supplies. You’d even found time to pick up the books and supplies you’d need for the semester. And, as you predicted, Clint gave you entirely too much money.

It was midafternoon when someone buzzed to be let in. “Yeah.”

“It’s me,” came Wanda’s chipper voice.

You grinned and let her in. You already had the front door open before she arrived, arms heavy with bags and packages. “Holy crap, Wanda. Are you moving in or what?” you joked as you unburdened her of some of the load.

“I come bearing gifts,” she announced as she dropped the rest of the things on your sofa. “And to help you get ready for your date.”

Your face heated. “It’s not a date.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. Then I’m here to help you get ready for your not date.”

You sat the things in your hands on the table and shut and locked the front door. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but you aren’t exactly what I was expecting when Clint said he would send me a dress.”

“I volunteered so I could help with your hair and makeup. Besides, I’m having fun tormenting him. He keeps waiting for me to yell at him for dating you. The more accepting and nicer I am about things, the more paranoid he gets. It’s amazing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m still not trusting it entirely myself.”

“I have my reasons, thank you. Now, look at the dress.” She thrust a box in your direction.

After taking it from her, you sat it on the counter in the kitchen to open it. You tossed the lid to the side and peeled back the tissue paper to reveal a stunning royal blue dress. When you pulled it out to hold it up, you were surprised at the weight though that was undoubtedly due to the beads on the bodice. It certainly wasn’t from the light, airy fabric that made up the layered skirt. “It’s beautiful.”

Wanda nodded. “And there are matching shoes and a clutch. There’s even jewelry around here somewhere.” She glanced around at the boxes.

You frowned and tucked the dress back into the box. “This is a lot.”

She tilted her head and looked you over. “If it makes you feel any better, he probably had the personal shopper at the store pick out everything. That’s what he usually does.”

It did make you feel better, but also a little disappointed. You sighed. What the hell was wrong with you? “I’ll order pizza. You want the usual?”

She nodded and began hauling everything back to your bedroom.

***

Clint glanced at the time and tapped his fingers on his desk before checking his phone for the third time in ten minutes. He had expected to hear from you after the dress and things were delivered. He was worried you wouldn’t like it. He hadn’t given you enough time to find something else if you didn’t.

He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t even be caring. Normally, he wouldn’t. Of course, he also normally didn’t tell the shopper what color of dress he wanted or take the time to pick out the jewels himself. He’d only done it because he didn’t want Wanda thinking he didn’t care about you. She’d seemed pleased so maybe it worked.

Or maybe she was just waiting until his guard was down to tell him he was a dirty old man for lusting after her best friend. It was a conversation he tried to have with himself more than once, but it wasn’t working. The chemistry between the two of you was too intense for him to care. He shifted in his seat as he remembered the last time he’d seen you. Work had kept him busy the last couple of days, though the two of you had still managed to text often.

Finally unable to take the suspense any longer, he sent you a text. Does everything meet expectations?

You responded almost immediately. It’s Wanda. I took her phone. She kept wanting to send you pictures.

He chuckled. And?

No pictures. She says everything is lovely and thank you.

That didn’t sound like you at all. He pursed his lips and wondered what his daughter was up to. Really?

No she says you spent too much. Must go.

Now, that sounded like you. His mouth twisted into a smirk as he imagined how flustered you’d been when you saw everything he’d sent. A glance at the clock had him wondering if you’d even seen the jewelry yet. Knowing Wanda, she’d keep it tucked away until you were ready to walk out the door.

***

“Well,” you asked as you spun for Wanda to take in the entire ensemble. She had managed to make your hair look like you’d spent tons at a salon and made your makeup look dramatic but subtle at the same time. She had a far more deft hand than you’d ever had.

She beamed and you couldn’t help but smile in return. “One more thing.” When she came over, she had a velvet box in her hands. She flipped it open and you gasped.

“Those aren’t real.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Because if they were real, there was absolutely no way you could wear them. Not only would it mean Clint had spent entirely too much money on you, but you would need an armed guard to make you feel comfortable in public.

Wanda frowned at them then looked back to you. “They aren’t? Because I’m fairly certain they are.”

You shook your head and took a step back.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped and you immediately stopped moving. Wanda could be scary when she wanted to be. She handed you the box and your hands trembled as you took it from her. “Now, put them on or I will put them on for you.”

You took a deep breath and gave her a nod of compliance. The necklace was an intricate design of diamonds and sapphires. The clear stones formed a vine of leaves that wrapped around your neck dotted with sapphire flowers. The earrings were simple sapphire teardrops. You looked at yourself in the mirror after you’d put them on and your fingers ran across the necklace. It was far more delicate than it had any right to be considering the amount of stones it contained. It was stunning.

That anyone thought you worthy of such a thing had tears coming to your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Wanda scolded behind you. “You will ruin your face.”

You laughed and wiped away the moisture before it could destroy her hard work. Just as you finished, there was a buzz. Your ride had arrived. Wanda buzzed back and let them know you would be right down.

“Come,” she said as she handed you the clutch that contained only your phone, keys and lipstick. After one last look in the mirror, you followed her out. You took the elevator, not caring to risk your neck by taking the stairs in your heels.

Wanda gave you a hug before heading to her car. Your gaze trailed her until she was safely inside and you turned to the car that was waiting for you. Scott grinned at you when you met his gaze. “You look great, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” A glance inside the car showed it to be empty. “Where’s Clint?”

“He’ll meet you at the venue. One of the company drivers is taking him. He had some work to finish up.”

You nodded and slid into the car, Scott helping you make sure all of your dress was tucked inside with you. A little lump of disappointment settled in the middle of your chest and you did your best to brush it aside. That’s not what this was. You knew that. It was a business arrangement. It was a mantra you needed to learn to repeat often.

You scrolled through your phone, reading over the texts between Wanda and Clint. You smiled then started typing one of your own.

***

Clint ran his hands down the front of his tux making sure everything was in place then straightened his bowtie. He had intended to meet you at your door, but a last minute contract issue had come across his desk that couldn’t wait until Monday. He preferred not to work weekends if it could be avoided.

A knock sounded on his door. “Yeah.”

It swung open to reveal Natasha. She smirked as she looked him over. “Looking sharp as always, Clint.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me again why I let you out of this event?”

“Because I send the RSVPs and I didn’t want to go. Besides, you’ve got your new girlfriend to accompany you. You’ll be fine.” Nat used to love to go to things with him. The two of them would hole up somewhere in a corner together and laugh away the night. Lately she’d been attending fewer and fewer.

He blamed Bucky. They’d known each other for years but had only recently started dating. Bucky didn’t do well around people he didn’t know and she was perfectly happy to just stay home with him. As long as she was happy, Clint tried not to complain.

“I actually have a purpose here besides ogling you in your tux. Did you rework the Johnson contract?”

He scowled. Johnson was a long time client who wanted to renegotiate his normal contract at the last minute. He had even threatened to take his business elsewhere if Hawkeye didn’t comply. Where he thought he was going to get merchandise of a comparable quality at the prices they offered, Clint had no idea. “It’s done and sent. I didn’t give him anything he wanted though I did compromise a bit. He either signs it or he doesn’t. I don’t like bullies.”

Nat nodded. “Perfect. That’s all I needed. Have a nice time on your date,” she said with a smirk and a little wave.

He wasn’t even going to bother to take the time to correct her. She only said shit like that to get under his skin. As he walked out of his office, his phone buzzed to let him know he had a text. He pulled it out and smiled when he saw it was from you. This really is too much.

He chuckled as he stepped onto the elevator. You’re welcome, he sent back.

Thank you, Clint.

He could almost feel your eyeroll through the screen. A glance at the time told him that you were already on your way to the venue. He didn’t like that you were going to have to mingle on your own for a bit, but he certainly wasn’t going to make you wait for him before you went in. He typed out a quick text letting you know he had gotten caught up and not to wait for him.

Your one letter response didn’t do much to convince him you would be fine until he got there. Rather than relaying all his fears to you, he slid his phone back into his pocket. He tapped his fingers on his thighs in an effort to keep from pulling it back out. This was fine. You’d be fine. You were too smart to say something you shouldn’t just because he wasn’t around. He’d also seen you shoot down more than one asshole that came on too strong so he knew you could take care of yourself.

It was almost forty-five minutes later before he arrived and a good half hour since Scott had let him know you’d been dropped off safely. Damn it. He straightened his jacket after he climbed out of the back then hurried up the stairs. Once he was inside, his eyes immediately scanned the crowd searching for you. It didn’t take long for his attention to be caught by the vibrant blue of your dress.

His heart sped and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. You were talking to some people he vaguely recognized, your head tilted back as you laughed. God, you looked amazing. He ran his eyes over you again, taking in every inch of exposed skin. The jewels he’d bought you sparkled in the light but they didn’t even come close to holding his attention the way that you did.

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip as he took the opportunity to just watch you for another moment or two.

“I see you’ve spotted her as well,” came a voice from beside him, interrupting him from his litany of impure thoughts.

He glanced over to find Tony Stark standing beside him, offering him a glass of something. Clint took it and turned back to his previous view. He made a sound of agreement but didn’t offer anything more where you were concerned. He sipped at his drink, enjoying the burn that distracted him from some of his more scandalous lines of thought.

“I don’t think I’ve seen her around before and I certainly would have made note of her,” Tony continued.

Clint clenched his teeth together briefly. He darted his gaze quickly to the man beside him before focusing on you once more. “What about Pepper?”

Tony shrugged. “What about her? Just because we’re engaged doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can still look and appreciate you know. And that one is stunning.”

Clint placed his now empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and fixed his coat once more. “That she is. She’s also mine.” He headed in your direction without registering Tony’s reaction to his announcement.

When he reached you, he placed one hand on your hip and pulled you against his side. You were even more beautiful up close. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You are breathtaking, Y/N.”

You glanced over at him, a radiant smile on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Barton.”

#clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton sugar daddy #sugar daddy au #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye x you #series #the light in my darkness #avengers fanfiction #clint barton fanfiction

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kinkymagnus · 5 years

Note

Do you have any headcanons about Magnus crossdressing? (Although I hate this term because clothes don't have a gender)

LET MAGNUS BANE WEAR A SKIRT.

and a dress. and lacy lingerie. and pretty “traditionally feminine” things.

he already does have a more traditionally feminine style sometimes–particularly season one, with the open and silky flowy colorful shirts. and his makeup. and it suits him.

but seeing him properly in like fishnets or a dress… ldfkgjkgfdhj

(also, i totally get you on clothes not having a gender. i mean, i’m a trans dude but i do like skirts/dresses sometimes? which can have some. self-esteem issues. but like. my point being a guy can like skirts/dresses and all that and not be less manly. and skirts/dresses/makeup don’t have to be “a girl thing”.)

but REALLY magnus in traditionally feminine clothing would be so good. i would pay to see magnus in a skirt, okay?

(not to mention the part of me that hardcore likes trans or nonbinary magnus is screaming at the idea of nonbinary!magnus in a skirt, ok.)

but ok okok ok ok oko kok oko kok spECIFICALLY. you asked for headcanons. so let’s do that. ok

magnus “crossdressing” headcanons under the cut:

magnus generally likes a more androgynous fashion: not super “masculine” (like, idk, dirty overalls or jeans or whatever is considered “manly”, or like even plain but nice/sharp suits and stuff) but definitely not super “feminine” either (like dresses). he tends to go for the happy middle ground. HOWEVER

that doesn’t mean magnus doesn’t like either/or. and honestly, tho he might not admit it easily, he prefers some more feminine clothing.

dresses are super flowy and nice, and he’s got great legs so

also because i project myself onto characters i like and relate to: for magnus, how the fabric feels is one of the most important parts of an item of clothing.

it doesn’t matter how nice the dress is, if it doesn’t feel good against his skin or at the very least feels comfortable, he won’t wear it.

and that kind of applies vice versa–while he has standards as to what he’ll wear in public, he 100 percent has some dresses/skirts/shirts/robes/whatever that are kind of frumpy or just look okay but are made of the SOFTEST fabric, with just the right amount of like, heft to it, and feel so nice against his skin.

anYWAY. magnus likes all sorts of dresses (i know i keep going back to dresses and that’s not all crossdressing is but look i love dresses despite being a dude so i’m gonna project ok?) but like. there’s different Moods. there’s “this is a nice dress and i feel Powerful in it” and “this is a fancy as fuck dress, look at it, it’s a ballgown, it’s heavy and swooshy, i can spin” there’s “this is light and breezy on the bits, feels nice, comfy” and “this is like a cosplay dress, i look bomb as fuck even tho i can’t wear it forever because it’s heavy and complicated” and “this is nice, i just feel a little more feminine today and it it looks good on me but it’s not uncomfortable”

magnus looks good in red and gold as well as blue and purple ok

magnus in a skirt. magnuS IN A SKIRT. androgynous fashion is great. magnus in a more masculine but kinda open shirt, maybe even a button up, and a simple black skirt (not tiny but not long either), maybe fishnets because fishnets look so good and make you feel good wearing them ok and he looks SO GOOD. long legs mostly showing off, draped over the arm of a chair as he’s just like lounging sideways in it and alec is like HOLY SHIT YOU LOOK GOOD

magnus. in a crop top. not inherently feminine by any means but still. this could mean a more masculine one or a blatantly feminine one. either way he looks good.

piercings!!! earrings. sometimes simple and subtle ones like little black beads, other times more elaborate/obvious. hoop earrings, or dangly pretty ones. whatever goes with his outfit and his mood.

magnus in lacy underwear and lingerie will always be my jam okay

he looks so good with silky/lacy underwear ok

magnus casually defying gender roles is my life

i would think that over his centuries of living he’s like. gotten more and more bold as the years went by?

this next part works better if you fly with this ‘magnus is lowkey nonbinary’ headcanon but it works for not that too

actually fuck it this is trans nonbinary man magnus now.

(nonbinary man = someone who identifies more as masculine and a man, likes he/him pronouns and they/them pronouns, etc. but is also not quite a man and like, kinda in between gender wise? nonbinary but leaning masculine? possibly me, i’m still figuring it out. but anyway.)

(also i have a lot of feelings about magnus and they/them pronouns but for the purposes of this post i’ll stick with he/him)

he started off like. when he realized who he was and was like, transitioning and stuff. he dressed super masculine, trying to like, compensate, you know?

he felt guilty that he still likes some “girly” things because it’s like how do you know you’re really a man if you like girly things? are you faking it? (spoiler alert he’s not there’s nothing wrong with a trans man liking “feminine” things, nor a nonbinary person)

anyway eventually he got more comfortable with exploring a little–some “guyliner”, maybe plain or darker colored nail polish, kohl. subtle stuff at first

he got bolder with encouragement from his friends, with like, meeting other queer people and stuff–more colorful makeup, clothing, nicer stuff

he may or may not have went through a brief phase of going way over the top

actually come to think of it the standards for masculinity have changed a lot over the years there were times when masculine was huge frills and poofy sleeves, right?

idk how to fit that in there but it does, ok

anyway the point is magnus gets more and more comfortable with himself

and right now during canon era he’s more on “boldly expressing himself but still has tons of issues so maybe not completely or as openly as he’d like”

aka he wears makeup and jewelry and more feminine clothes but he tends to wear more “risky” things in private/with close friends only. (as well as not being super open about being nonbinary and/or trans. some other queer downworlders know, particularly baby ones who are like also trans/nb and magnus is more than happy to help with like, glamours and potions or a person to talk to and shit)

the first time catarina sees him in a dress lounging in his apartment looking fabulous she doesn’t bat an eye she’s just like “damn that’s good where’d you get it” and he lights up (she doesn’t fail to notice his shoulders relax a little) and starts talking about this fabulous little shop in france run by a friend of his

ragnor is probably the only person he’d ever openly and directly talked to about this, one night earlier on when he was rather drunk and he saw a skirt he really liked but he was afraid to get

ragnor bought it for him later

anyway

quick detour on they/them pronouns. magnus usually uses he/him because he likes those pronouns just as much and it’s just easier in so many ways but cat, ragnor, and some of his other close adopted family members often use they/them because they know magnus doesn’t hear it enough and he likes those pronouns too

alec finds out about him being nonbinary/enjoying they/them pronouns and magnus is a little worried because he knows alec is Gay but alec is like. so accepting and understanding. and even days where magnus feels more nebulous and less masculine alec is like “babe i love men yes but i love you MOST, on days were you’re a man and days when you’re not” because a) sexual attraction =/= love and b) alec loves magnus not his dick (although i have feelings about being trans + magical transitioning and believe it is fully possible magnus could potentially be pretty much biologically male with enough powerful magic ok)

anyway alec uses both he/him and they/them with magnus depending on what he’s comfortable with that day and magnus is so happy ok

BACK TO CROSSDRESSING (you’re right, that is a stupid term–especially since i’ve detoured into nonbinary man magnus because im dumb and now the “cross” part even MORE doesn’t work)

ok but once canon era is over and malec are happily married and immortal

magnus now has several friends (i mean he already had that but now one of them is gone–although we can easily say ragnor faked his death i mean–and he has a few new ones. like. simon is immortal so. just saying.) AND a loving husband who loves and supports him so much

who are there to support and encourage him

so magnus might get more and more open and possibly wear skirts and stuff even in public

and yeah he gets some assholes who are dicks about it but he also gets the occasional shy teenager complimenting him on his skirt or a grown woman being like “oh my god THE COLOR where did you GET THAT”

generally the downworld is pretty supportive

and if anyone’s a dick about it i mean

while magnus can defend himself

catarina, raphael, alec, or one of his many other supporters is probably gonna get there first

#magnus bane #malec #alec lightwood #shadowhunters #catarina loss #ragnor fell #nonbinary magnus #trans magnus #nb magnus

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supernatural-fanficuniverse · 6 years

Text

Heaven

Title: Heaven

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 3,228

Warnings: body issues, cussing

Summary: You were Jensen’s date to the 13th season premiere and are second guessing him finding you attractive anymore after seeing all of the perfect models on the red carpet. Just like he always saves the day, Jensen found a way to show you just how beautiful you truly are.

Request by @samanddeanmyheroes: The first song is by Kane Brown, called heaven. I would love to read something very fluffy, maybe Jensen or Jared x reader, but I'll leave that up to you. Maybe something like the reader is having self esteem issues, or is being bullied (or something along those lines) and everything from the song is Jensen or Jared trying to help cheer her up. (Like she thinks she's not worthy of him, and he says that nothing is better than her). Sorry if I'm being picky.

A/N: I really loved writing this one, and if you guys have a request, please send them in :)

“Should I go with the black one, or the red one?” Jensen asked you as he poked his head around the hotel closet’s door frame holding two ties. One a deep black matte and one a beautiful rich, satin red.

“Either one would work, but the red one matches my dress perfectly,” you said, as his beautiful features disappeared once again. You met Jensen when you were hired as a personal assistant to help the actors on the set of Supernatural, which just so happened to include Jensen. You had about 7 months of dating under your belt and tonight was the 13th season premiere. You had to dress super fancy and walk down the red carpet with him, which to put it mildly, gave you a shit ton of anxiety.

You were going to be walking down that paparazzi line where pictures would be taken and distributed for millions to see. Not to mention the fact that A-list celebrities and models were going to be there. What a better way to feel inferior? But on a serious note, what would Jensen think about you after this? Sure, you guys were dating, but he’s going to be around a lot of abso-fucking-lutely stunning women with perfect proportions, big butts, and big boobs; the whole nine yards. After seeing all of that, there is no way he is going to want to still be with you, or for that matter, even look at you with lust in his eyes. He would finally realize that he could be with someone that could offer so much more to him instead of having you tag along like the ugly step sister no one wants.

After all, you weren’t some famous super model, actress, or some Victoria Secret Angel. You were some nobody from the middle of nowhere. You had no right to walk along the red carpet, much less date someone the red carpeted event was solely for in the first place.

With all those thoughts and insecurities running through your mind, you were starting to question whether or not you should go or just stay at the hotel. Jensen could just walk in with Jared, Gen, Misha, and Vicki. You could just fake it and act like you were sick. It’s not like anyone would miss you not being there.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You looked towards the closet from where you were sitting on the end of your shared bed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” You inquired. Trying to act cool, as if Jensen hadn’t just startled the living shit out of you.

“I called your name like five times before you answered,” Jensen said as he paused and looked deep into your eyes. When you didn’t answer (because I mean what do you say? Oh, I’m sorry I was just sittin’ here thinking about all the hot ass women that you’d rather be with than me. No, that didn’t quite fit)

“Whats on your mind?” He asked as he moved into the bathroom, you trailing along behind him.

You studied his face in the mirror as he trimmed his beard (he was only able to grow it out while he was on hiatus from filming and you thought he looked so sexy with it.) “I’m just nervous is all,” you said with a sigh, trying to play it off, hiding your inner thoughts from him.

He turned to look at you, his hands resting on your shoulders comfortably. “It will all be fine, I promise. All we really have to do is walk down the carpet, after that we could leave if you want? It’s not like I wasn’t there filming it, I know what’s going to happen.” He looked at you with such concern in his eyes and it was honestly so touching, but when you thought about him looking into someone else’s eyes, or should you say some sexy model from the red carpet’s eyes, you felt like you could throw up.

“I’ll be okay, I guess,” You lied with a closed lip smile that only went halfway up to your eyes. “I better go get dressed now.” You stated as you started walking out of the bathroom. You had done your hair and makeup earlier with Gen and her stylist and now all you had to do was put on your dress, shoes, and jewelry. You walked into the expansive closet and quickly spotted the beautiful dress. It really was a gorgeous dress, you just had your doubts about how gorgeous it would look on you. It was a deep crimson color and had a sparkly bodice. The bottom hem fell to the ground, but it had a slit in it to allow a slight peek of your legs through the material.

You carefully took off the t-shirt and cotton shorts you wear wearing and unzipped the dress. You slid into it and made sure you didn’t mess up your hair in the process. The itchy material added to your feeling of unease as you stepped out of the closest into the open part of the hotel room. Jensen was sitting on the bed, hunched over tying his black dress shoes.

“Will you zip my dress up for me please?” You asked standing in front of him. He looked up and when he saw you his lips formed a perfect ‘O’ and he let out a low wolf whistle. “Hot damnnnnn! I have a beautiful girlfriend,” Jensen said loud enough for the whole hall to hear, a shade of red similar to the color of your dress settling itself onto your cheeks. “I don’t look that good,” you said, trying to counter his statement. He circled around you and you felt his fingers bush over your exposed neck and shoulder as he swept your hair to one side. You felt his hot breath flutter over your neck and collarbone as he whispered in your ear sending shivers up your spine. “Oh, but you do. Don’t make me show you tonight,” Jensen whispered, you didn't have to look at him to know that a devilish grin was playing on his face. “I’m just worried that I won’t look as good as some of those other girls on the red carpet. It’s LA for goodness sake, everyone here is a goddess in comparison to me,” you expressed to Jensen as you felt his warm hands zipping your dress up. He walked around to look you in the eyes, and he cupped both of your cheeks into his soft hands. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. To me, you’re the most beautiful girl that has ever walked God’s green earth. I couldn’t give two fucks about any other girl unless their name is Y/N Y/L/N and look like you.” Your cheeks turned as red as a tomato as he tilted his head and leaned in, pressing his lips to yours with a passionate firmness that made your heart flutter with lust and love. You both had decided in the days beforehand that Jensen was going to drive you and himself to the premier. You could have had Clif drive you both, but you felt more comfortable in your own car, plus you could leave when you wanted to and didn’t have to wait on Jared and Gen to be ready to leave, so that was a plus.

Once you had put on your jewelry and grabbed your clutch and your cell phone, you and Jensen headed out of the hotel door.

You felt Jensen's reassuring hand on the small of your back as you walked down the hall, studying the plush red velvet carpet beneath your feet. It was an extremely nice hotel, so nice that if it wasn’t for Jensen’s paycheck you probably would have never gotten the chance to stay here. Jensen’s words had only given you a little bit of reassurance. You were still extremely worried, and you just couldn’t help but think that you were going to look horrible and the whole world was going to see it. You didn’t have the perfect waist line, huge boobs, or impossibly long lean legs. You were the exact opposite. You weren’t nearly as skinny as some of the girls you had seen.

All too soon you had made it to the lobby and out of the glass double doors with golden gilded handles and ornate knobs (seriously you couldn’t believe how utterly fancy this place was). Jensen asked the valet for his car as you spaced out, thoughts compiling in your head at the speed of light.

You saw the sleek black car pull around the covered circle of the front of the hotel, silently thanking Jensen for having such good, clean taste in cars. He wasn’t one of those celebrities who liked to flex and have over the top attention grabbing cars, neither was Jared or Misha for that matter. You were glad you had people in your life that helped you stay grounded and humble.

Jensen being the gentleman he was removed his hand from the small of your back to open your door for you, immediately missing the warmth and reassurance of touching Jensen, you got into the passenger seat of his car.

He got into the driver seat and took off after putting on his seat-belt. The event was only 13 minutes away, so it wasn’t a very long drive. It was silent the whole way, but it was the comfortable kind. Little did Jensen know, but you had butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach and you literally felt like you were 30 seconds from a panic attack, but you were hiding it well, thank God.

All too soon you saw the valet section where celebrities attending the event enter the red carpet. You literally felt like you were going to have a heart attack, your heart was beating so fast in your chest you thought it would explode any second. You saw the intense flashes already pointed towards Jensen’s car, the paparazzi eager to catch of glimpse of Jensen’s date. They were going to be very underwhelmed after they saw you.

Jensen turned to look at you, and he didn’t look like he was in a hurry to get out. We were the first to show up after all.

“Are you ready to do this?” Jensen asked concern laced in his rich, deep voice.

You swallowed nervously and shook your head ‘no’ so slightly that it was almost not perceivable. But Jensen noticed alright.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” He asked as his hands reached for yours.

“I just don’t want the whole world to hate me. You know yourself just how mean people can be when you live in the limelight. What if all those paparazzi for all those high end magazines think you should be with someone of a higher social status than me. I’m just a regular person, I’m not some esteemed model or well known actress.” You let all your emotions out in a vomit of words. You were just too anxious to try and hold them all in any longer.

Jensen looked like he was deep in thought before turning to look you in the eyes.

“Y/A, you are the most absolutely stunning woman I have ever seen. I could care less what magazines or the public thinks. My opinion is what matters when it comes to who I date and I think you’re more amazing than the worlds most famous actress or model. I’ll make you a deal, you and your beautiful self walk into the premiere with your head held high like the confident woman you deserve to be and then we can sneak out and leave. If my words won’t work, I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

You had to be honest with yourself, hearing that from Jensen was a major confidence booster. So what if you weren’t like them, but Jensen wanted you, not them and that’s what mattered. You weren’t 100% confident and you were still nervous, but his little speech definitely helped to take the edge off of your worries. You also loved the idea of ditching the premiere and spending the night just you and him.

“Deal, but only if we can get cheeseburgers afterwards,” you said with a smirk.

“Now that’s my girl,” Jensen said smiling proudly as if he had won an award. “Let’s go tackle this paparazzi and we’re out of here my love.”

You nodded to him as you gathered all the strength you could muster as you watched Jensen round the front of the car over to open your door. The cameras were already going off and the amount of light they produced was almost blinding even from inside the car.

Jensen opened the door and it was truly now or never. You plastered on your biggest smile and tried to consciously hold your head a little higher than normal.

You slowly made your way down the line. You glanced over to Jensen and the next thing you knew, his lips were on your cheek. The entire paparazzi sounded in a mix of “awes” and it seemed as if 30 new cameras had magically appeared. You were blushing so hard you could only assume your face was as red as your dress.

Before you knew it you were out of the line, maybe it actually wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought. Jensen grabbed your hand and turned you to face him.

“You did so amazing, are you ready to get out of here?”

“I’ve never been more ready in my entire life,” you said with a laugh, eliciting one from Jensen as well as he led you around the back way towards the car. You once again silently thanked Jensen for not having a taste in flashy cars, his car allowed you both to slip out without anyone really noticing.

You were finally back on the road, the windows were down and the radio was on. The warm night air mixed with Jensen glancing over at you ever 30 seconds with a goofy grin on his face was just what you needed. You saw some clouds start forming and as you guys kept driving rain started, and it was pouring hard. You burst into hysterical laughter as you started getting wet, frantically trying to roll up with windows and laughing as Jensen pulled over to the side of the road trying to close the sun roof.

By the time everything was closed you were both soaking wet and the rain was coming down so hard that you could barely see three feet in front of you. You were going to be there for a while.

“I guess worse things could have happened,”Jensen said with a laugh, “besides I love getting stuck in the car with you my love.”

You looked into his green eyes that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight as he continued.

“Remember what I had wanted to show you earlier?” he asked.

You shook your head as he pulled out his phone, connecting it to the aux cord hooked into the cars radio.

“Well, I have a song I wanted to show you because it perfectly describes my feelings for you Y/N.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything as you heard a melody start.

This is perfect Come kiss me one more time I couldn't dream this up Even if I tried You and me in this moment Feels like magic only I'm right where I wanna be

As you heard the lyrics you started tearing up, it was so true and coupled with Jensen’s kind and earnest expression you couldn’t help but get emotional.

Everybody's talking about heaven like they just can't wait to go Saying how it's gonna be so good, so beautiful Lying next to you, in this bed with you, I ain't convinced 'Cause, I don't know how, I don't know how heaven, heaven Could be better than this

You loved this man more than words could even describe. You moved yourself over until he was holding you in his arms. He was mouthing the words to the songs as he stared into your eyes. You had no choice, but to believe the words spilling out of the speakers. He was so genuine with it, you felt his emotions behind each word.

I swear you're an angel Sent to this world What did I do right to deserve you, girl? I could stay here forever I'd be fine if we never had to even leave this room

I swear, this is perfect Come kiss me one more time

As the song finished Jensen leaned in and kissed you so passionately before he spoke.

“If there was one thing I’d want you to remember it would be that song. You’re so perfect to me. You’re literally all I have ever wanted so it hurts me to see you think so little of yourself. You’re my entire world and I’m going to make it my personal goal that you never forget how much I love you. Some days I sit back and think just what I did to deserve you. I have absolutely no idea what you saw in me, but I am so grateful you chose me to be your boyfriend. I love you Y/N.”

The tears that had been welling in your eyes were falling.

“I love you too Jensen,” you said through your tears as he pulled you in and held you tight in his arms, almost as a reminder that he will always be there for you no matter what.

“How about we go eat some cheeseburgers now? You definitely look like you could use right about now,” Jensen said with a laugh.

“Sure, I’d love to get cheeseburgers soaking wet at 10 at night,” you replied laughing just as much as he was.

Maybe you didn’t have to be perfect after all, maybe you just had to be yourself all along.

Taglist: @clarewinchester @samanddeanmyheroes @heyitscam99 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#dean winchester #reader insert #sam and dean #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles x reader #13th season

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amiafairyprincessyet · 6 years

Note

I absolutely love your blog! Your outfits are so well put together, and the whole thing has a really nice positive aesthetic. I'm curious though, what got you into fashion? And how did you learn to curate your look?

Thank you so much! And I’m afraid my answer for this stuff is always a bit useless, because I’ve been obsessed with fashion since I was old enough to be obsessed with stuff in general. A lot of the stuff that I do when putting an outfit together is completely instinctual; I just know what works and what doesn’t. I can tell you that these shoes won’t work with that dress, but I can’t tell you why. (I have the same problem with grammar and writing conventions, since I grew up reading so much that I never consciously learned the rules.)

I can give you a few tips on how to curate a wardrobe/aesthetic, but they’re pretty general. But also very long, as it turns out, so let’s continue this under the cut.

The first thing is just figuring out what you like and what you’re going for. I recommend using something like Pinterest and just pinning stuff every time you see something you like. It can be all kinds of things–runway models, someone’s selfie, a photo of a landscape, etc. After you’ve been doing this for a while, scroll through the board and think about recurring patterns. What are some things you keep seeing over and over again? Are there any colors that are present in most of the pictures you’ve pinned? Looking at that, you can figure out some stuff that you really want to incorporate into your aesthetic. Let’s use me as an example; looking at my Pinterest, I’m noticing some patterns. Right now, I seem to be into:

earth tones and neutrals, esp. dark green and off-white

stripes

athleisure

draped, loose stuff

fun details, like jewelry and embroidery

(My Pinterest actually tends to lag a little behind what I’m really into, because now that I’m a High Level Fashion™ I kinda do things in the reverse order of what I’m advocating here. So I’m actually into more tailored, somewhat professional stuff now. But this is a good way to start out.)

So I’ve got that. Now, I might think about my closet–what stuff do I already have? I definitely have some draped/loose stuff, and plenty of earth tones and neutrals. I also own a lot of jewelry, but I don’t wear most of it. So if I want to move closer to this aesthetic I seem to like, what do I need? I need striped stuff–I don’t have much–and athleisure clothing. I also might want to look for some embroidered stuff, and I should sort through my jewelry and get rid of the stuff I don’t wear.

With that in mind, I can go shopping. I find that having a list like this really helps keep me from a) spending too much, and b) buying random crap that doesn’t actually work in my wardrobe. If I know that I’m looking for stripes, athleisure, and embroidered stuff with an emphasis on earth tones, neutrals, and loose-fitting things, that rules out a ton of clothing! I can also go through stuff I don’t wear very often and see if any of it fits what I’m into, and maybe that clothing will get a second chance instead of getting donated.

(I do also recommend getting rid of as much clothing as possible, basically, because having stuff in your closet that you don’t actually wear much can make it harder to see the stuff you do like and wear. But I don’t mean “oh you should own thirty articles of clothing and No More” since I am absolutely a cluttered maximalist. If minimalism works for you, cool, but I don’t recommend it as a hard-and-fast rule. I just recommend getting rid of excess crap.)

Now, let’s say I’ve bought some new stuff, and pulled some old stuff out of the depths of my closet. Combined with the stuff that survived my hypothetical closet clean-out, I have a pretty decent wardrobe set up. It’s not totally complete yet, but I can definitely make enough outfits for most Life Stuff I have to do. Next, I have to turn it into outfits!

(A note on storing clothes–I’m boring and practical and do it by function. So shirts are together, dresses are together, etc. But I’ve found that, when I’m in situations where my closet ends up jumbled, I come up with some cool outfits because I see two things near each other and realize they could go well together.)

When I’m getting dressed in the morning (or picking my outfit out the night before, if I’ve got my shit together) I ask myself three things:

What’s the weather going to be like?

What am I going to be doing?

What do I want to wear?

These questions all interact with each other. For example, if I want to wear a crop top but it’s gonna be twenty degrees Fahrenheit all day, I’m shit outta luck. But what if it’s going to be forty degrees, and I want to wear a light, summery dress? I can make that work, with clever layering. Unless! What if I’m going to be outside a lot, catching buses and maybe walking through town? Then I might want to wear pants; a lightweight dress in cold weather only really works if you’re gonna be mostly indoors, no matter how well you layer.

Let’s use today as an example. Right now I’m typing this partially dressed–I didn’t have work this morning, and I don’t have to leave for class until 12:50 pm. (I should be doing homework in this time, but whatever.) So, what’s the weather going to be like? It’s going to be in the low seventies, overcast, with a low chance of rain later. What am I going to be doing? I’m going to class, and then I have work in the evening. I also rinsed my hair this morning, and the dye is fresh enough that it’s leaking/rubbing off on things a little still. Since it’s wet, I want to leave it down to air dry. That means I can’t wear anything too light-colored on top, since my hair will touch it and stain it; if it was dry, and I put it up, I could wear a lighter shirt. (It comes out with some stain remover spray and a wash in cold water, usually, but it’s not a risk I enjoy taking.) With both school and work, I want to dress a little nicer/more professionally. And, because of work, I have to wear a brightly colored top. What do I want to wear? Well, luckily enough, I want to wear a brightly colored top that I bought recently and haven’t had a chance to wear yet. And it’s orangey-pink, so once my hair’s air dried a bit more, the stains shouldn’t show.

This top works with the weather (although I may need a light jacket) and what I have to do today. Now, what should I wear with it? My black pleated skirt would be cute, but I just wore it yesterday. It doesn’t need to be washed, since it didn’t actually touch my skin and I didn’t do anything strenuous, but I don’t want to wear it two outfits in a row. My dad just made a trip up to drop off some things I forgot at home, including some bottoms. But none of those work; they clash with the top, aren’t right with the weather, or would just look a bit weird. Maybe a pair of jeans? It’s going to be cool enough that I can do that without overheating. I think my mom jeans would look too ‘80s-in-a-bad-way with the shirt, but my skinny jeans would look nice! And I can wear a random pair of compression stockings under them.

Now, with my skinny jeans, I have to wear boots. Which ones? Well, I also want to wear my newish watch, which will kinda match the shirt. It has a brown band. My brown boots will look nice with that, although I’ll need to remember to wear socks on top of my compression stockings, since those boots are a tad large. The boots are leather, and I’ve never bothered to seal them, so I try not to wear them when it’s going to rain. The chance is low enough, though, that I’m not worried about it. But wait! The brown boots have brass buttons, and the watch has silver parts. Oh no, not mixed metals! Well, I’ll have to make it obvious that it’s intentional–I’ll wear the chevron earrings that have a few different metals in them*, and I’ll mix it up with my other earrings too. I might wear a necklace, if I can find one that I think works.

None of my jackets that I have with me at college work perfectly with the outfit, so I’ll just grab my olive green one with the daisies embroidered on it. It’ll look fine, and I won’t include it in my photos. With my makeup, I’ll probably do some brown, and I might mix some metallic stuff there as well. I’ll most likely go for a darker lipstick, since bright ones would clash with my shirt.

So yeah, that’s my thought process picking out my outfit today–I started a lot of it last night, because I was thinking this was a day where I could finally wear that new shirt. It looks like a lot written out like this, but I go through it pretty quickly in real life.

I hope that helps!

*this is why I wear that pair so often lmao

#international-howk-of-mystery #ask #fashion advice I guess #blog business

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moodring89 · 7 years

Text

CH.01 Down the Rabbit Hole

Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader / Side Yoonseok Chapter Rated: PG-13 (Future rating will change to M) Genre: Fantasy, Hybrid AU (Prince Bunkook. Sue me.), Royal AU, Cinderella / Labyrinth feels Summary: Yoongi's sister buys two tickets to the Autumn ball held at the Meadows, a notorious city known for its hybrid inhabitants, where she hopes to meet a certain bunny princeling. Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04

“I’m sorry, what –?”

Yoongi held up a piece of mail, “Autumn Ball to be held at the Meadows in celebration of Prince Jeon Jeongguk’s Coming of Age?” The envelope was ripped at the top from where he’d opened it, being all sorts of casual about incriminating himself. “There’s no way in hell that our father is going to allow you to attend. You know this and yet you spent money on a ticket.”

“On two tickets,” she said, as she snatched the envelope from his fingers. “And why not?”

He didn’t know how to not sound like a prejudiced asshole, but he went for it anyway. “Because there are hybrids living in the Meadows and there’s still a ton o’ shit that we don’t know about them yet.”

“This is the first social gathering where hybrids and humans will be allowed to mingle and co-exist with one another, and like, in a party setting, which is just a bonus. It’s fascinating. No – it’s historic and you can bet your uptight, manhwa loving ass that I’d love to be there.” The blonde lowered his eyes at her, pouting resolutely when she continued, “I spoke with our father and you know what he said? ‘Get one for your brother, too.’”

He sighed, passively, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that. I was just rather hoping he’d do that thing where he beats on his chest and roars his short response of ‘fuck’ and ‘no’ from atop the highest mountain.”

She patted his shoulder with mock sincerity, “There, there, take the loss as it comes, swiftly and sweetly. Do you even own a proper suit and tie?”

“I have about as many suits as you do ball gowns.”

“So, zero then? ‘Kay, sounds good. We’re real ahead of this thing.”

Yoongi grabbed for his car keys, wanting to get it over with. “Let’s hit the stores now, before I decide to go in my pajamas. You know that I would, too.” When it comes to his sister, Yoongi tended to cave in, perhaps too easily. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, and most of the time – even things she could do living without, but he decided that she didn’t have to, like a new phone, or a bag.

They’d split up once they were inside the store, headed in two completely separate directions. She hadn’t expected half the town to be at this particular dress shop. Royal ball doesn’t exactly scream, ‘Let’s go to the local Mom-and-Pop boutique.’

The obnoxious text tone of Naruto’s catchphrase, ‘Believe it’ that she’d associated with Yoongi went off. She stared down at her phone.

Yoonji Unnie --------------------- It’s a fucking sausage fest here. 3:54pm

To: Yoonji Unnie --------------------- Funny, since it’s a clam-fam reunion over here, too. Any hopes of looking original have successfully gone out the window. 3:54pm

Yoonji Unnie --------------------- Unless we go with my pajama idea? 3:54pm

To: Yoonji Unnie --------------------- I’m not meeting the Prince of the Meadows in a camisole. 3:55pm

Yoonji Unnie --------------------- Gross. See you in the parking lot. 3:57pm

Yoongi was already inside the car, a plastic bag thrown carelessly into the backseat. She shut her door with a huff, somewhat affronted by it. “You were able to find a suit? I thought it was Wang city, far too many hand-to-gland casualities for you to possibly stay long enough to find something suitable.”

“Yeah, unlike you, I don’t care if I’m wearing the same shit as someone else, especially a fucking suit.” He started up the car and turned onto the main road, driving around idly, until they decided on their next stop. “Again, I would have gone in my striped pajamas without a single fuck to be spared. I like keeping my fucks to myself. However, something tells me that there is a dress code we have to adhere to...”

“Of course there is.”

Yoongi was scowling, as he tended to do so very naturally. “I would really hate to piss off the woodland creatures with our subpar fashion choices, so start calling out shops, and we’ll swing by to see if it’s packed.”

“Hybrids are people, not creatures,” she said, turning somewhat dejectedly to stare out the window. “Why do I have to remind you? You’re the intelligent one and yet you say the most asinine things.”

“What are you hoping to achieve by seeing the Prince? He will not favor you, as you do him.” It was such a sad anomaly, something that shouldn’t have happened, but it did, and it was too late. His sister had fallen in love through mere stories of the bunny princeling. What if the tales weren’t true? Don’t meet your heroes, wasn’t that the saying? The treaty between hybrids and humans had practically been forced, guns aimed at each other’s heads in a stalemate between two stubborn kings. It turned out that the two species needed to sustain each other, whether it was for the oil, the crops, or other various cargos: The union was not wanted, but it was necessary.

The thought that their father had even agreed to put them in some slight form of potential danger was preposterous to him. Although, it was possible that his darling sister was lying to him, right to his own fucking face. At least he could later credit himself for not being entirely blindsided by it. No one jukes Min Yoongi.

“I don’t even expect to be allowed to speak with the Prince, so what does it matter?” They were stopped at a light. For a long moment, the silence played with the tension, thus swallowing the siblings up whole. She sighed, finding it be unbearable, “I only wish to look upon him, to take glimpse of his true nature for myself, instead by word of mouth.”

“Alright, enough. You can stop with the poetic shit. I get it…” Yoongi felt frustrated, stopping in front of a shopping mall. It didn’t appear to be as busy as all the other stores they had passed along the way, probably due to an even lower standard in quality. He surrendered his card as a form of an apology, which she graciously accepted. “Don’t make it long.”

She’d made it especially fucking long.

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The tickets were a simple white cotton paper with speckled gold and elegant cursive. She half-mourned over the fact that she’d have to hand it over at the castle gates in order to get in. The girl kept the envelope, tucking it away inside the top drawer of her vanity. Tonight she would finally get to meet the Prince. After hearing so many stories of his time on the battlefield, of the scar which adorned his face along his cheek, how he’d spared a human General’s life.

Prince Jeongguk was an advocate for equality, a symbol of peace, and hope. He’d visited the Isles of Lunar and fed the sun to the poor. He did not leave, until all were healthy, and full. She’d heard that he’d brought in environmental scientists to study the moon enriched lands and that they’d found ways to sustain and harvest crops. That was how he’d inherited the nickname, ‘Lunar Prince’.

There were no photographs allowed to be taken of the Prince. However, the news articles were free to state as many details as they so desired. She’d tried to envision what he would look like given the various descriptions, tall and broad it had read, only one or two inches away from standing at six foot tall. Two velveteen rabbit ears sat atop a silky crown of raven black hair, pure white in color, and responsive to the change in his mood. One columnist in particular went on and on about the Prince’s dark eyes, how large, and doe-like they had appeared, despite their depth, and warmth. She’d rather enjoyed that bit.

For tonight, she’d wanted to dress in tears of silk and netted fabrics. The Meadows was said to be the pinnacle of nature itself, the homeland of the fae, and hybrid kind. Magic would exist in her world for only one night, but that was already more than what she could ever hope for. Her dress was a warm pigment of peach and was scattered with blossoms. Her hair was pinned up, save for a wavy strand here and there. Her skin would be devoid of any eye-catching jewelry and her makeup would be natural.

She would not pretend as though she belonged, because she didn’t. Yoongi stood in the doorway, wearing his suit more convincingly than she did her dress. Her brother should be more confident. Perhaps after tonight, he would be.

“I look ridiculous.”

She placed the tickets inside her clutch, “Oh, I’m very certain that we both look amazing. The word spiffy is still a thing and we are the definition.”

“Yeah, you should probably refrain from using that as a compliment.”

She laughed at his obvious discomfort, “I’ll be sure to use it at least three times tonight just to spite you.”

“Please do,” Yoongi said, twirling his keys in his hand impatiently. “Make sure to use it on your prince. He’ll then know for sure that you’re an ancient.”

“You wound me, brother.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, wondering if he’d ever stop rolling them for the duration of the evening. The Meadows was almost an hour by car. They made the most of it by listening to whatever music Yoongi decided to put on, rapping along to old CDs that she’d been forced to listen to time and time again, and for as long as she could remember. His voice was perfect for it, which was why she encouraged him to continue making music, even if their father disapproved of it.

He’d threatened Yoongi with a florist position. It could be done rather easily, since the shop was run by family. Luckily, their father was currently away on business and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. If he’d been home tonight, she had no idea as to what would have happened. A huge argument, wasted money, and a solitude evening listening to the muddled sounds of Yoongi’s piano.

The Meadows was no longer a guarded territory and for the first time ever, humans were being granted free passage. The new lands held such a dark enchantment, a beauty that was so drastically different from what they’ve ever known that they’d spent the rest of the drive in a state of silent enrapt. They followed the cars in front of them to the castle, which was at the heart of the city. It was a citadel surrounded by forest and closed in by tall gates. Parking was easy enough, as Yoongi handed over his keys to the valet.

“You good? Do you need me to piggyback you?” Yoongi asked, watching as his sister hesitated, stumbling more so than walking. It was a sign that her nerves were getting the best of her. “We didn’t come all this way, dressed up like assholes for nothing, princess. Remember why you wanted to come here. To partake in a historic event, wasn’t it?” It seemed to be working, when he heard her laugh. “Plus, I’m all famished and in dire need of eating sweets off of doilies, or whatever the fuck they serve royals. Let’s at least get some food in our systems.”

She caught his arm, holding onto him for her own stability, “What if I lose my mind in there?”

“Then I’ll find it for you.”

Would it really be that simple?

#noonanet #jeongguk x reader #bts fics #jungkook x reader #hybrid au #fantasy au #modern royalty au #yoonseok

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stoleyourcarbon · 7 years

Note

1, 4, 15, 18, 26, 34, 47

1. Femme or butch? Depends a lot on my mood tbh. I might wear makeup and dresses one day. i might go bareface and wear a button down with jeans/sweats/leggings

4. Describe your style I definitely like to wear loose/comfy tops a lot, and tons of leggings and sports bras. I would say my style is pretty tame with a few more bold outfits. Comfort is the biggest priority for me. I usually wear light/subtle makeup with a dash of purple since it brings out my eyes. I don’t really wear jewelry either since im sensitive to that sorta thing.

15. Describe your dream wedding Small and simple. Probably either at a botanical garden or a lake. I’d wanna save as much money as possible and id want to include my close friends and family in the ceremony.

18. Favorite lesbian movie? Either The Hours or Mulholland Drive

26. Are you more of a cat person or a dog person? I love my cats and dog both very much but at my core I’m definitely a dog person

34. Ever fallen for your best-friend? yeah that shit was the worst

47. Are you crushing on anyone at the moment (celebrity or otherwise)? Not at the moment but I’m sure I’ll fill that void soon enough

#thanks!#adhdsaysquirrel

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dancingalone21 · 7 years

Text

That’s My Girl

Summary: Jensen breaks your plans for the evening but the sly bastard makes it up to you.

Prompt: “That’s not a good enough reason to get married.”

Characters: moviestar!Jensen x Reader

Requested: @arryn-nyx

"I can't believe you're bailing on me!"

"I promise I'll make it up to you, Y/N!" Of course Jensen subjects you to his dazzling signature smile, the one that reminds you of kittens and rainbows and all of that corny shit.

He drags you in for an insanely tight hug as if that will make your moodiness disappear. Well, the joke's on you because it's starting to work. Damn his perfect physique. How are you supposed to stay pissed when an attractive man who smells delicious is touching you?

You gather up enough super strength to shake those distracting thoughts away. There's no way in hell that you're letting him off the hook this time. Nice try, buddy.

But Jensen's only wearing a thin, white t-shirt, allowing you to feel every one of his god damn muscles. Fuck. The man knows what he's doing, his hotness has gotten him out of more than you'd like to admit. To be fair, it definitely works both ways. All you have to do is bite your bottom lip and he's fucking putty in your hands. Silly boy.

"Whatever, Ackles." You abruptly abandon the embrace, ignoring the pitiful pout on your best friend's full lips.

Tonight's festivities have annoyingly been put on hold, the plans you've both had for weeks are now fucking ruined. It was supposed to be just you and Jensen for the entire evening. No work, no bullshit, no drama. Nothing but a bottle of Jack, delicious homemade nachos and a long list of cheesy Matthew McConaughey rom coms. Sigh.

"My publicist wrangled me an invite last minute to the CMT Music Awards. So I need to make an appearance on the red carpet for a shit ton of interviews. You know my new movie is coming out soon, sweetheart. It's free publicity."

"But it's a country music awards show." You scrunch up your face adorably, automatically stealing Jensen's current thought. Lately that's all it takes for him to be completely enamored by you.

"Country music fans watch movies ya know. Especially ones with yours truly." Jensen cackles hoping you'll join in on his goofiness. You don't.

"It's your job. I get it." You sigh deeply, navigating your way down the staircase to where the home bar is located on the first floor. It's frustrating times like this, when you're grateful to have a plethora of alcohol at your disposal.

"I know the whole red carpet thing makes you nervous, otherwise I'd take you with me." Jensen stresses, refusing to just leave you be.

"Dude. Get out of my ass." You spin around, practically colliding into the green eyed man behind you.

"I don't want you to be mad at me, Y/N."

"Normally I wouldn't care but your schedule lately has been busy as fuck. We have to make plans to stay in and watch a movie for christ's sake."

"Trust me, I know. I don't like it anymore than you do. On the bright side, the movie's coming out in a couple of weeks so I'll soon have time off."

"I know, Jay." You defeatedly pour yourself a large drink, responding coldly to the wounded animal expression on his face.

"I ordered pizza. We can at least have dinner together!" Jensen shoots you a playful grin making you momentarily forget that you're aggravated. Again.

The doorbell suddenly chimes, snapping you out of the mesmerizing trance known as the Ackles charm. Saved by the fucking bell.

You weave around your intoxicating roommate, rolling your eyes at the noise of his boots hot on your trail. If you're gonna end up with a stalker, you suppose having a handsome one like Jensen is the way to go.

Expecting to see a pimple-faced delivery boy at the door, you quirk an brow as your eyes take in the sight before you. Jared Padalecki's here and he's holding a mother fucking pizza.

"What's up, kiddo!" Jared quickly pecks your cheek, barely slowing down as he strolls right on into the house. It's safe to say there's a huge scowl gracing your features as you stomp over to Jensen.

"Why is Jared here?" You whisper, grabbing a hold of his firm bicep.

"I invited him over for pizza. Is that bad?" Jensen cocks his head like a perplexed German Shepherd.

"I literally can't with you right now." You blow past him into the kitchen, automatically shoving a piece of pizza into your mouth. You may or may not be an emotional eater. And you may or may not being fucking emotional right now.

Jared directs a smirk at Jensen who's now inhaling a large slice himself, "Don't stuff yourself with too much pizza, Ackles. You wanna be ready and willing for your date tonight."

"I know, right! She's crazy hot." Your best friend replies mumbling with his mouth full.

"You're taking someone to the awards?" You ask nonchalantly, as if your stomach didn't just do a friggin somersault.

"Yeah my manager thinks it's better than me showing up solo. It's cool with me. She's sexy as hell. And funny too." Jensen obnoxiously wiggles his eyebrows in your direction, close to earning himself a punch in the gut.

"Seriously, man. She's gorgeous. If I were you, I'd propose tonight. Lock it down asap!" Jared throws his napkin down dramatically, as if that drives his point home. You're surrounded by dumb asses.

"That's not a good enough reason to get married, Padalecki. I need to test drive the car first before I buy it."

"He means sex." Jared stupidly informs you. Yeah no shit, dipstick.

"Who the fuck are you two idiots talking about?" You blurt out, freezing at the way the words stumbled out of your mouth. You didn't sound jealous, right?

Damn it.

"Jenna Moore. She plays a supporting role in my movie. She's new to the business, so it's her first major motion picture."

"She's talented...definitely has some nice assets." Jared cracks, mischievously rubbing his palms together.

"And that's my cue. Have fun gossiping, whores. I'm going to binge watch Schitt's Creek." Without a second glance, you steal one more piece of pizza and get the fuck out of there.

Is there a strong possibility that you're secretly harboring feelings for your best friend? Well duh. Anyone with half a brain can tell at this point, except for said best friend of course.

Whatever. You've been staring blankly at the TV screen for the past hour, trying to contemplate your wonderful life choices. Then a knock on your bedroom door breaks your concentration.

"Hey." Jensen pops his head in, appearing strangely nervous although you keep that information to yourself.

"I know you're mad at me. Hopefully I can make up for it."

"We shall see." You sass side eyeing him, pulling a quiet growl from his chest.

"Come on. Follow me." Your best friend waves you over towards the door but you refuse to budge.

"What?"

"Come on, Y/N. Pleaseee."

"For the love of all things holy, Ackles. This better be good." You groan theatrically, chucking your blanket onto the floor before lazily leaving the room.

Jensen's nervousness grows by the second as he leads you down the hall to a huge guest bedroom. He hesitates for a split second before swinging the door open and heading inside.

You see three pretty women, you'd guess probably in their 30s and they are all smiling brightly in your direction. Dafuq?!

"Y/N...this is Kelsey, Tina and Jen."

“Um...hi." You mutter with a strained smile. "What's happening right now, Jay?"

"Kelsey's gonna do your hair, Tina's doing your makeup and Jen will help you with your outfit." Jensen claps his hands loudly, looking beyond thrilled.

"....What."

"You're my date to the CMT's!"

"What the fuck...what about the stupid actress? Did she bail on you?" You cross your arms over your chest, making Jensen snicker loudly. Fantastic.

"No, babe. She was never my date. The studio wanted me to take Jenna but I said no. I want to take my favorite girl." He admits sheepishly, a light shade of pink covering his cheeks.

"And you thought springing it on me like this would be a good idea?"

"Yes...maybe...I don't know." Jensen stutters adorably, running his hands through his hair. Deciding you both need some privacy, he asks the three women to wait downstairs before pulling you over to the couch.

"I know you're not big on the celebrity thing, like all the attention that comes with being out in public with me. But I'm also a stubborn fucker and I want you to be on my arm tonight."

"I literally want to smack you." You whine, shoving him in the shoulder. He instantly shoves you back, making you both burst out laughing.

"I know. I figured if it was a last minute surprise...you wouldn't have time to get too nervous about it. Or get too pissed at me. So what do you say? Be my date?"

"I suppose..."

"Sweet!" Jensen jumps up, lifting you off of the the ground in a bone crushing hug.

"Lord help me." You groan smushing your face into his hard chest, realizing this could easily turn into a horrible idea.

"I'm gonna send the girls in and they can help you get ready. I even picked a dress for you!" Jensen's energy is annoyingly infectious, so you choose to just go along with this crazy idea.

Getting your hair and makeup professionally done is actually pretty fucking fun. You could totally get used to this kind of pampering. Although Jen won't let you see your dress until it's time to get changed and it's driving you mad.

You're silently praying that you'll like what Jensen handpicked for you. Finally after laying out your matching high heels and jewelry, she reveals what you've been waiting for.

Your mouth drops at the gorgeous, multi-colored gown with a hip high slit placed in front of you. That boy did fucking good. Real good. You're now starting to get weirdly excited for tonight, even if it ends up going bad at least you'll look awesome.

The girls take care of some finishing touches before wishing you well. Now it's just you and Jensen left in the house, it's nerve racking since he hasn't seen you yet.

You tell yourself to stop being a major pussy and head downstairs to where he's waiting for you. Seeing him in his dark maroon suit is giving your mind all sorts of naughty ideas.

"Holy shit, Y/N. You look incredible!" Jensen's practically drooling at the sight of you and you're pleasantly surprised at his reaction. Taking your hand, he twirls you around causing a giggle to escape your lips.

"So will you be my date?" Jensen wonders wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Um I think we already established that." You chuckle, gesturing down at your fancy attire.

"I mean like a real date. Like more than friends."

"Really..."

"Hell yeah. You're my best friend, Y/N. I can't see myself with anyone else. You're beautiful and hilarious and just...amazing." He takes advantage of your shocked state by crashing his lips into yours. You gotta give it to him, he's definitely turned this night around.

"You ready for our first date, gorgeous?"

"I'd rather pizza and beer but I suppose an award show will do." You tease hooking your arm with his.

"That's my girl." Jensen happily agrees with a smirk, leading the way.

#2.5 followers oneshot #moviestar!jensen #jared padalecki au #jared padalecki #supernatural #sam winchester #2.5 followers drabble #that's my girl #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles au #supernatural rpf #rpf jensen #jensen ackles rpf #dean winchester #jensen ackles fanfic #spn reader insert #supernatural au

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