Hiddles Court | The Hiddlesbum

if i ever misgender you or use slang (bro, man, gurl, dude) that makes you feel even slightly uncomfortable please tell me because your gender identity and comfort is more important than any word i may use to refer to you

This is so sweet 💜

First Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve has the best first date thanks to you. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Fluffy fluff, light pining, first date, first kiss, mentions of the holidays, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Sixth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Steve Rogers. Requested by the incredible @buckyownsmylife. You deserve only good things! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing Steve still wasn’t used to after the serum, it was that women wanted to date him. It was strange even after he was taken out of the ice that people actively sought out his company when they used to overlook him. Bucky no longer had to convince his dates to bring along another girl for him. And Natasha, of course, did her best to set him up with a few different women.

He relented when he realized she wasn’t going to stop.

She gave up when the third girl she set him up with didn’t work out.

“What was wrong with this one?” she asked.

“Nothing was wrong with her,” Steve told her truthfully. “She was just wrong for me.”

He wondered if he was doomed to be alone.

Until you asked him out.

A breathtaking new agent with a loving smile who could easily put men twice your size on their backs. He was inexplicably drawn to you and wouldn't be breaking any bylaws by dating you. He planned to ask you out, but you beat him to the punch one day after sparring.

"Would you want to grab dinner with me Saturday?"

"A date?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, a date," you said with a hopeful smile.

It felt good to have you smile at him that way.

"I'd love to," he smiled back.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at six o'clock. Dress warm, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled more, wondering what you had in mind.

He got his answer when you showed up at his apartment right on time.

“Oh, wow,” you whispered when he opened the door. He heard your heart rate speed up as you gazed at him. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “Sorry. I’m staring.”

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckled. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m staring, too.”

You looked at your feet with a small smile before you lifted your head again. “I don’t mind.”

The breathy tone in your voice had his heart racing, too. “We should probably get going, otherwise I’ll just stare at you all night,” he teased.

The other dates he had been on had initial awkwardness in the beginning, but he felt none of that when he held out his hand for you. Even through the fabric, he felt electricity crackle between the two of you. Like a natural fit.

“Now, I should warn you,” you began as he led you out of the apartment building. “I kind of deviated away a bit from the normal first date dinner."

“I’m sure whatever you have set up is going to be amazing,” he smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I wanted to make it something to remember.”

“If I were a better gentleman, I would’ve been the one to plan this.”

“You think I’d make you plan your first date since you’ve been unfrozen?” you asked incredulously as you began to walk again. “Never.”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly as you pulled him along the sidewalk. He didn’t have the heart to tell you this wasn’t his first date. Not when you looked so happy.

“Here it is!” you grinned.

A large horse and carriage stood by the curb with a coachman who tipped his hat. The red plush bench had a blanket for extra warmth and Steve noticed a small table with two drinks and a large box across from where they’d sit. He could smell the pizza from where he stood.

It was from his favorite restaurant.

“I thought we could have pizza and drinks while we looked at lights around the city. And there’s a bakery stop along the way so we can have dessert,” you explained as you approached the carriage. “I figured this would give us a chance to talk and see how beautiful our home looks when we’re not fighting to keep it safe.”

Steve didn’t get in right away as his eyes met yours, memorizing how beautiful you looked under the city lights. You held your breath as he stepped closer. He knew you put a lot of thought into this evening. That alone made him feel special.

"But if you hate it, I can-"

“This is incredible,” he said as you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? Because your silence made me a little nervous,” you giggled.

Steve held up a hand to stop the coachman from helping you in, wanting to do it himself. “I'm sorry. I’m told I can be a bit stoic,” he joked, settling into the carriage beside you once you got comfortable.

“Didn’t I tell you? This is a stoic free carriage,” you teased.

"If anyone can make me smile, it's you."

He hoped that didn't sound cheesy.

"I like making you smile," you said as the carriage began to move.

The two of you traded stories as you ate and rode through the city. The lights brought warmth to the night sky, but he found himself staring at you more than the scenery. By the time you finished eating the pizza and stopped for warm, freshly baked cookies, he had his arm around you and the blanket over both of your legs.

"So, is this how you pictured your first date?"

"No, I didn't. This is even better," he smiled, brushing a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth away with his thumb.

"It is?" you asked, your voice soft as he brought his thumb to his mouth.

"It is," he said, unaware of how enticing he looked as he licked it clean. He bet you tasted just as sweet. "I wish Natasha had set you up with me first."

The longing in your eyes shifted to confusion. "First? What do you mean?" you asked before you nodded in understanding. "I'm not your first date, am I?"

Steve briefly closed his eyes. Shit. He didn't mean to say that. He was a terrible liar though, so he knew he couldn't come up with an excuse.

"No," he said.

"I'm so sorry," you said, picking a bit at the blanket and avoiding his gaze. "That was a really dumb assumption on my part."

"It wasn't dumb," he promised. "I don't exactly go around broadcasting my personal life."

That happened to him enough while he was under the ice and you wouldn't have known.

"It was dumb, but thank you."

He didn't want you to feel bad or embarrassed. "Look at me, please."

It took a moment, but you slowly turned your head toward him. He wanted to kiss the uncertain expression off your face. Leaning in, that's exactly what he did. The brush of his lips against yours was soft and full of promise.

Perfect.

"This is the best date I've ever had," he whispered.

"Our date isn't over yet," you smiled when he leaned in for another kiss.

With your lips against his, he imagined what it would have been like had he taken you out in the 40's. Maybe the two of you would have gone dancing. Any excuse to hold you close like this.

It would be the perfect second date.

Steve deserves something sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

by ilonaramona

Geralt can admit that it isn’t his greatest escape plan. But being pushed back towards the waterfall, there are few other options for him and Jaskier to escape alive.

Rocks tumble over the side into the rushing white waters. Geralt sneers at the edge. He should have known what the angry mob was doing. Should have guessed it. Stupid. And now, Jaskier and himself are standing at the world’s edge with no where to go.

No where to go, but down.

Geralt looks towards the trees, can already see the crowd of 30 gaining on them.

“Geralt, think of something, will you!” Jaskier’s voice is a shrill thing in his ears. But the  is a cover. Fear wafts off of him, though less so than an average human.

It is this reason that he grabs hold of the bard and throws the both of them over the cliff.

Falling from this height is more terrifying than Geralt anticipated. There’s hardly any control he can take. Jaskier is screaming beside him. It lasts a moment, barely an instant, before they plunge into the icy cold water.

The world around him spins. There is no sense of direction. No up or down. His only tether is to Jaskier, whom he refuses to let go of. He will not lose him in the rush of the river.

It’s a fight to the surface, with his armor and his friend, but there have been more difficult battles. The next problem is swimming to the damn shore, but the rocks are slippery and Jaskier refuses to help. Though, he may be in shock.

He’ll deal with that later.

Finally, he pulls them both ashore. Geralt gasps for air, more out of panic than anything else. For a moment, all he can do is lay on his back and look at the sky. His gaze shifts from the bright blue of it to the top of the cliff. There are no signs on the angry crowd. He can’t properly hear them with the rushing water. Even if they were to come after himself and Jaskier, they will have plenty of time to make their escape.

“Jaskier,” Geralt calls out. They should dry off. Get going. Figure out a plan on how to get their belongings back. He turns his head to the side, waiting for the oncoming flood of complaints.

Silence.

“Jaskier.” He sits up, discomfort and discombobulation forgotten. Silence rings in his ears. The bard is always making noise. Singing, humming, tapping. His heart beating. But now, his lungs are quiet in the orchestra that makes up Jaskier.

Geralt scrambles over to Jaskier’s side and turns him over. His head lolls. But he’s still alive. His heartbeat, weak as it is, is still thumping. There’s still time to fix this. Panic, alien and intrusive, has to be pushed down and away.

There’s a trick Geralt learned many years ago in Skellige. Something about… pulling the water from someone’s lungs. He’s never had the use for it before now. Tries to remember all of the specifics.

He tilts back Jaskier’s head, pries open his mouth, pinches his nose, and then leans down to breathe air into his lungs.

Geralt can see from the corner of his eye Jaskier’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Does that mean it’s working? He continues regardless. (This can’t be the end.) Almost dizzy from lack of oxygen on his own, Geralt raises his head and takes a deep breath before returning to Jaskier.

It’s with this shared air that Jaskier finally sputters to life, turning to his side and expelling river water. He coughs violently, his voice rasping. Relief floods Geralt. He is going to have to thank Crach an Craite one of these days.

He’ll have to visit Skellige again. (Go to the coast?)

Now that Jaskier is okay, Geralt has little idea what to do with his hands. He places one on Jaskier’s shoulder. Runs his thumb back and forth in what he hopes to be a comforting motion. “Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. Taps his fingers against his chest. Breathes. Then, “Did- did I-” Another cough. “Did I imagine things… or did you just kiss me back to life?”

Geralt removes his hand from Jaskier’s shoulder and frowns. “That is not what happened.”

Jaskier, the bastard, opens a single eye. Shining with mischief. Geralt wants to wipe that smirk off of his face. “So you didn’t put your mouth on my mouth?”

“That’s not how that works.”

“True love’s kiss, what a beautiful thing!”

“Jaskier.” Geralt looks away, unable to withstand the joy Jaskier is exuding. “We have to go.”

“Truly, Geralt, I wasn’t sure you had it in you. And here we are! Me, alive and… well, not kicking yet. You may have to carry me. Or, oh! Why not kiss me again? If one kiss brings me back from the brink of death, surely-”

“Jaskier-” This is neither the time or place to talk of… such things. He takes a deep breath in slowly. “Just. Shut the fuck up.”

-

more geraskier

Oh valley of learning

Everyone always wants to talk about Hook or Pan. Everyone always wants to debate which one is good and which is evil - who we’re supposed to follow and who we aren’t. The Peter Pan mythos has pretty much shrunk down to nothing but Hook and Pan (Hook, SyFy’s Neverland, Pan, OUAT, etc). Occasionally Tinkerbell factors in (Hook, Disney’s Tinkerbell, OUAT, etc). There’s one character, however, that always gets sidelined - which is puzzling since they are the main character of both the play and the book. That character is, of course, Wendy Darling.

Peter Pan is Wendy’s coming of age story. Wendy who decides to run away from home. Wendy who realizes that she must grow up - and that there’s no shame in that. Wendy who sees Peter as deficient and sees Hook as empty and decides that, no, she doesn’t want to be a part of that. Wendy gets the adventure she’s always wanted and she turns away because she realizes that it’s lacking. She’s the only one who truly sees the hollowness of being young forever. Barrie even says “You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than other girls.”

People always debate on who the hero is. When they learn that Peter could be horrid they assume it has to be Hook. Of course, the answer is that neither of them are the hero. Wendy is the hero of the story. You’re not supposed to be like Peter, who kept every good and bad aspects of being a child and can’t tell right from wrong. You’re not supposed to be Hook, either. He let go of everything childish and loving about him and became bitter and evil. They’re both the extreme ends of the scale. You’re supposed to fall in the middle, to hold onto the things about childhood that make it beautiful - the wonder, the imagination, the innocence - while still growing up and learning morality and responsibility. You’re not supposed to be Hook. You’re not supposed to be Peter Pan.

You’re supposed to be Wendy Darling. 

The feelings were well expressed and this is an impossible situation to imagine, nonetheless we can see everything through her emotions and how the lack of closure can be worse than knowing the truth.

Your writing was amazing 💜

Promise Not to Promise Anymore

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of cheating, angst

Word count: 2448

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been struggling with for a while, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to get the words to sort themselves out. Special thank you to @krirebr for helping me so much with the process. Without you literally nothing would ever be posted here 😂. (Yes I am aware that I barely post…I’m working on it!) Any feedback that you could leave would be really appreciated. ❤️

The day had been uneventful, boring, normal. But something about the day had your skin crawling. You weren’t sure what had set you off, and yet here you were pacing. Something you only did when you were anxious.

Your phone chirped with another notification, probably one of your socials. Your anxiety had you reaching for it immediately. Seeing the name of your ex pop up on the screen had your stomach dropping immediately. Neither of you had reached out in months. The man who had blustered out of your life as fast as he had blustered in was texting you.

You threw the phone onto the couch without reading the notification. Sure you could find out immediately what he wanted if you actually read the text, instead you screamed into the throw pillow. Your mind began to run with all of the possibilities of why this man would choose now to text you. Did he want money? Was he dying? Was he texting just to let you know how little you meant to him?

The last one, it was definitely the last one.

You stood from the couch and glared at the small black rectangle that had ruined your otherwise boring day. Your phone chirped again, and you physically recoiled from the sound. Deciding a drink would help with whatever it was your ex wanted you dazedly walked to the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, your gaze immediately found the bottle of wine you had bought on a whim on the weekend. Something the lady at the grocery store had recommended since you looked so lost in the wine section. Grabbing the bottle and bypassing a glass was the best way to handle this conversation you decided.

You sat on the couch, taking a long pull from the neck of the bottle before reaching for your phone. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you unlocked the phone screen and tapped on the messages icon. There was his name in big bold letters: Andy. You hesitated as your finger hovered over the message, you could see his second message clearly Are you too busy to talk now? Maybe you could just not read it. Or read them and never respond. Or read them and respond later.

You hated every single one of those options, because you knew as soon as you opened these messages you’d be responding immediately. You took another long pull from your bottle, and placed the phone back down beside you. You needed your mind to stop. The thinking, the over-thinking, it was too much. You flipped on the TV to distract yourself and curled up like a cat. Your phone chirped again from under a throw pillow, and you pointedly ignored it.

You weren’t ready to deal with Andy. You had thought when he ended things that you would never hear from him again. Devastated. That was the only word you could use to describe how you felt after he left. You still didn’t even understand why he had ended things, only that he clearly hadn’t felt as strongly as you did about him.

There was another chirp that had you sighing and grabbing for your phone. You had to deal with it, or he wouldn’t stop. That was Andy. You pulled up the messages anticipating at least a double text, but completely unprepared for all the messages he had sent you,

I know this is out of the blue, but I need to speak to you.

Are you too busy to talk now?

Please Honey, I need to talk to you.

It’s important.

Honey…

Of course, the man could double text you, but would refuse to supply what he actually wanted to speak to you about. You typed out several potential responses before deciding on something polite but to the point.

Andy, I can talk. What’s going on?

You didn’t have to wait long for Andy’s equally to the point response.

Can I call you?

You stared at the message for a moment. You knew you couldn’t hear his voice, it would take you right back to where you were. All those months ago when he broke your heart. All the hurt, and the anger, it would be right there.

As you debated what to say, your phone began to ring. The man had absolutely no patience. You stared at his name, and without thinking answered the phone.

“Hello…” You sat and waited for him to say his peace, how bad could it be.

”Honey, I’m sorry.” You shuddered as Andy’s voice came through the phone. You forgot how his deep timbre had always made you feel comforted, and safe, and warm. “How are you doing? I know I shouldn’t be…I don’t…Are you okay?”

You hesitated before you answered. Months ago you would’ve known exactly what to say to Andy to make him feel better. Now it felt like you were talking to a stranger. “I’m fine Andy. Why are you hammer messaging me?”

Andy chuckled lightly, and you smiled at the lilting notes. “You haven’t changed.” Your eye twitched at that comment. “I just, I needed to hear your voice, Honey.”

”So you messaged me repeatedly?” You could hear the annoyance in your tone, which meant that Andy could hear it ten times louder.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this…” Andy trailed off and sighed. You huffed and pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment so you could murmur your annoyance to yourself.

”Just say it Andy, why did you reach out? Why are we on the phone?” You pulled at the threads on the throw pillow under your arm.

“I miss you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You couldn’t have heard him right. He missed you? No, no he was dying, or broke, or literally anything else.

“You-what?” You spluttered out the only thought that came to your mind.

Andy chuckled nervously, “I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way your forehead pinches when you’re focused. I miss the way you would take care of me. The moment I ended things? I knew I had made a mistake, and so I told myself that it was kinder to you, to just move on.”

You sat there in silence, shocked at his sudden declarations. “Why, why did you end things? What happened? Andy, I loved you so much, and then out of nowhere you just up and ended things.”

You heard Andy sigh on the other end of the phone. You could picture him scrubbing his hand down his face and scratching at the beard hairs on his chin. His nervous habit. “I got scared, I think.” He chuckled again, “I know it’s not a good excuse…”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s a terrible excuse Andy. What scared you? That I loved you? That I wanted to be a part of your life? Please tell me, what exactly scared you so badly that you ended the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to let all of that out.

There was a long drawn out silence. “I think it was how strongly I felt about you. I was…scared of what that meant. Before I met you I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I had felt it. But once that feeling truly hit me? I couldn’t actually function.” Andy sighed again, “This isn’t coming out right.”

You took another long pull off of your bottle of wine. You let Andy’s words roll over in your mind. Could he actually be telling the truth? His love for you was so strong that he got scared. It just didn’t seem right, there was something else, there had to be.

“So what you’re saying is, our love was too much for you?” Your tone rang with annoyance and a little bit of desperation. You remembered any time you had tried to get something out of Andy that he didn’t want to tell you, how carefully you’d have to tread, otherwise he would shut down. As much as you wanted to tell him off, end the call and block his number forever. There was still a part of you that needed to know the real reason, so before Andy could respond you continued. “Andy, as much as I love this game of cat and mouse we’re playing, where it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you,” You heard him softly chuckle on the other end of the line, “I just need the truth, maybe it will hurt me, maybe it won’t but I need it.”

There was a long silence on the line. Although it made you nervous and want to say something to fill it, you sat and sipped on your slowly warming wine while you waited for his response. Your bluntness would have one of two effects: either he would fold and tell you what you wanted, no needed to know, or he would shut down and it would be months, if ever, before you heard from him again.

His heavy sigh preceded his response, “You’re right, and wrong.” He paused as if he was gathering his thoughts. “It is true that the feeling of love between us scared me, but it’s also that it scared me so much that…”

”That what?” You knew what he was going to say, felt it deep within your soul. Your heart was about to be broken by Andy Barber once again, and what was worse, you had practically asked him to do it this time.

”I slept with someone else. It only happened once, but it was before I ended things.”

“I see.” It was all you could get out. You could feel the twisting in your chest again, the anger burning behind your eyes, the tears welling and choking you with their strength.

”I’m so sorry Honey. As soon as it was over I knew I had fucked up. But I also knew if that I couldn’t be with you still, it wasn’t fair to you.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and it only made the anger burn stronger. Like his words had lit a match and poured kerosene over top.

“So you called me now, to…what? Make yourself feel better?” Your breathing was hard, almost panting in your anger.

”I don’t know why I’m calling. I just know that I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I miss what you brought to my life: the pure joy, the love I could feel down to my core.” Andy’s voice was strained. It was only then that you realized he was crying.

”Are you drunk Andy?” It was the only time you had ever seen him cry, when he had one too many with the boys after work.

”No, I swear. I promise Honey, I haven’t had a drink tonight.”

You took another sip of wine. Contemplating the truth in Andy’s words, the burn of his betrayal. This was just too much.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally told me the truth Andy. Even if it is months later.” You hugged your throw pillow to your chest as you prepared yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt him as much as they would hurt you. “I can’t forgive you, for any of it. Please, just leave me alone.”

Before you could second guess your decision, you hung up the phone. You stared blankly at the TV screen, not even remembering what you had put on in the first place. What shook you from your reverie was a dull thud from your door. Like someone had just planted their forehead against it.

You stood and quickly crossed the room to check what the noise was. It was only once your hand was on the handle you knew: Andy. You unlocked the door, and twisted the handle slowly, knowing the man who had destroyed you not once, but twice was standing on the other side.

When your eyes connected with his, you could feel all of the love, joy and affection come flooding back. It took everything within you to not jump into his arms and sob until you had nothing left. Instead you gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing holding you up.

”Honey…” Andy’s voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that you weren’t even sure you heard it. His hands reached out and thumbed at the tears quietly streaming down your face. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry.”

With that he pulled you against his chest. You could smell the high end cologne he wore to work, and the underlying scent of pure Andy. The warmth of his chest and his arms wrapping around your back had you losing all control. You sobbed with abandon into his neck, no words leaving your lips. Andy scooped you up and walked you both into your apartment. Using his foot to shut the door behind him.

He sat down on your couch, with you tucked against his chest and began murmuring quietly to you. You couldn’t make out most of it, but did catch the odd word. “Shh Honey.” “I know, I’m so sorry.” “Just let it out, okay?”

When you finally felt like you could cry no more, you pulled your face from Andy’s neck. You could feel how swollen your eyes were, in fact your whole face felt puffy. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Andy let out a full belly laugh at your meekly spoken words. To which you glared at him and crossed your arms across your chest.

”Okay, okay.” He wheezed in a breath, “I’m sorry Honey. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you. Even if that means I don’t get to feel your love again, let me just try to make this right.”

You reached out and stroked his cheek. Feeling his soft skin contrast with the roughness of his beard. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, see the grayness of his skin. “I need time Andy.”

He sighed, and let his eyes flutter shut. “Of course Honey, whatever you need.”

You reluctantly stood from his embrace, “Please leave Andy, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He nodded solemnly. Andy stood, he moved to hug you, but you took a few steps out of his reach. He nodded again before heading for the door.

”Honey?” His back was still to you.

”Yeah?”

”I still love you, more than anything. And I promise to do everything I can to show you that.”

”Andy, maybe we should both promise not to promise anymore.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @rebeccapineapple @precious1610 @bval-1 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @thezombieprostitute