#every time christmas time ends and winter goes away i feel so upset | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latibvles · 1 year

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HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

DECEMBER 24TH, 1953 — in which Daisy and the kids head up to Philadelphia to celebrate Christmas with the Winters family, sans Ron, who couldn’t get away from Fort Bragg to celebrate the holiday.

WARNINGS: Nothing, except it gets suggestive at the end — but not extremely explicit. Calling Ron by his rank has consequences idk..

TAGS: @brassknucklespeirs who asked for the Christmas Special, AAAND @liebgotts-lovergirl , @softguarnere , @galaxialuz — some sweet DaisRon winter feels for this Christmas <3

“Oh, Dais, would you pass me that? Thank you.” Daisy grabs one of the pretty ceramic bowls, sliding it over the counter to Ginny, who takes it with a smile. Outside, she can hear their boys letting out “battle cries” as they try to knock Dick into the snow. Inside, Laura lays out on the floor, the two year old all tuckered out from playing all morning.

“Careful, I think Robbie might kill your husband,” Daisy snickers, watching through the window as her son latches onto Dick’s calf, fresh powder pluming around him with every step the man takes.

“Just like his dad,” Ginny responds with a bit of a chuckle, before going back to dumping spices into the ceramic bowl. She gives Daisy a glance. “How is Ron doing, by the way?”

Daisy’s smile becomes a little more sullen, glancing down at the countertop for a moment.

“Mad as all hell,” Daisy admits. “He kept apologizing on the phone, I told him to stop worrying about it.”

“I mean, if Dick pulled out a sexy red velvet number last Christmas for me to unwrap I’d be pretty upset to miss out too.” Daisy lightly slaps her friend’s arm, looking back at her daughter as Ginny continues to giggle to herself. Her own face flared up at the memory. It was, for all purposes, Rita’s idea — an early parcel last Christmas that had a little red dress that hardly covered anything, adored with pretty white fur at the top and bottom, and around the cuffs. She’d given Rita an earful about it, her face flushed but… still tried it on. Just to see.

Needless to say the festivities didn’t really stop after they put the kids to bed.

“He calls every night to talk to the kids. Tries to anyway.” Daisy goes to grab the eggs from Ginny’s fridge, and continues to observe as she makes her attempt at gingerbread cookies so the boys could decorate them.

“Are you mad?” Ginny asks with a raised brow.

“At his job? Yes. At him? No.” Daisy’s reply is immediate. They knew what they were getting into when they married — knew they’d be moving around a lot, that his work would take him away from her for extended periods of time. She’d been especially upset when he was deployed to Korea, but even then, they made it work. Now he was at Fort Bragg, she and the kids lived in Tennessee, and they still did their best to make it work.

A testament to that fact was that this is only the second time Ron ever missed a Christmas. He’d been adamant that Daisy still went up to Pennsylvania with the kids, to stay with Dick and Ginny and celebrate anyway, so at least she wasn’t doing the whole “Santa” thing by herself this year.

“You’re a lot stronger than I am, I’ll give you that.”

“He’s not dead Gin, he’s just working.”

“I know I just… well, how’s Robbie taking it?”

Daisy hums in thought, taking half of the dough to cut into little gingerbread men.

The first time Robbie could remember seeing Ron in uniform, he squealed in delight, begging Ron to let him wear his hat (and he did, marching around their living room and demanding that his father give him twenty push ups, which he did with the little boy on his back). Now that he was in kindergarten he liked to tell everyone Ron was a superhero and that he “punched bad guys in the face” for a job. When Robbie asked Ron why he wouldn’t be home — they told him he had to train future superheroes.

He took it well enough, and Ron calling so frequently seemed to help.

“I don’t think he gets it entirely just yet, we’ve been… explaining bit-by-bit what Daddy actually does.” Daisy admits with a bit of a shrug, twisting her silver wedding band for a few moments. Outside, she can hear Robbie holler, and next to her Ginny snickers.

“You sure Ron hasn’t been teaching him combat maneuvers in his free time? He nearly took out Dick’s ankles.”

“Yeah, he actually came out practicing his Foy run,” Daisy remarks sarcastically, and Ginny snorts at that, rolling her eyes.

“Have you met his mother? With all that crazy in him I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Daisy looks up for a moment, able to pinpoint her son’s bright red cap. Little Alan hangs off of his father’s shoulders with a toothy grin, and Dick picks Robbie up by the pits to lift him high in the air. He shrieks excitedly, kicking and squirming in Dick’s hold. She then looks at Ginny, who’s resting her chin on her palm to watch the man with a distant sort of smile. She looks down, and gently pokes her friend’s tummy.

“So do you think it’s gonna be a boy or a girl?” she asks. Ginny turns to look at Daisy again, rolling her eyes.

“Dick wants a girl since Al’s such a momma’s boy. I think it’s gonna be another boy, but what do I know? I’m just the one carrying it.”

“Careful, keep talking so sweetly and someone might think you like your husband.”

“Yeah, just don’t tell him that, it's supposed to be a secret.” Ginny responds with equal sarcasm, and Daisy laughs.

It’s then that they hear another shriek, but not the shrill sound of laughter, and a ‘Daddy!’ Daisy peers out the window and watches Robbie take off down the lawn, with Dick hot on his heels, Alan in his arms, towards—

“No way,” Daisy whispers, and Ginny practically pushes her to get her shoes on, scooping Laura into her arms as Daisy takes off out the door after the three men.

By the time she reaches the lawn, she’s already a bit misty-eyed.

Ron presses kisses to Robbie’s cheek, his hat lopsided on their son’s head. Robbie’s smiling from ear-to-ear, dimples prominent, prattling all about what they’ve done in the three days they’ve been in Philly — as if he didn’t tell Ron about all these things on the phone. His eyes find hers and he chuckles, walking forward with their son in his arms.

“I thought…” she whispers, her voice trembling.

“So did I, managed to pull a few strings. The people on base like me,” he leans down, kissing her sweetly and she can’t stop smiling. He bumps their noses as he pulls away. “Gonna catch a cold, out here in that sweater.” Ron warns. Daisy just smiles a little wider.

“I’ve got you here to keep me warm, don’t I?” As Ginny passes her their daughter and she reaches out to grab at Ron’s nose, he smiles wider.

“That you do.”

Ron can’t bake without the supervision of at least half of Daisy’s side of the family — but decorating cookies with Dick and the kids works just as well, Laura perched on his lap and grabbing fistfuls of candy. He keeps a watchful eye, ensuring it doesn’t all go into her mouth, wipes Robbie’s face of white frosting and all the while Daisy can’t stop smiling, pressing kisses to the top of his head and muttering quiet “I love you”s and “I miss you”s in his ear, which he returns.

They get the kids to bed eventually, all tuckered out from the day’s events and Ron’s surprise visit. Alan and Robbie share Al’s bed, and Laura has been using Al’s old toddler bed. After that, the four of them set up all the presents under the glittering tree in the living room, share the four gingerbread cookies laid out, and stay up for a little while longer until Daisy and Ron retreat to the guest bedroom.

Daisy keeps running her thumbs over Ron’s face, her cheeks hurt from smiling as she gazes down at him.

“So, remind me, when did you leave?”

“Three in the morning from Kentucky,” he responds simply, and her brows furrow for a moment. “I slept on the train, sweetness, don’t yell at me.”

“I can’t yell at you, the kids are sleeping.”

“You’d find a way,” he retorts, and she can’t help but smile, tucking her face into the crook of his neck for a moment. “Anyways, got on the train from Fort Bragg, we stopped in Maryland. That was when I called you.”

“That explains all the noise in the back,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his neck, his jaw, and then his cheek, enjoying the small, shuddering breath he takes, and the way his fingers dig into her hips a little tighter. “But I’m… glad you made it. Think one more day here and Robbie might’ve broken Dick’s leg.” Ron chuckles, a low noise rumbling through his chest and Daisy grins a little wider.

“That’s your son, Dais.” He insists with a slight hum to his voice, hands slipping under her shirt to rub circles into her hip bones, she shakes her head.

“He’s at least 50% you. I’d argue maybe even 60% since he’s got your eyes. Takes two to make a baby.” Ron’s grin turns somewhat wolfish as he looks her over, hands moving to press into her back.

“Does, doesn’t it?” he mutters, trailing off for a moment. “We’ve gotten pretty good at that. Rearing kids.” Daisy can’t help but giggle as Ron leans forward to press a few kisses to the column of her throat.

“You trying to raise an Army or something?” she mutters, letting out a quiet gasp when he nips a certain spot on her neck.

“Well I think they have a mighty fine CO, Lieutenant Speirs,” he mutters, and she can feel his grin against her neck. Daisy laughs again, carding her fingers through his hair.

“I’d have to agree, Major Speirs.” In time with the use of his rank, she gives a gentle tug to the hair at the base of his neck. Ron pulls his face from her throat to look at her with eyes blown wide, lips parted. All Daisy does is smile at him, and shift a little in his lap.

Even when Ron leans forward to press his lips to hers again in a heated kiss, and flip them over so he’s on top of her, she can’t stop the laugh that bubbles from her throat. Ron reaches for her hands and pins them above her head, pulling away for a moment to stare down at her — hair fanned across the mattress, eyes sparkly as she stares up at him. He takes a look over at the clock on the dresser, then back to her.

“Merry Christmas, Dais,” he murmurs. Wrapping her legs around his waist a little tighter, she nods.

“Merry Christmas, Ron,” and despite the hand pinning down her wrists, she reaches up to give him a kiss that’s a little softer, and he lets her wrists go to pull her impossibly closer to him.

Welcome home.

#ronald speirs #ronald speirs x oc #. daisy clarke #ron x daisy #ron speirs x oc #hbo war fic #hbo war x oc #band of brothers fic #postwar sweetness #band of brothers oc #rita : *evil laughter after sending daisy a sexy Santa dress and goes back to celebrating Chanukah with Joe’s family*#this isn’t the first time she’s done that #she thinks it’s funny #poet’s notepad

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bucky-hues · 3 years

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bucky barnes fic recs

here are some bucky fics i loved reading!

many of these are 18+ and there are some dark fics in here, so please read the warnings for each fic! if any of the writers i’ve included want anything removed/edited, please let me know!

one shots

jack pendleton | @roger-that-cap

author!bucky x reader

moving into an apartment to get away from your last relationship was fun all fun and games until you met your extremely attractive across-the-hall neighbor, who makes awesome cookies and even better novels.

grip | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x reader

You knew Bucky didn’t like his arm. You just didn’t know how much until he accidentally hurt you with it.

voicemails to an unmanned inbox | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x reader

When Bucky takes an argument a little too far, you take off. All he wants is for you to come back home.

can’t get the words out | @pellucid-constellations

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky’s been awfully distant lately. You don’t think your heart can take what you know he’s about to say.

his everything | @likeahorribledream

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky has trouble talking about his feelings and he ends up pushing away the one person he needs the most.

eavesdrop | @bestofbucky

bucky x avenger!reader

things spies don't notice | @starrysebastians

bucky x avenger!reader

don't you worry (your pretty little head) | @babyboibucky

guitarist!bucky x reader

You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

suburbia | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

sparklin' eyes | @19ana45

roommate!bucky x reader

Prompt: Character A’s current boyfriend/girlfriend/partner mocks Character B for their crush on their best friend, [A]. [B], feeling humiliated, withdraws from the friendship with [A], who is completely oblivious [B] has feelings for them.

reoccurring face | @swtbbybarnes

bucky x reader

he’s been around a lot lately, sometimes multiple times a day, and you’re starting to wonder how much coffee one man can actually drink.

falling for you | @comfortbucky

roommate!bucky

moving on | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x reader

After Bucky had been missing for a year, you had presumed him dead. Time passed, yet you seemed unable to move on from his death. That was until a familiar face came to your doorstep one winter night.

bucky bitchass barnes to the rescue | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x avenger!reader

In an attempt to escape from hectic life as an Avenger, you decided to go out on a date. Unfortunately, you got stood up. While Bucky hates you, he hates seeing you embarrassed more and decides to fill in for your M.I.A. date.

pansies, pain, and other things about bucky | @bucky-bucket-barnes

bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

the lost converse | @firefly-in-darkness

bucky x reader

Last nights party was a bit of a mad one, what do you do when you wake up in someone else’s bed?

nervous | @dailyreverie

bucky x reader

A nervous Bucky introduces you to his fellow Avengers during game night

fever | @dailyreverie

bucky x reader

a little old fashioned | @gogolucky13

bucky x reader

Bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.

sweetart | @onlyjamesbarnes

soft!bucky x baker!reader

your best friend bucky tries to stay platonic with you, letting you live out your dreams, but his instincts soon get the better of him.

the things you've done | @divine-mistake

bucky x reader

what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach out for his right arm?

do you still love me? | @thatfangirl42

bucky x reader

2:00am | @thatfangirl42

bucky x avenger!reader

miscommunications | @empyreanwritings

bucky x avenger!reader

cookies, kisses, and such | @sweetbucky

neighbour!bucky

pretending | @multifandomwriter

bucky x reader

Bucky notices you at a party and is instantly attracted to you. Steve instantly notices the lovestruck look in his eyes, but also his nerves that are stopping him from talking to you. So Steve plays on Bucky’s jealousy to get him to make a move.

good together | @irndad

bucky barnes x avenger!reader

bucky and his girlfriend are in secret, and they think they are absolutely perfect for each other. literally everyone else in the compound thinks bucky and nat are made for each other.

l-o-v-e | @irndad

college!bucky x reader

college!bucky meets reader in a library and it’s all downhill from there. He’s desperately in love and pining and it’s all ridiculous and he doesn’t think she could like him back.

tell me the truth | @bwhitewolfbarnes

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky finds himself overhearing your conversation with his younger self, and he hates the way it makes him ache. He needs to know what is real.

the staring contest | @jobean12-blog

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky has a staring/glaring problem and you can’t figure out why!

lavender | @wkemeup

bucky x reader

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know.

little lion man | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

Sent on an assignment back to 1943, you encounter a drastically different version of the man you know

purgatory | @wkemeup

bucky x avenger!reader

While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.

i love you, you idiot | @chrisevansjellybeans

bucky x reader

all the good things | @houseravenclaws

bucky x avenger!reader

bucky’s been more than a little happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.

tap | @houseravenclaws

bucky x avenger!reader

bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.

shaking | @clintbartonswife

bucky x avengers!reader

after you get injured on a mission, the usually stoic Bucky breaks, and you see a side to him that he’s kept hidden ever since his acceptance into the Avengers.

deserving | @hanoella

bucky x healer!reader

When someone bad mouths Bucky in your presence, you set things straight.

keep me cool | @chouettedubois

bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky are on your third undercover mission acting as a couple. Things go awry when you fall ill. Cue caretaker!Bucky to the rescue.

on, off and repeat | @avasparks

neighbour!bucky x reader

i wished on the moon for you | @sunmoonandbucky

bucky x reader

After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you’re the first in line.

the hottest avenger | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

Being locked together with Sam and Bucky brings the worst out of you, picking on each other constantly. Following an arguement Bucky accidentally calls you his girlfriend in front of Sam when your relationship was supposed to be a secret.

hey daddy | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

You join Peter and his friends for a game of Truth Or Dare but you wish you stayed in your room when MJ challenges you to do a task that will definitely out your secret relationship with Bucky.

crash course | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x reader

Bucky is a regular at the café where you work at and seeing him struggling with technology, you offer to help him, teaching him the basics while you are both thinking about taking it a little further than just a crash course.

little things | @watchmegetobsessed

bucky x avenger!reader

missed chances | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky is about to ask out the reader, but right before she could answer him her ex calls her up and she answers happily as she always wanted a second chance with said ex

truth or dare? | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x avenger!reader

the experiment | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x reader

make believe on christmas eve | @green-eyeddragonfanfiction

bucky x reader

When your family insists you bring your [nonexistent] long-term boyfriend over for Christmas, you panic. You hadn’t expected to be put in this situation; you never thought you’d actually have to bring “him” over.

sick day | @nastybuckybarnes

bucky x avenger!reader

you tell a little white lie to escape Avenging for a day, and Bucky finds out. He’s hurt and upset, until he finds out your reason why.

spies and secrets | @barnesandco

bucky x reader

Bucky buys a new jacket that is… uncharacteristically bright. Sam ribs him for it, and you- you don’t know what to do with yourself.

the bar rules | @buckyhoney (18+)

bartender!bucky x reader

the family lunch | @buckyhoney (18+)

dad'sbestfriend!bucky x reader

forbidden fruit | @bucksfucks (18+)

dad'sbestfriend!bucky x reader

you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.

mr. brightside | @bucksfucks (18+)

ex'sdad!bucky x reader

the one where you fuck your ex's dad

left gasping for air | @bucksfucks (18+)

bucky x reader

doused with sex pollen, you & bucky are met with a difficult decision.

love me harder | @celestialbarnes (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

you and bucky have been flirting and screwing around for months now, after seeing him getting frisky with someone else, you decide to do the same and bucky’s just about had enough.

sweeter than sugar | @angrythingstarlight (18+)

chubbybaker!bucky x reader

look my way | @sableseb (18+)

neighbour!bucky x reader

boyfriend upgrade | @multifandomwriter (18+)

roommate!bucky x reader

You have always been close with your roommate, Bucky, but tensions start to rise when your boyfriend begins to stay over at your apartment. You feel like you’re drifting apart until Bucky accidentally sees you almost naked.

lure | @bccky (18+) dark

bucky x reader

it’s all about the perfect lure

plan | @sergeantxrogers (18+)

bucky x reader

“I was supposed to forget about you, and you were supposed to forget about me, but damn it if I could ever forget about you because since the day I saw you, you never left my mind and you were all I thought about,” he rambled, focusing on anything his eyes could land on that wasn’t you. “You’re… you’re still all I think about,” he whispered, voice tired and beaten, like the very sentence had been waiting in his throat for years just to get a chance to come out into the open.

play pretend | @wkemeup (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

When Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help.

you’re mine | @marveicinematics (18+)

bucky x reader

Having a secret relationship with a man as insecure and complex as James Buchanan Barnes may not have been the best idea you had, but one thing was certain: you knew how to make him feel better about the things that bothered him.

white lies and truth serum | @mariessecretfantasies (18+) dark

dark!bucky x avenger!reader

You and Bucky share a dance, a few too many drinks, and a night in bed together. Unfortunately, he neglects to tell you that he can’t get drunk.

bitter fruit | @divine-mistake (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

“The mission was already a success!” you say and you can feel tears burning the back of your eyes. You will yourself to blink them back. “You had the files, the base was set to detonate, I don’t understand why you didn’t just stay on the fucking jet.”

“Because you were going to die.”

always here | @simsadventures (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

You have an obvious crush on Bucky, and kind of hope he feels the same. But when you overhear agents talking about you, and then even Bucky, you realise there is no hope for you. At least you think there isn’t.

your captain | @onlyjamesbarnes (18+)

dark!bucky x reader, husband!steve x reader

a perfect anniversary night gets interrupted by his best friend, who happens to be your boss.

series/multi-chap

graveyard , sacrifice | @wkemeup

bucky x healer!reader

As the unofficial healer for the Avengers, you pride yourself on the ability to mend heroes with the touch of your hand. Only, your gift comes at a heavy price — one you keep secret from your friends —and when Bucky asks you to do the impossible, they’ll discover why your gift is called a sacrifice, too.

sunrise | @wkemeup (18+)

veteran!bucky x librarian!reader

After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is discharged from active duty and sent back to civilian life. Left with a storm of unchecked guilt, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you.

TiMER | @xbuchananbarnes (ongoing) (18+)

bartender!bucky x reader (soulmate au)

“If a clock could count down to the exact moment you’ll meet your soulmate, would you want to know?”

the match | @babyboibucky (ongoing) (18+)

ceo!bucky x reader

You come across your boss’ Tinder profile.

the holiday hack | @gogolucky13

bucky x reader (modern au)

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

sexual healing , medicine | @gogolucky13 (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

You ask a touch-starved Bucky if he wants to try something new in an attempt to take your minds off work.

vacant mirrors | @whirlybirbs (18+)

bucky x reader

shit's been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes. set before tfatws; a friends-to-lovers, slowburn, eventual smut.

salvatore | @nsfwsebbie (18+) dark

dark!bucky x reader

Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

polyonymous | @bubblebuckys

bucky x reader (social media au)

You met James on Twitter three months ago, and you’ve talked everyday since. You really like him, and you don’t think you’ve met anyone like him. That is, until the fateful night that brings the Avengers to you. You meet Bucky Barnes, and then you’re stuck choosing between two guys so alike you find yourself asking why they couldn’t be the same person.

going live , offline | @ritesofreverie (18+)

camboy!bucky x reader

your new neighbour looks so familiar, where had you seen him before?

heavy metal lover | @mypoisonedvine (ongoing) (18+)

sub!bucky x dominatrix!reader

working as a dominatrix is never exactly easy, but a new client brings challenges you never expected.

fake boyfriend real orgasms | @bucksfucks (ongoing) (18+)

roommate!bucky x reader

when bucky needs a date to sam’s wedding, he makes a deal with you. when it starts to turn into something a little more real, you realize how deep you’re in.

almost had me believing it | @tuiccim (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

it's brooklyn, baby | @my-divine-death (ongoing) (18+)

college!bucky x reader

hush 1 2 | @starbuckie (ongoing)

bucky x reader

in quiet corners and selfish moments, y/n and bucky have kept their relationship a secret, one love that was pure and untouched by the darkness that surrounded them. but after bucky is able to walk the streets a free man once again, will their love be able to survive?

misconceptions | @firefly-in-darkness (18+)

bucky x avenger!reader

Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have…

what a night | @jurassicbarnes

bucky x reader

Bucky Barnes is out in the new world, navigating through everyday life and it’s trials and tribulations. His therapist insists he tries new things. He has collected a few new hobbies. But when it comes to making new acquaintances, what’s a better way to meet new people than a little dating site called Tinder.

hey, professor | @balenciagabucky (ongoing) (18+) dark

professor!bucky x reader

professor barnes always had his eye on you, you noticed it, your girlfriend noticed it, even his friends and after one raunchy photo sent to him, a joke, nothing more, in his world you become more than just a student

missing piece 1 2 3 4 | @likeahorribledream

bucky x avenger!reader

seeing red | @mypoisonedvine (18+)

bodyguard!bucky x actress!reader

bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

flight risk , no control | @wkemeup

bucky barnes x avenger!reader

Bucky becomes a flight risk after a failed mission and is put in lockup under Steve’s orders. Even though Bucky won’t say a word of what happened, you camp outside the door to his cell so he knows he isn’t alone.

bad match | @justreadingfics (18+)

bucky x reader

Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.

unbroken | @constantwriter85 (18+)

bucky x hacker!reader

Bucky isn’t happy about being paired with a snarky, untested hacker on a stealth mission to infiltrate Hammer Industries. But when the mission spirals out of control and they’re both captured, he finds out just how much heart his hacker has–and how far she’s willing to go to protect the lives of others.

if i only had a heart 1 2 | @chouettedubois (18+)

bucky x reader

Team Cap is back at the compound after being pardoned. Bucky is suffering from the shoddy work HYDRA did with his prosthetic. Tony brings reader in to fix it—and maybe help him find his heart in the process.

text me | @soap-bubble-nebula

bucky x reader

Tony and the other’s are off on a mission, and it’s up to you to help Bucky get comfortable and assimilate into normal life. He texts you because Tony told him he could.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #fic rec

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gucciwins · 3 years

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Frosty the Snowman

Harry and Y/N love the holiday season but Harry takes the teasing a bit to far and well Y/N decides to give it right back.

Word Count: 5126

A/N: hello! thank you so much to @goldenbluesuit for organizing this wonderful christmas fic challenge. thank you for allowing me to participate, kate. i’m so happy i got to be a part of it. merry christmas and happy holidays to you all. sending you all a big hug and lots of love.

_____

Christmas has never been much of importance in your life.

That was until you began dating Harry.

Harry and his family loved celebrating in particular because Harry was gone for so many months of the year. They loved giving gifts, and Harry loved spoiling his family. He was a true family man who loved to be doted on by his mother and teased relentlessly by his older sister. His smile never leaves his face when he's with them.

Ever since Harry found out how you spent the holidays alone drinking wine and hot chocolate on and off and binging all the best holiday movies. He declared that was not acceptable and that furthermore and until the end of time you would be spending it with him and his family.

The first year was something out of a storybook, a house full of kids and adults, Christmas music all day, and a big festive dinner. Gifts passed around, photos being taken to be added to the end of year scrapbooks. Lots of stories being told; honestly, it overwhelmed you.

Anne found you outside wrapped up in Harry's coat that you swiped before slipping out unseen. She stood next to you, overlooking her garden with you. "My son loves you; he's brought you here not to overwhelm you but to let you know that you have a family here, and you always will." You let your tears run free, feeling comforted, and loved. "I've never seen him shine as bright as he does when he's with you and when he's speaking of you. We all want you here as much as he does." Anne then pulled you into a long hug, the motherly hug you never got growing up. Reminded you not to stay out too long.

Three Christmases later, you now take part in family traditions, helping Anne cook dinner and staying in sweats and playing family games all of Boxing Day.

It's what makes your move to London with your boyfriend of four years easy. Knowing they want you there, knowing that the love Harry has for you won't fade, you've gone through many hurdles together, and it only strengthened your bond to one another.

Four years together, and you're still learning new things about each other, like Harry having to have coffee first thing in the morning, bread was a must-have always in the house, and that he owned more mugs than he needed. He picked up that you adored your shoes, meaning you wouldn't throw them out until they were ripped and beat up enough for a new pair. Also learned that you rather eat lots of fruit during the day than making food in the kitchen because it meant more dishes that would be needed to wash. You loved doing the laundry, Harry knew it was to steal his shirts, but he didn't mind. He always knew where to find them.

The one thing that really surprised him was your love for Christmas music; you knew every song, maybe couldn't remember the name, but you would be able to sing it. It never failed to make him smile; you even knew ‘Feliz Navidad’ and didn't butcher it as he did.

Your love for Christmas music was signified because you never celebrated the holiday, and music was easy to access. It was what you immersed yourself in.

This is why Harry is confused when he hears you begin to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ under your breath, then switching to a soft hum in the tune of the song as you start to place your freshly washed sweats in their drawers.

Harry was not sure why you did that; you loved singing out loud. You had a decent voice, as you liked to say, but why switch.

You're clueless to Harry watching you, deep in thought, trying his best to analyze you.

Then Harry gasps; it all clicks, making sense.

You raise your head to look at him, shutting the drawer with your hip. "What?"

"You don't know the lyrics." Harry accuses.

"To what?" You step towards the bed, wanting to finish the rest of this to finally go down and each lunch.

"Frosty the Snowman."

"I do." You defend.

Harry smirks, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"No."

"Why not?"

You frown before taking a deep breath and begin to hum the song correctly to Harry.

"Okay, you know the tune, now the lyrics." He gestures for you to go on.

"Frosty the snowman..." Your voice dies down, you rake your brain for the correct lyrics, sending a smaller prayer you're right. "had a shiny nose?"

"Oh, this is golden, love." He's laughing now. It's filling up the room.

"Harry," You whine.

"You call yourself the Christmas Queen." Harry is holding his stomach, his laughter getting to be too much. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't know the lyrics to 'All I Want For Christmas Is You.'"

"How dare you, that came out in our birth year." You're over making fun of you.

"Okay fine, but really so many years, and you never learned. You said you love all Christmas music, and well, that's a classic, dove."

You run a hand through your hair, your fingers getting caught on the tips for not brushing it out. "I never actually got to make a snowman, so I never listened to the lyrics."

"Are you secretly a Grinch as well?" Harry teases.

You throw a balled-up shirt of his and hit him square in the face; it quiets him down. "Conversation over."

You walk out of the room, leaving him alone, to his chuckling.

_____

In your home, something was always baking.

It was either Harry trying to better his last bread or you baking a new vegan cake that Gemma sent you.

It's something you both loved to do.

For you, though, it was your own form of meditation. No matter the time of day, if you felt your head spinning, you'd just head to the kitchen and begin to take out ingredients letting that be your only focus. The Great British Baking Show also brings a lot of comfort to you, Harry happily laying his head on your lap, your hand running through his hair as you just let the show play on and on.

Now, you're in the kitchen for a whole other reason; you're baking gingerbread cookies, from snowflakes to snowman and even little reindeer. Harry has invited friends over for a fun holiday decorating party. It sounded like a good idea until he left you to do it all yourself as he ran errands that he pushed off for a week.

Thankfully, there were no distractions during the time it took you to make one hundred cookies because there would be casualties during the decorating. Just as you were putting the last dozen on the cooling rack, does your phone ring causing it to cut off Paul McCartney's singing of 'Wonderful Christmastime.'

As you pick it up to answer, you check the caller id and see that it's Gemma calling.

Gemma forgoes a greeting and goes straight to the reason for her call.

"You don't know 'Frosty the Snowman!'" She exclaims more than asks.

"I'm going to kill him." You groan into the phone.

Gemma laughs, "No, no, please don't. Mum likes you too much to see you behind bars."

"Gem, he's been relentless." Thinking back to the past few days and how he'd randomly come up to you and just begin to sing the lyrics to you, not shutting up until you tickled him too much to continue. "Please don't let it come up later."

"I've got you," Gemma assures you.

"Thank you."

"As long," Gemma begins, but you groan jokingly into the phone.

"Go on," You sigh, knowing this is how the eldest Styles sibling acts.

"As long as you tell me what Harry bought mum for Christmas."

"Alright, fair." Very well, Harry would most likely spoil this himself the closer the holiday arrives.

Just as you were about to spoil Harry's gift, he walks through the kitchen, saved by the devil himself. "I'll tell you later when you get here." You tell Gemma, smiling at Harry as you bid his sister goodbye.

"Who was it, love?" Harry asks, kissing you lightly on your lips, being able to taste the gingerbread on your lips that makes him beeline to the cooled cookies.

"Gems, a huge birdie told her I don't know the lyrics to a popular song." You lean against the counter, smiling as he has a cookie in hand already; he is also a big reason you made so many.

"Hey," He says, offended, a cookie half shoved in his mouth. "I'm not huge."

"Never said it was you, hun." You smirk. "Thanks for fessing up."

He pouts, not liking that you outsmarted him.

"Might want to watch the cookies." You pinch his love handles, snatching what was left of the cookie from his hand and heading upstairs.

Harry watches you walk away, upset that you stole his cookie; also, he knows you love his winter gains.

_____

You and Harry are up fairly early, he likes to go on a run around the neighborhood, but you like going to the park. This morning you skipped your run because Harry was meeting up with a friend for breakfast.

Sure, you got up at your usual time at 7am and began to prepare yourself breakfast. You usually drank coffee with Harry and seeing as he wasn't here, you decided to skip it, instead going straight to the fridge to get the fruits and orange juice to make a smoothie. Something simple, not wanting to clean much after.

As you finally settled on the couch, getting ready to read Educated by Tara Westover, a book Gemma recommended to her then gifted to her. Tara's memoir is her story of how she comes from a Mormon background and recounts how she educated herself to go to college and learn about the world. It's a Friday, and what better way to spend it lost in a book.

You had just flipped it open when your phone rang, alerting you to a message. As much as you didn't want to check because you were finally in a comfortable position, you knew it could easily be Harry checking in who gets worried about not getting a reply even five minutes after. He's a worrier at heart.

As you retrieve it and settle yourself back down, not at all comfortable anymore, you see it's a message from Iz. She was the first friend you made on your own that Harry didn't introduce you to. Iz saw you at a coffee shop you began to frequent and complimented your tote bag that had wildflowers embroidered on it. You thanked her and shared you made it. Iz was shocked, just throwing compliment after compliment. You offered to make her one, but she said you had better teach her instead. Thus, a friendship began.

Her message read:

Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Listen in!

It was definitely a strange message coming from Iz, but you did as told.

Greg James was saying goodbye to his special guest, no idea who it was. "Before he signs off, he's going to play you one of his favorite Christmas songs," Greg says, then silences, allowing his guest a moment before speaking.

"This week's Christmas song is in honor of my girlfriend who loves singing Frosty the Snowman... without knowing the lyrics. Happy Holidays."

Your jaw drops.

That your boyfriend's voice. You are the girlfriend.

He went on record.

Harry really went on live radio to tell thousands that you don't know the lyrics to a Christmas classic.

You want to laugh because you never expected this from him and are annoyed that something personal now the whole world will know by the end of the day.

You can't wait until he arrives home.

"Harry Edward Styles!" You yell as you hear Harry open the front door.

He looks sheepish. "Yes, my darling angel."

"You told me you were having breakfast with Greg James, not that you were going to be on the Breakfast show."

"I took muffins, and they provided coffee, therefore, breakfast." Harry defends

"You exposed me to all of the UK to not knowing 'Frosty the Snowman.'"

"No one knows you're my girlfriend." Harry tries to brush it off.

"We've been dating four years; I'm not that much of a secret. Anne posts me on her story from time to time, and your friends follow my Instagram, fuck; you've introduced me to Greg." You're not angry, more annoyed than anything because he won't let this go.

"It's just to give everyone a good laugh; no one is going to hold it against you."

"No, just my boyfriend and everyone who listens to the Breakfast Show." You cross your arms before storming up the stairs away from Harry.

"Love? You're not actually mad, right?" Harry asks, pushing the bedroom door open.

"You even got Iz on it!" Your turn around with a pout on your face.

Harry laughs. "I honestly thought she wouldn't go through with it."

"Well, I see where her loyalty lies."

Harry steps close and pulls you into his chest. You sigh, wrapping your arms around him. He knows how much you love his hugs.

"I promise this is the last I mention of it."

You frown into his chest, not at all believing him. Harry pats your bum, and you take that as the queue to look up at him. He's smiling down at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck. "I promise."

"Okay, then." You lean in and kiss him, firmer this time and much longer. Harry sneaks his tongue in, instantly getting a moan out of you.

"I know how you can make it up to me." You gasp, pulling away,

Harry raises an eyebrow at you. "Do tell."

A smirk on both your faces as you guide him to the bed, very much hungry for something that wasn't breakfast.

_____

Harry has the Christmas playlist running; it's a Sunday, meaning they spend it at home doing absolutely nothing. To be truthful, they rolled out of bed past ten and still have their pj's on. Not at all bothering to change, why waste more clothes if no one will see them like this in the comfort of their own home.

You cooked grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and now are playing a game of scrabble.

Harry puts down the word 'light,' then reaching his hand into the black pouch to pick five letters to have seven once again. You are looking back and forth between the board and your letters, thinking of the best place to place your word.

"I've got a question," Harry says, looking at you, wanting all your attention as well.

"What is it?" You're focused on your letters. Rearranging them, not putting down the 'q' in your hand. It's currently useless but will eventually give you a word to win the game. Not that you both ever keep points, oh no, that stopped after you beat harry 120 to 66, and he flipped the board, causing letters to fly everyone. You still claim that there are missing letters.

"Frosty is a cute name."

"Reminds me of that Wendy's dessert. I'm still not sure what made it so good." You say, maybe you should get up and eat some. Harry did just pick up new flavors that he had been wanting to try something about them being richer in flavor.

"You're getting off track."

"Sorry, Frosty is cute for what?" You don't let him answer before you're speaking again. "A dog, did you get a dog?" You pause, looking up at him, "a cat, did Anne find a stray and wants to give them to us?" You wait, but Harry is about to crush all your excitement.

"None of that." He shakes his head at you, and disappointment fills you immediately.

"Well, can this conversation end then? I'm disappointed."

"Darling," Harry chastises you for not letting him go on.

"Go on then, mate." You gesture him to continue. Shifting your attention away from the game in front of you.

Harry frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in the sweet way that makes you want to rub them out until he's relaxed. "Why'd you call me, mate?"

"Oh, I've called you this before." You brush off Harry's reactions; he's always dramatic.

"I'm not your friend." He states.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head and really look at Harry. "Well, of course, you are boyfriend," You emphasize, dragging out the word. "You're my best friend."

"You can't say boyfriend anymore. I'm your fiancé now." Harry states proudly, but you feel a little dumbfounded, not knowing why he is saying that.

Your eyes widen when you look down at your left hand, and no ring rests on your left ring finger.

"Fuck, I missed your proposal, and the ring got lost." You pout, trying your best to stop the smirk from coming out.

"Darling, I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. "I'm still your boyfriend, but I will be proposing soon." He promises. "Shit, you were supposed to not even know. I really am bad at hiding things."

"Fuck, you really are." You laugh, "but boyfriend sounds cute. Can't I still say boyfriend when you do?"

"Doesn't fiancé sound nicer?" Harry tries.

You shrug. "Not as fun, husband is nice."

"You're rejecting my future proposal, then." Harry is teasing, and you can tell by the sparkle in his forest eyes.

"Of course not, you dummy. You can be my fiancé and my boyfriend." You tell him like it was the most obvious answer.

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Rude." You stick your tongue at him.

"Right, love, well try to remember I'm your husband once we're married, no more boyfriend."

"I will, hubby. You're going to be my hubby."

You both go silent.

You burst out laughing, "That's awful, I hate it."

Harry chuckles, nodding his head. "Yeah, I do as well."

"This is why I'm the brains in the relationship."

"Right," Harry rolls his eyes at you, not at all agreeing.

"Uh, darling, I went to uni and got two degrees while you only finished school at sixteen before going off to steal millions of hearts around the world."

"Including yours." He teases.

"I was always more a Zayn girl." You correct him.

Harry throws his arms up, "Can never let me win, can you?"

"Nope"

"We're off-topic." Harry realizing how far they strayed from their starting point.

"Where did we start?"

"Frosty."

You sit back, resting against the couch; you take him in and smile at how cuddly he looks in the purple robe that he stopped letting you use. "Well, go on."

"Seeing as-" He pauses, hearing the familiar opening notes to the song he was thinking of. 'Frosty, the Snowman' is now his favorite song. "Perfectly timed, as you don't know the lyrics to Frosty the snowman."

"Gosh, you're never going to let this go," You grumble.

"Nope. I figured we will have a little fun with this."

"More fun than the breakfast show."

He gives you a pointed look.

You let out a long sigh, "Let's hear it."

"You learn all the lyrics and sing it for me, and I'll let you get us a dog or cat." Harry's grinning at his idea, knowing you'll agree without a fight.

"Can we go to the shelter?" You look like a kid on Christmas morning who had just received their presents from Santa, and in a way, you have.

"Yes, we can. Only if you can learn the entire song." Harry tells you again, wanting to emphasize the singing.

"Done deal."

"Great, I'm giving you a week."

You smile wide, nodding, looking, finally focusing back down at your words and the ones Harry has placed. You put down the word 'queen,' and this wins you the non-official game. Harry looks down at his poorly hidden score sheet and curses under his breath.

"I win."

Safe to say you lost more letters that day.

_____

It's been a week, and Harry is patiently waiting on their bed as you get ready in your shared closet. Your shared closet is large and mainly holds all of Harry's clothing. You definitely have a nice share of clothes filled with gifts from friends as well as Harry's friends and your treasured thrifted pieces. You smile at yourself in the full-length mirror.

Harry really can't begin to imagine what you have in store for him.

The speaker is set out and ready, and all that is needed is for you to make your entrance.

You shake out your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the nerves. You look yourself over one last time before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open.

"Close your eyes." You call out.

Harry rolls his eyes but does as he is told.

You walk over to the speaker and press play, letting the music fill the room, making your way to stand in front of Harry, who slowly opens his eyes.

He gasps; he feels himself start to get hard. His eyes can't seem to take everything in fast enough. You smirk, loving the reaction you got out of him. It gives you the extra boost of confidence you were needing.

You stand there, hand on your hip in a sexy snowman outfit to go with the performance you are about to give.

The dress, if you can consider it with how short it is, has three black buttons in the center. The material hugs your chest nicely, giving Harry a nice view of your breasts that are close to popping out. The dress hugs your waist and begins to flow out right past your butt. You wore your favorite black heels that Harry sometimes begs you not to take off. You had on a plaid scarf and a black hat that matched it perfectly.

You were the human version of the snowman except for a more rated r version.

Harry is sitting his mouth wide open at a loss for words. You blow him a kiss before letting the song lyrics flow out of you.

Frosty the snowman

Was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

You sway your hips side to side, singing, enjoying the ravenous stare he was giving you. You throw the hat, letting it fall at his feet, but not even that breaks the gaze he has on you, not wanting to miss a single movement of yours.

Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say

He was made of snow

But the children know

How he came to life one day

You take a few steps forward, but never enough to allow him to touch you, and he's craving it; you know he is. His hands are gripping his thighs, his knuckles turning whiter by the seconds.

He still hasn't said a word. You have him mesmerized.

You sing the lyrics proudly, knowing you practiced all week for this moment. The moment Harry will never forget all the teasing he had been doing, always forgetting you win these battles.

There must have been some magic in that

Old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around

"Baby," Harry breathes out, putting a hand out to touch you, but you take a step back before he can do so.

You smirk, shaking your head no at him. You were having a lot more fun than you expected.

You bend over, slipping off your heels, never breaking eye contact with Harry; he could very easily see up the dress that you had nothing underneath. His green eyes turned dark, and you swore your heart stopped, and you were sure he was about to attack. You were the prey, taunting him until he had enough, but surprisingly enough, he took a deep breath, and his composure was back well, just a bit of it.

O Frosty the snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say he could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me

You stopped right in front of him. Harry's eyes trained on your red lips, hanging out to every word you were singing. You reached a hand back and began to unzip the dress. The grin on your face excited for the next reaction you were about to receive.

Once you reached the bottom of your back, the dress fell to the floor. Harry let out a loud gasp. Your breasts on display, the small owl tattoo on your hip staring at him, he could see how wet you were, and all he wanted was his head between your thighs as you screamed his name.

You were a dream. You missed Harry's touch. It was the reason you stepped close enough for him to finally pull you in.

He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard them holler "Stop!"

Harry has no expression on his face as he sits you on his lap. He lets his head fall into your next, feeling how wet you are through his thin sweats. You move to stand up, but he grips your hips tightly, thrusting his hips against yours, searching for some kind of relief or a reaction from you because you still haven't stopped singing.

"Baby, stop singing." His hand is cradling your cheek as his lust-filled eyes stare at you.

You shake your head, not letting him distract you. The only piece of clothing left was the scarf, and Harry lets out a growl before ripping your scarf off your neck, throwing it off to the side.

Now you truly sit there naked in his lap, and you feel all the control you have over him. The song is coming to an end, meaning you've got to remove yourself from your favorite place to sit but knowing you'll be back there soon enough.

Frosty the snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye, saying

"Don't you cry I'll be back again someday"

You sing the final lyrics in his ear before walking away to turn off the speaker, an extra sway to your hips, knowing Harry is very well still watching your every move. You stand a delighted look on your face as you wait for his praise.

"Those were the longest two minutes of my life," Harry says; he puts a hand over his heart, feeling like it might just burst out. "I'm never going to be able to listen to this song in public or around anyone that isn't you."

You smirk, thrilled to hear that.

"What did I do to end up with someone as beautiful and perfect as you in my life." He confesses.

"Probably stopped a war in a past life." You throw out jokingly.

Harry puckers his lips and makes grabby hands at you. "Kissy, please?"

And who are you to say no? He spreads his legs, letting you step in between. You slip your fingers into his hair, pulling back with enough force to have him let out a moan. You lean down and connect your lips in a hot kiss, one that has Harry gripping you tightly wherever he can get his hands on. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you happily give up the control to him.

You pull back and rest a hand on his chest, preventing him from pulling you back for you. You wipe your thumb over his bottom lip that now has some of your red lipstick. "Seems like I won, sweets."

"I feel like the real winner here," Harry tells you cheekily, sneaking a kiss to both your boobs. You giggle, not at all surprised by his action.

"Well," You fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Why don't you show me how winners celebrate?"

"With pleasure." Harry groans standing up quickly and pushing you back against the best. He strips as fast as he can, not without a small stumble; you're sure to keep your giggle quiet, knowing very well how easily he gets embarrassed.

He is quick to get on top and kisses you hard. His kisses are always soft, but it seems the teasing seemed to flip a switch, one that you will happily remember to look to turn on again on a later date. Tonight, you are ready for an endless night of pleasure and love.

Harry connects their lips, ready for an endless night of pleasure and love.

_____

Christmas cards were a lovely tradition. Harry insisted they started because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend to his friends and family. He also liked them handwritten because it added a nice personal touch. Who were you to argue about it?

This year you were the one excited to send them out.

It read: Merry Christmas from our beautiful family to yours

You and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, four stockings hanging behind you. Harry made you sit in his lap, wanting to show off your matching two-piece buffalo plaid pajamas. You both had the biggest grins on your face, eyes shining bright. Next to you, laying on top of a box that was wrapped with blue sloth wrapping paper, was a one-year-old Australian shepherd that had spent the better of six months in the shelter because the small pup was quiet who didn't do well with people, but that changed instantly the minute he met you. You decided on the name Frosty for him. Not only did Harry get you the dog of your dreams but a small kitten as well. You brought home Snow, a six-month white Birman kitten who was the rut of his siblings, and how could you just not bring him home with you with his big blue eyes staring at you begging to add to your family because he had lots of love to give. At least that's what you told Harry what the look he was giving you meant. The two siblings laid next to each other, both surprisingly staring right at the camera, making it their best Christmas photo yet.

A photo can honestly speak a thousand words because one glance at this photo tells you how much love there is in that home and their relationship.

Christmas was all about spreading joy and love, and well, Harry accomplished just that for you.

_____

thank you so much for reading! i honestly hoped you loved it and would love to hear what you thought so send me a message if you like.

i love you!

#harry styles #gbsxmaschallenge #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #christmas #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff

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notnctu · 3 years

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under the mistletoe | l.ty

lee taeyong x fem!reader genre - fluff, barely humor idk, very little bit of angst details - enemies to lovers!au, childhood friends that have been apart, high school!au warnings - explicit language, one mention of death, there’s a kiss scene lol word count - 2.7k synopsis - the holiday season brings a change of heart this year. you see your old friend, now enemy, Lee Taeyong at Mark’s Christmas gathering and through snowman shaped cookies, you two re-kindle your old friendship.

a/n - this is for @neoculturechristmas ‘s secret santa collab! this piece is dedicated to @soliverse :) hello lovie!! i’m your secret santa!! i hope you like it and im sorry that it’s not funny LOL thank you for letting me participate in such a fun holiday collab! im so happy to be able to write a fic for another writer:)

Through the heavily crowded Christmas party, through the people that dare walk in your way, you still see him in the midst of the chaos. Lee Taeyong stands only a few feet from you, in a ridiculous Christmas sweater and messy frosty hair. The universe is absolutely obsessed with placing you two in uncomfortable situations, as if the fuming feud between you two is not enough.

His absentminded actions cause him to foolishly knock over someone’s drink, what a fucking clutz. Rolling your eyes, you wander off in search of your good friend to announce your departure for the night.

“Already? Y/N, you got here like, five minutes ago.” Mark mixes the glass bowl that is filled to the brim with red sugary punch. Any forceful spin will have it spilling from the rim, and that won’t be the only mishap of the night that you witness. “What’s the rush? It’s Christmas Eve!”

And before you can utter the blacklisted name to explain your sudden change of heart, the culprit walks in with his stunned puppy eyes that grow sharp and a frown at your appearance. There is a small spark in the shared eye contact until it completely drops and he returns to ignoring your presence.

“Mark, where are your napkins? I spilled something in your living room.” It had to be a whole year since you’ve last heard his voice and you still remember his low cadence whenever he was trying to be cool. Cool and mysterious Taeyong, and how he lives up so perfectly to his title. However, there was a moment in time that you knew him for more than that. He was warm and comforting Taeyong.

While he tried so hard to be winter on the outside, spring bloomed blossoms on the inside and a bright sunshine radiated enough for you to witness its glow. You wished to stay with his spring for as long as you possibly could, but like the changing seasons, Taeyong eventually changed with it.

“It’s in the upper cabinet.” Mark does not realize the initial situation in the room, merrily going back to his large bowl of delicious liquid. It takes one big sigh from you for your friend to finally realize the elephant in the room and the unknowingly stiff tension in the kitchen. Mark’s eyes grow a bit bigger and as subtle as he tried to be, he clears his throat, “I think Christmas is all about joining together and being in each other’s company. Stay, Y/N.”

Mark did not choose his words wisely as Taeyong peeks over his shoulder, catching the last words of his sentence. “You’re leaving already, Y/N?” That is the first time he’s acknowledged you in the past few years.

There is an internal battle of whether or not you should acknowledge him back. Crossing your arms, you grumble something underneath your breath. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” Taeyong says sternly, making sure he asserts his nonchalant attitude. “Just sucks that Mark threw such a happy Christmas party for his good friend to leave.” He slings an arm around Mark’s shoulders, snuggling his face into the side of Mark’s chocolate colored hair.

And Mark dares to show a small smile of affection back. “Sorry that Y/N is always walking out on things. She does that quite often.” Before you can give him a piece of your mind, Mark shoves a snowman shaped biscuit in your mouth.

Taeyong gets away laughing, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride as he walks to clean up his other mess. You groan, biting the head of the snowman off and glaring at Mark. “Why did you let him get away with saying that to me? And when did you become friends with him again? And why are your cookies so hard?”

“Taeyong lost a friend, like a month ago. Just be a bit empathetic, please.” Mark wipes his hands on his apron and continues kneading at a random ball of dough. If it’s one thing that Mark always does too well is overachieving at his holiday gatherings. There is a reason why he’s head of the Prom Committee and student officer for event planning at your high school.

Washing your hands, the cold water bites at your skin. It’s been a really cold winter this year. When you dry your hands off, you scoot Mark over to make room for yourself to help with his endless amount of holiday treats.

“We’ve all lost friends, Mark. Sometimes people don’t work out with others and that’s just how it goes.” There is an underlying bitterness that does not seem to fade when you speak.

“Speaking from experience, maybe?” Mark chuckles, but dismisses the brief second of giggles to a more serious and low tone. “Not that kind of lost, Y/N. He lost a friend forever, like this person is in a forever sleep.”

The moment the words hit the air, a chilly draft sweeps at your ankles and you freeze in your place. And as you stand with dry flour on your hands and a person you thought you’d never become warm to again stands in the next room over, your heart softens at the information and immediate guilt preoccupies your system.

“Oh… well you should have started with that, then.” You slightly graze a finger across your nose at the faint tickle. Your mind is running at high speed, merely wondering about all the pain that Taeyong possibly felt this past month and remembering how it’s difficult for him to process his feelings.

“He actually wasn’t going to come tonight, until I mentioned you were coming.” Mark unloads a batch of fresh cookies from the oven and replaces it with another tray. The aromatics take you back to Christmas many years ago and the memory of Taeyong getting frosting everywhere you could remember. It took weeks to get the red and green stains out of the carpet, but the laughter made up for every clumsy mistake.

Not completely sure where the melancholic spirit erupted from, you rinse your hands and grab two cookies off the still hot tray without another response. Hurrying off, Mark yells out, “Wait-- those aren’t decorated yet!” but you choose to ignore his pleas.

Why is it harder to find him in a crowd when you are actually looking for him? Perhaps the saying, the best things in life come when you’re not looking for them, holds some truth to it. But your feet take you directly to him; he sits at the leather couch with the burning embers from the fireplace reflecting in his eyes.

Your abrupt appearance startles him a bit, but his face falls sullen when he sees that it’s you. Shoulders touching, you’ve missed the intimacy you two use to share. The blank snowman shaped cookie feels warm in your hand as you thrust it into Taeyong’s face. “For you.”

Taeyong scoffs, pushing your hand away lightly and looking away from the pitiful undecorated treat. “This feels like a trap.”

“No trap. Just a truce. Remember the time when I got upset at you for forgetting me in the parking lot and I told you the only way to fix it was to buy me food?” Your hand begins to drop, but Taeyong catches your wrist and takes the cookie from your possession. He gently places your hand back onto your lap.

“I know no other love language.” You explain the reasoning behind the old memory.

“Pretty sure food isn’t a love language.” Taeyong chuckles, like Christmas carols to your ears, he sounds like home.

“It’s not, but they all require me to be too emotionally vulnerable and you know how that makes me feel…” Your voice unintentionally trails off the end of your sentence. Does he still know how you feel?

Taeyong’s eyebrow raises subtly, catching your implication. “You’re still the same person you were three years ago?”

Three years, has it really been that long? You nod without needing to ponder the thought. There is a stark difference between change and growth. You are who you’ve always been, that is never going to change, but you’ve grown to be stronger and a little more independent.

“That’s not surprising.” Taeyong bites at his cookie, turning the figure in his hands as he stares off to reminisce about the past. He thinks about his pain. He thinks about his own self growth. “I’ve been thinking about you recently.”

The bold comment causes your chest to burn and your throat to grow a bit dry. Taeyong finally looks up at you, eyes dropping between your own and your lips. He doesn’t shy away from staring, taking in how much you’ve changed appearance wise since you two used to be friends. His eyelashes dance against his skin every time he blinked and the white strands of his hair fall around his crown like snowflakes.

“Why?”

“I learned how important it is to have friends around you. You never know when you’ll never see them again. The falling out we had should not have ruined the friendship we built for so long.” It’s difficult for Taeyong to continue with his feelings. It’s not a secret that he’s liked you since you two were close, probably half of the room is well aware of it. But there has never been a moment where he was out right too vulnerable to you, he was and is afraid of showing his feelings.

It’s an immediate body reaction when Taeyong leans in to you and you defensively back away. The confusion shows on your face very blatantly and his dreamy laugh rattles your bones. Taeyong’s hand softly caresses your cheek as his thumb brushes the tip of your nose. “You have some flour on your face.” This skin to skin leaves you speechless as his hot hand holds your cheek so delicately, making your heart race rapidly.

“Your Christmas sweater is ugly.” That’s all you can utter, out of pure panic too. Your eyes dip away and he retracts away from you, elbows on his knees as he leans forward and ducking momentarily to examine his choice of festive clothing.

He laughs, “it’s called an ugly Christmas sweater for a reason. It’s better than wearing a lame red sweater and calling it festive.” It’s surreal how quick things settle back into being the way that it used to be. As if the last three years of silence and constantly pretending the other didn’t exist disappeared. Taeyong is back, he’s yours again. And you hope that he’ll be by your side for longer than you had let him go.

“Red is not my color, I agree, but green is definitely not yours.” You joke back and Taeyong ruffles your hair, just like old times. The holiday spirit practically wraps its arms around you two. The holidays are really about being in each other’s warmth. In this very cold winter, you’re happy to have found an old flame that kept you from frostbite for many years.

“Y/N, we’re putting up the mistletoe.” An acquaintance interrupts you and Taeyong, quickly grabbing your arm to follow her. Your eyes dart between her and Taeyong. One thing you know no doubt about is that you aren’t leaving Taeyong alone again, so you take his hand without another second thought and drag him along with you.

You’re all ushered into the foyer and Mark is on a step ladder under the frame of his door. He notes Taeyong by your side and discreetly smiles to himself. He securely pins it to the wall and claps his hands together to gather everyone’s attention. “We’re going to blindfold two people and they’re going to have to kiss underneath the mistletoe.”

Your hands grow sweaty at the thought of such a risky game and immediately, you two let go of each other’s hands without realizing the clutching feeling of each other’s anxiousness. “I don’t think I’ll be chosen.” Taeyong mumbles to you as Mark and a few other people unravel the blindfolds. Nevertheless, he doesn’t sound very confident and you notice Taeyong’s shifty eyes.

“Right. Me either.” You shrug off, trying to hide slightly behind Taeyong’s stature. However, Taeyong instantly catches the uncertainty in your voice as well.

“Aren’t there four couples in the room?” Taeyong whispers over his shoulder at you.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes at his obvious thinking. “Yeah, but Mark isn’t going to choose a couple to kiss. How boring.”

Taeyong chuckles out of disbelief at your comment. “I’ll volunteer you if you want to really spice things up.”

And your eyes grow wide at his mischievous suggestion, pinching at his arm lightly. Underneath the fleece, Taeyong feels sturdy and strong. It’s only another reminder that you two aren’t kids anymore. “Lee Taeyong, do not. I don’t want to kiss anyone in this room.” That might’ve been a lie, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself that you are just a little curious how Taeyong might have matured.

“Everyone close your eyes.” Mark excitedly smiles and everyone obliges. You gulp the pooled saliva in your mouth, trying to manifest every possible hope that you aren’t chosen in this room of twenty people. Mark wouldn’t screw you over like that, would he? The more you pondered that thought, the more you believe that he totally would.

Then, you feel a hand on your arm and you’re being guided somewhere. A cloth covers your eyes and you’re quick to snarl, “Mark Lee, this is your only Christmas present. You get no more favors from me.” your cadence is only loud enough for him to hear and though you’re robbed of your sight, Mark’s boyish laughter says enough about his enlightened facial expression.

“This is what you get for trying to leave five minutes into my extravagant party I tried so hard to put on.” Mark sarcastically comments and pats your shoulders for a last indication of reassurance.

You hear footsteps in front of you and an uncanny presence of another in your close proximity. “Okay, everyone can open their eyes.” Mark cheers and it’s not like you can see much through the dark cloth that covers your eyes, but yours open anyways.

Gasps fill the room, slight hollering and cheering. The reactions cause an unsettling stir in your lower stomach. “Kiss!” and before you know it, the unknown person searches for your face and cups it gingerly. The feeling being very familiar to a scene before.

The both of you lean in and it’s difficult with the lack of sight, but people kiss with their eyes closed right? It’s not your first kiss, but also the sense deprivation is something different. When you tilt your head and go in for it, your noses bump together clumsily. You’re slightly embarrassed, your heart is leaping out of your chest from the sudden display of affection and you’re strangling Mark in your imagination.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, but there isn’t a response back. Instead, your partner dives in without any trace of struggle. Their lips glide perfectly with yours and it’s almost like you’re kissing snow. Any form of awkwardness melts away; their hand on your cheek feels natural and comforting. Your heart yearns for this sense of security as the same warmth from the fireplace embodies your chest.

When you two pull away, the room bursts into a loud chaos of cheers. Before you can take off your blindfold, you can feel everyone running toward the both of you to give you excited pats on your head and arm.

“I can’t believe that just happened!” Your friend’s voice can be heard in your ear. As you lift off the cloth, you see him in the midst of the chaos. Through the heavy dog pile of overly joyous people, Lee Taeyong stands a few feet from you in his ugly Christmas sweater, messy frosty hair and a pink hue across his pale cheeks.

He looks over at you and shyly smiles. “Hopefully that spiced things enough for you. Happy Holidays, Y/N.” He can barely process everyone else's excitement, but he feels joyous for once. After a long cold bitter winter, he feels warm.

“Happy Holidays, you big goof. Good to have you back.” You push at his arm, laughing happily at the ridiculously wide smile he has on his face. You’re glad to see Taeyong smile again.

#neoculturechristmas #nct-writers #kpopscape #neowritingsnet #neothestars #nct scenarios #taeyong scenarios #nct scenario #taeyong #lee taeyong #nct imagines #nct fluff #lee taeyong scenarios

248 notes · View notes

ourmiraclealigner · 3 years

Text

Easy CO. Holiday Reacts

Gif not mine! Credit to owner.

a/n: happy holidays everyone! i know everyone doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so if you don’t, no specific holiday is mentioned in this so everyone can read :)

warnings: none

taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mavysnavy @ivy-miranda-2390 @ya-yeeteth @rayofshanshine @primusk @punkgeekchic @inglourious-imagines @wexhappyxfew @vintagelavenderskies @easy-company-tradition @meteora-fc @teenmagazines @order-of-river-phoenix @contrabandhothead

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Richard Winters:

- When the holiday season rolls around, Richard can’t stop the excitement that arises in him.

- It’s not the gifts that excite him, Richard always tells everyone to not get him anything and that he already has everything he needs.

- He’s excited about the time that he gets to spend with you- decorating, cooking, and shopping for presents for friends and family.

- He loves the little break from work he gets, content with getting to sleep in, with you in his arms.

- He knows it’s time he’ll never get back, and he cherishes it more than any gift anyone could possibly get him.

- He finds himself happier than he ever thought he could be when he wakes up with you in his arms, protecting each other from the cold air that is just outside your mess of blankets.

- After a few minutes, he can’t stop himself from pressing light, fleeting kisses to your face, smiling when your eyes flutter open.

Lewis Nixon:

- Unlike Richard, gifts are a big thing for Lewis during the holidays.

- Since he grew up with a wealthy family, he uses his money to show his love.

- He showers you with gifts all month long, handing them to you with a smile, his hands sweaty with anticipation.

- “I know you mentioned wanting this a while ago, I just couldn’t find it anywhere until a few days ago. I’ve been looking all around.”

- He looks at you nervously as you unwrap the box, smiling when you realize it’s a book you had told him you were interested in reading.

- He wraps his arm around you as you thank him, pulling you into his side.

- “I’m glad you like it, sweetheart.” He mumbles as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Ron Speirs:

- Ron is indifferent when it comes to the holidays.

- He’s not overly excited or overly annoyed by the holiday cheer, he doesn’t care either way.

- He doesn't spoil your fun though, taking you to go see the lights in the city and in your neighborhood.

- You both get bundled up, hands intertwined as you walk around with smiles.

- He’ll kiss your temple whenever your face lights up, mumbling “You like this one? It’s pretty.”

- As you walk back to the car, he’ll unbutton his coat before pulling you into his side, wrapping his arm and half of his coat around you.

- “You’re so cold, baby, let me warm you up.”

Eugene Roe:

- Growing up with a big family, the holidays always meant chaos for Eugene.

- When he went away to fight, he spent too many away from home, experiencing a new kind of chaos.

- So, when you and Gene spent your first December together, he was shocked to find himself relaxed every night.

- He’d sit on the couch, exhausted and eyes half lidded as he watched you hang up the decorations and hum to yourself.

- “Come here.” He’d always end up mumbling, patting the open spot next to him. “I miss you.”

- When you did, he’d wrap his arm around your shoulder, leaning his head against yours as he let his eyes finally shut.

- “Let's keep the decorations up until after the New Year… they’re too cute to take down right away.” He sleepily mumbles, fingers rubbing soft patterns into the skin of your shoulder.

George Luz:

- George loves the holidays, and he’s not afraid to show it.

- Every year he goes above and beyond, coming home with more decorations than the year before.

- He’s always humming some sort of song as he’s working around the house, and even loves to help you in the kitchen.

- He’s always gently tugging on your waist after a few minutes, whining and begging you to slow dance with him.

- When you finally agree, his head immediately nuzzles into your neck as he softly sings whatever song is playing (somehow he knows them all).

- After a few songs he lifts his head, pressing a light kiss to your nose as he mumbles, “I’m so lucky I get to spend another holiday with you.”

- He’ll press a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away, stepping closer to the counter. “Teach me how to make these.”

Joe Liebgott:

- Joe tries to act like he hates when the holiday season rolls around, but deep down, he loves it.

- He’ll help you decorate, feigning a few sighs as your favorite record plays softly in the background. After some convincing, he’ll start a fire in the fireplace, your small, shared house cozy as his cat hits some of the decorations with their paw.

- “Joe, you really don’t have to help me.” You say softly, “I don’t want you to be miserable.”

- He feels his chest tighten, his cheeks flushing as he realizes how pretty you look as the soft light of the fire hits you.

- “No, no, it’s fine.” He responds, his tone gentle. “It’ll be quicker if I help, right?”

- You chuckle, knowing Joe was having a better time than he was letting on. “Right.”

- He kisses your cheek, hand lingering on your back before he mumbles “Let me help you with this..”

Don Malarkey:

- Don gets quiet during the holidays.

- December always brings back memories he’d like to forget, and he finds it hard to come back after he shuts down.

- But, you brought new life back to the month, replacing the sorrow and dread he felt with love and happiness.

- You prefer to stay in most nights, forgoing endless invitations to dinners and parties to be able to stay inside, exchanging small gifts and kisses as you listen to the radio.

- You stay wrapped inside of a blanket, pressed against his side as he runs his fingers through your hair most nights.

- He’ll quietly sing if he knows the lyrics to whatever song is playing, his deep soothing voice lulling you to sleep.

- And once he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll gently pick you up and carry you to bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek before slipping in next to you.

Chuck Grant:

- Chuck tries to be home a lot earlier than usual when December rolls around.

- Other months, he finds himself working later than he planned, always feeling guilty when he walks through the door to find you haven't eaten dinner, and were waiting for him.

- So, he makes a point to always close on time in order to be home as you start cooking, so he can talk to you and help you.

- You don’t do much for the holidays, opting to just spend it with your families when the days roll around.

- Of course, you’ll get each other gifts and drive around to see the lights, but nothing much besides that.

- Growing up, Chuck's family never did much for the holidays, so that was what he was used to.

- As you lay in bed, his hand running up and down your side, he’ll mumble “I love doing this with you..just you and me here, nothing to worry about.”

Floyd Talbert:

- You and Floyd are very seldom home or alone during the holiday season.

- You’ve both made a lot of friends, so almost every weekend you’re having dinner or at a party celebrating.

- You spend a lot of time and money on gifts for friends and family, and it seems as if you’re trying to figure out a new dish to bring to every party.

- He still tries to make the month special for you, making sure there’s a few days that you both can just stay home and relax.

- After a few years, though, Floyd gets tired of the constant get togethers, so you both decide not to attend anymore.

- You spend the nights at home, alone together, sometimes venturing into town to see a holiday movie.

- He prefers it this way, always telling you how much he loves being alone with you.

Shifty Powers:

- Shifty prefers to spend his time outside during the holidays.

- As soon as he gets home from work he’s changing into warmer clothes, wanting to get outside as quickly as possible.

- Any winter activities, you’ll end up doing.

- He loves sledding and building snowmen (even though it always ends up in a big snowball fight).

- You went ice skating once, but it ended in a lot of bruises between the both of you as neither of you could keep your balance.

- He prefers somewhere private anyway, as he likes to press kisses to your red nose to try to keep it warm.

- “You look so cold, baby..why don’t we start heading inside?” He’ll always say as the sun begins to set.

Bill Guarnere:

- December means lots of time with Bill’s family.

- It’s quite a stressful month for the both of you, trying to figure out what days to go to his family, what days to go to yours, what gifts you’re going to buy, what dish you’re going to bring, etc.

- Bill is hardly any help, he’s awful at relaying information between you and his mom and sisters.

- He tries, but always forgets by the time he means to tell you.

- He’s used to the holiday stress though, so he doesn’t let it cloud his joy.

- When he sees it start to affect yours, though, he does what he always loved to do as a child- go get candy.

- With a big smile, he takes you to the candy store he often went to as a child, getting a bag full of his favorites and new things to try, so you can both go home and enjoy.

Joe Toye:

- Joe is the only one that genuinely does not like the holiday season.

- He pretends it isn’t happening, and treats the whole month like it was just any other.

- He is clear about not wanting any gifts, and will get upset if you try to give him any.

- Of course, he’ll get you one or two, to try and show how grateful he is for everything you’ve done for him and how you’ve stuck by his side.

- But, there's no decorations, or baking, or strolls through town looking at the lights.

- After a few years, he loosens up, but still has no interest in doing anything except getting gifts and letting you make cookies.

- He’ll always apologize, though, feeling awful for taking away your fun, but hoping you’ll understand.

Babe Heffron:

- Babe’s excitement is up there with George’s, but is not quite as high.

- He loves it more than you, and will spend all month talking about how excited he is, and how much fun he’s having.

- He’s used to getting spoiled by his mother though, so he keeps bugging you to make all of these recipes his mother does until you give in.

- Babe is also constantly slipping and falling on ice, so you’re constantly cleaning and bandaging small cuts and scrapes.

- You swear he comes home with a new one everyday.

- Once you finish, he’ll always press a light kiss to your lips, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you.

- “Thank you for taking such good care of me, baby.” He’ll softly mumble.

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step-on-me-natasha · 3 years

Text

Blade; chapter 2

summary: Parker "Blade" Wiles, a high ranking SHIELD agent with an aptitude for sharp objects, goes missing. When Blade is found again with a darker and colder demeanor, SHIELD, with the help of The Avengers, are tasked with finding out what happened to their colleague and friend.

OC is ace and uses they/them pronouns

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x OC! reader (Blade)

warnings: knives, dead mom?? if anything else, let me know

RECAP:

“You are not gonna make it out alive” a voice came from the right of you. You pull out your swords and turn to the right. You gasp. “You’re a woman!” “Indeed I am. But, like I said earlier, you’re not making it out of this one, sweetheart” “Oh honey, they call me Blade for a reason, so you might not make it out alive.” “I highly doubt that” she said as she hit you upside the head, knocking you out.

*At the HYDRA base

“Blade!” Natasha called out. “Blade! I heard a loud thump and I don't know if you just fell or if you’re dead!” She gets no response. By this time, everyone's comms have gone out. Great. You’ve been knocked out and no one knows. Even better.

“Blade! Come on, this isn’t funny!” It’s not. Natasha starts searching every room on the way out of the base in search of you. She makes her way back into the room that she left you in. She's worked with you in the past, she knew you could handle yourself, so something bad has had to happen for you not to respond.

“Blade!” She was frantic, something happened to you and no one knows what. She starts to make her way back to the Quinjet, looking for you everywhere she can.

“Where's Blade?”

“Does it look like I fucking know Sam??” Natasha yells back. “I don't know! We split up! Okay, we split up, they were in one room, I was in the other! And then comms went out. And then they were gone. I don't know.” She says in one breath. “I don’t know.” She whispers.

“Okay, let's head home and figure out what happened and go from there.”

“What?! No! We can’t leave! What if they're still in there? Tony, if we leave and they’re still there, they could die.”

“Nat, if they aren’t in there, which they aren’t, they could already be dead”

“Don’t say that Tony! Don't say that.” She exclaims. They enter the jet, heading home, while Natasha plops down in the seat you sat in on your way there.

*Meanwhile at an abandoned HYDRA base

“Ya know, for someone as intimidating as you, I thought it would be harder to get you here.” fucking bitch.

“Ya know, for a bitch of your caliber, I thought it would be easier to take you out. I was wrong apparently.'' You sassed back. Of course you were wrong! You’re fucking tied to a chair, you dumb shit.

“Here's what's going to happen-”

“Nah nah nah sister, I am not going to do anything you tell me to do, that is simply, how I roll” you interrupt her. Nice way to set boundaries.

“I am not telling you to do anything” She replies “I am going to turn you into my personal-” “assistant?” “No! Let me finish!” She sighs, grabs a chair and sits down right in front of you.

“I am going to turn you into my very own winter soldier.” You scoff.

“That's dumb. It obviously didn’t end very well in the past.” She stares at you. “I mean, with the words and stuff too?” You ask. “Well, yeah” amatuer. “Dude, Bucky escaped and found his long lost lover and now they live together in happy gay paradise, fighting the people who wronged either of them in the name of justice.” #stucky forever.

“You are so stupid.” She sighs. “I am right though, you could give me that.” My goal is to be the most annoying person she has ever met, in hopes of returning me. I think it’s working.

“Fine, I won’t use words. I wasn’t going to anyways” Catfishing bitch!

She gets up and starts to untie you from the chair. Before you could make a run for it, she cuffs your feet. HAH HAH she forgot my hands! She then cuffs your hands, while you are distracted. FUCK!

“Where are we going? Because I'm not too sure we’re on the same page here.” You ask. “The lab.” The lab? Of course the lab! Why wouldn’t we be going to the lab?!

“Huh, the lab. Got it.” She’s basically dragging you down the hallway to the lab. You look like a mom and a toddler who doesn’t want to go somewhere, so they end up getting dragged. I feel so stupid. Maybe Nat was right. I do do stupid things.

“So, what's your name?” You ask the woman.

“You don’t need to know my name.”

“Pssh, why not? Is it bad?”

“It’s not bad.” She says.

“Is it like Bertha or something?”

“It's not fucking Bertha. If you really feel the need to call me something, then call me Madam” She finally replies.

“Kinky” You say with a smirk. EWWW NO. WHY DID YOU SAY THAT???

“Ugh, why did I pick this one?” Madam mutters to herself.

You get to the lab and immediately get strapped down to a table. This is a terrible way to die. I wish I could’ve gone out a cooler way, like, I don’t know, an avalanche could’ve taken me out or something. If you would’ve known this is how this mission ended for you, you would have faked a stomach ache like ferris bueller or some shit. As you lay there, spiralling into what you could’ve done to change this situation Natasha’s face pops up. If it wasn’t you who got kidnapped, it would've been her. That didn’t sit right with you. So, if you ended up dead in a place called “the lab” instead of Nat, then it was for the better.

“Why do you have this pout on your face? You seem upset” Madam asks.

“Now why would I be upset?” You retort. “I'm tied to a goddamn table, probably gonna die at the hands of HYDRA!”

“A new and improved HYDRA” She pressed. “The old HYDRA was a waste. Only using men. They saw what the Red Room did and were afraid of what a powerful woman could do. So they made it impossible for change, unless they were destroyed. And they were, which gave us room to grow. We aren’t HYDRA, we are MYST.” And with that, she left the room.

She wasn’t wrong about a powerful woman, FUCK. As she walks away another woman comes up to you.

“Hey, hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

“my job” She says as she pokes you with something.

“Ouch” you say drowsily “What was that?”

“Something to make you sleep.” She says and walks away.

Soon after you pass out and the team of scientists begin experimenting. They work for what seems like days, but in actuality, was only a couple hours. You wake up, in a cell, strapped to what seems like a hospital bed. A nurse, or what you think is a nurse is next to you and pushes a blue button. Seconds later, Madam buzzes into the cell.

“Awww, they’re up. How was your nap sweetheart? Get some beauty sleep?” She coos.

“Oh yeah, dreamed about fairies and unicorns.” You sass “what's your play Madam? I’m an Avenger-” She cuts you off

“That no one knows about.” You stare at her. “I chose you, not entirely because of your skills, but because no one knows who you are. You have been shielded from the spotlight your entire life, and with both parents dead, you were an easy grab. Sorry about your mother, by the way. It was a price I was willing to pay.”

“What?” You say breathlessly.

“Oh, you don’t know?”

“Excuse me? What don’t I know?”

''That accident wasn't an accident. We contacted her, Florence, about rebuilding HYDRA, with you as the fist, but she declined. She would’ve made some incredible improvements to our experiment, but she decided to keep you safe” She says in a demeaning tone.

“Keep my mothers name out of your mouth.”

“Oh don't act upset! You barely talked to the woman after you joined the god forsaken Avengers!” You stayed silent.

It was true. You didn’t talk to her that often after joining the avengers. You only really sent her christmas and birthday cards when the time came. But then she showed up. Saying bad people were after her. You got her a new home, armed with Stark Industries best home alarm system possible and got in the car. You were almost there too. You were 10 miles away from the home when a heavily armoured truck rear ended you so hard the car almost flipped. Then another truck showed up, only in front of you this time. You walked away from the accident. She didn’t. Told you run. To go back to your new, and loving family. And you did. And look where you ended up anyways. Tied to a table with a crazy woman who only wanted to be called Madam.

“Just because I left does not mean that she should be put in danger,” You said slowly, “She did nothing wrong.”

“That's where you’re wrong sweetheart. You see, your mother was a leading scientist in the Red Room before she escaped and wanted to start a family.” Madam starts,

“She wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.”

“Ding ding ding! Ten points for Blade! You are right! She wouldn’t do anything to hurt you! That's the problem! She kept you hidden for so long and so well that when you moved to New York to join the righteous group of heroes, she couldn’t protect you anymore! That's where I come into the picture. I'm doing the thing Florence Wiles could never do.” The room went silent. All the lab assistants stopped working. Everyone just stared at the two of you.

“Knock her out and put em’ under, I don't have time for this.” Madam barks and for the second time that day, everything went black.

#natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x ace!raeder #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow fluff #black widow x ace!reader #black widow imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x ace!reader

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hermitcraftheadcanons · 4 years

Text

Apartment AU Masterpost:

-Everyone lives in an apartment complex.

-Xisuma as landlord? Or just a really well looked up to person in the complex. Whichever works for you!

-Pranks all the time. Everyone's constantly pranking each other.

-Everyone has 'normal people jobs.' Perhaps Joe is an English teacher? (Cleo's also a teacher. (Irl.) Omg, what if they teach at the same school?) Maybe Bdubs is a professional interior designer? Maybe Cub builds computers? Go nuts, get creative.

-Actually, screw it. Bdubs works at IKEA.

-Everyone meets up every Friday night to go to the pub or go bowling or just do something together.

-They have a discord server because of course they do.

-European Hermits are early-birds, American hermits are night-owls. (This is the only way I can think to portray timezones and waking hours when everyone's living in the same building.)

-They all still love minecraft, don't worry.

-Keralis has so many books his flat is basically a library. He lets people come in and borrow books for a small fee.

-Tinfoilchef is a bit of a shut in but everyone makes an effort to include him.

-Etho would also be a cryptid like Xisuma. Like, we've seen Xisuma's whole body other than his face but the best we know about Etho is that: 1. He exists and 2. From the, like, one single real life photo he's shared, he broke a headset. Also, 3. Allegedly, he's buff. Otherwise; Beef and Etho invite Pause (who lives elsewhere,) over at random intervals to [play ctm maps] and do god knows what. Bdoubs works at IKEA but is the person to make the room displays, y'know.

-Scar sells dice and other tabletop rpg supplies that he designs. His shop is magiccrystals. com

-Cub and Scar made business with the guy who runs the fight club. They get half of the profits and everyone’s always wondering how those two can always afford the most expensive Christmas gifts for everyone.

-Mumbo could be an engineer or work on a STEM field, and he works on some really important and impressive projects and that would explain his polish person, Exept, when it comes to helping another hermit to change a lightbulb or fix a microwave he is an absolute disaster.

-Grian owns a parrot that knows everyones' names and faces and greets them when they come in.

-Scar's apartment has a balcony filled with plants and he has to bring them inside for the winter. (I'm assuming that all 4 seasons happen) Even without the balcony plants, his place is still full of indoor plants including his favorite venus flytrap. There is always a plant knocked over from Jellie's shenanigans. Jellie is supposed to stay in his apartment, however she keeps on getting out somehow, even getting to Xisuma's apartment occasionally.

-There's a grassy patch out back that acts as a backyard, but Stress has effectively taken it over. Perfect for flowers of all colors in the spring and summer, and during the winter you KNOW she’s building an ice castle from which to throw snowball at all her friends.

-Beef and, when he’s visiting, Pause get a lot of questions about Etho (since unlike X who gets one tightlipped visitor in shape of his brother Etho gets two that are willing to be vague) however they charge a fee for people to guess. They’d never actually sell him out but the guesses are always something technical related so there’s not much of a risk, he actually works as a botanist/gardener.

-Iskall is extremely good at ice hockey and, as resident Canadians, Etho and Beef have played with him. However Iskall only knows that he’s played with Beef because both beef and etho refuse to tell him who in the rink was Etho when they played.

-The only person who’s seen Xisuma's face is Keralis.

-Nobody knows what Grian does for a job. Like, when they think they've figured it out what he does, they're thrown through a loop again because he does a lot of odd jobs. Need help with a pet? Grian can help! Rip on your clothes? Don't worry, Grian knows how to fix it! Ect.

-Grian's an assassin. Iskall will make assassin jokes and Grian, without looking up from his coffee will go: "that's not how that works!" And then go back to being quiet. Everyone's like ????

-I love the idea of Grian knowing all these cool facts and when anyone acts he says 'it's because of his job,' and they still can't figure out what he does. He keeps correcting Iskall on assassin facts but they're all just like 'oh Grian sure must love those types of movies, huh.'

-Cleo teaches Joe's kid. (That means she teaches either year 2 or year 3? // 1st grade or 2nd grade?)

-Grian's family is in the mafia but he mostly just vibes. Sure, he works with the mafia, but he keeps his regular life away from work and none of the hermits (besides False because she saved the Mafia boss) know. Imagine boss looking at False and going, 'oh hey, you're already protected.' False is confused and says 'what?' But the Mafia Boss has already left.

-Etho is always in full kakashi cosplay.

-Honorary hermits apartment au: zloy and pixl have a radio show but also act as private investigators. Falsie hires them to investigate how she got the protection of the mafia. On their investigation they start asking Elybeat (that lives on a building right next to the hermits) about weird behaviors that he might have seen. Ely just goes ‘all of what they do is weird. I’ve recorded weird stuff they say and remixed it. They though it was funny and put the remixes as their elevator music.'

-Everyone thinks Etho is an assassin, but really, he's a horticulturist/botanist. He doesn't bother to correct them cause it means he doesn't get pranked, (or, as often.) Maybe someone finds out eventually? I don't know who. Maybe Doc and they keep it hush hush cause they think it's funny or something. || Maybe Bdubs finds out, (because I think he's seen Naruto?? Swear I saw a Twitter post where he recognized a Naruto joke) and he's the only one that recognizes that Etho's dressed like Kakashi and NOT an assassin. (That's lowkey a joke though.)

-Someone warns Grian against parking euro because they think Etho's an assassin and Grian just kinda goes: "alright then." Knowing that there's no way Etho is an assassin, but also realising how the hermits view that profession, he most likely starts feeling kinda bad.

-Beef used to be a car photographer and Mumbo takes photographs as a sideline when he was in college. They would occasionally chat about their past experience in the photography field and sometimes gush about cars.

-Hermit Challenges was actually a truth or dare game among the hermits. Mumbo was basically delirious from lack of sleep to explain his absolute gremlin energy. Mumbo dares Grian to steal front doors before passing out and everyone decided that was the end of that game. No one thought Grian would do the dare. A week later, everyone but Etho and Xisuma were missing their front doors (including Grian.) He stuck them in his bathroom so no one immediately saw the doors.

-As already established, Joe constantly hangs at Keralis's library. Let's say he also has a hobby for writing, and one time he was asking to himself how *insert really specific murder scene* would work in real life. Grian or Doc then overheard him and answers him in a also very specific way, he thanks them with 0 concerns and continues with his writing.

-Etho has been an assassin but it was many years ago, and retired to care for plants. (As you do.) He got hired by The Goatfather but intentionally botched the killings because, 'hey now those two are friends >:(' He and Bdubs still have the endrod game but it involves the whole apartment building and several discord messages going "located" or "flashlight on the move.'

-Stress paints all the hermit's door and puts their names on them. (-🌿)

-The organisization Grian works for is called "The Watchers!" They text him in riddles of what his missions are. This is so that if anyone peaks at his phone, they don't understand immediately!

-What if in YHS happen because of grian family and Sam is from an other family who does not support the grain family. So grian will not bring up high school and school and when joe and Cleo talk about there student grian sometimes cringes remember what happened in high school. (-🌿)

-Grian and Mumbo's hobbits holes were two cupboards they found on their respective apartments and decided to make a room out of them and named them their hobbit holes after they found out they both had them (-🐿️)

-What if it's a really old apartment and the 'hobbit holes' actually connect to each others apartment. (-🐺)

-Mumbo has these periods when he overworks like crazy and when they're over - he sleeps for like 24-36 hours straight. Everybody knows about this and help him if he falls asleep in random plaxes around the apartment. Mumbo once fell asleep right before his door and Grian tried to help him get inside while mumbling. Guess which remix were aded to the elevator music next week.

-Whenever anyone is annoyed or upset, grian sometimes pops his head up from his book and goes "who do I need to kill?" No one takes him seriously though he *would* kill for any of his friends.

-People who have left the server work nearby but have moved to new apartments. (For example, Welsknight works at a nearby food truck) (-☘️)

-With the Grian being a spy you get several oints where he thinks he's been found out but no one puts the and two together. They're all like: "Grian just likes action movies I guess."

-Scar's "wizard robe" is a bathrobe he owns. One day he forgets to change and just walks out in a bathrobe and no pants.

-Since Cleo teaches Joe's kid, maybe that extends to all the hermits' kids? Like the ones that have them, like not at the same time but at some point you know?

-I don't think I saw any regarding headgames, but I could've missed it. Anyways, what if Cleo wanted to make a big Scrapbook in her free time of all her friends, so she asks everybody to try and get pictures. So the PVP heads are candid photos, and the tradeable one are like selfies or group pictures. The other heads could just be a requirement for the picture like have a sheep in the picture. And maybe she gives the winners dinner payed by her or something.

-On the head cannon that hermits that aren’t on the server work nearby, Biffa is the actual mayor.

-Are mobs (and half mobs by extension) still a thing in apartment au? Cause if not I propose that Jevin just has cloob blue dyed hair and a bunch of blue tattoos.

-XB bakes a lot and always shares the food he makes with the others. They adore his cookies. Scar really wants to make some cookies in the shapes of disney characters with him, but he's too shy to ask. (-nameless anon)

-Perhaps Mumbo and Iskall are also protected by the mafia because of grian (perhaps scar is too) They and False have a 'we are protected and have no idea why' group (-Frost Anon)

-Imagine the hermits want to throw a nice party but X and Etho were kinda like “yeah no i’ll pass” so they make it a masquerade so that they can come- and then the whole night no one knows who anyone really is, but still has a really good time.

-Grian wanted a pet parrot, but felt like he would be terrible at taking care of one so he has toy parrots instead, those that have pre made phrases and such, and he is proud of his toy parrot pets. (-🐿️)

-Xisuma hosts a podcast! That's where all of his Xisuma speaks content ends up coming from. (-🇵🇭)

-Etho has a secret food blog called "Cooking With Etho" (based on the actual cooking with Etho segment in usually his modded stuff.) He also knows that there's hermits that either: have no idea how to cook properly or can't cook real meals due to their work. To help with this, sometimes he leaves finished meals or recipes with them (outside their doors or somehow in their fridge) and no one knows who does it prompting the theory of a self care ghost haunting the building.

(All of those in red were from Anons!)

-Joe works as a LAMP Developer.

-False has an assortment of swords, knives, etc. She even had a bow! She also has a dummy to practice fighting on.

(-@unpredictable-pancake.)

-Stress is a wedding designer. (-@the-angry-numel.)

-Iskall also works at IKEA with Bdubs. (-@mandatedempathy.)

-There's a local club that's basically fight club a few people are in. False, Iskall and a couple others are in.

-Hypno is kind of a bit of a loner. Everyone on the floor considers him a friend but he doesn't really have a best friend. He just does his own thing and people usually let him do that. He's fine with it.

-XB and Joe spend a lot of time at Keralis' library house just reading the books. Keralis usually charges every except those two because 1. They're there so often and 2. They're basically his room mates at this point. (-@tomcatacaphe.)

-Ren works at a bar as a bartender or musician. (-@friendlyneighbourhoodpieceoftrash.)

-Building on the last thing with Ren as a musician or working at a bar, he works at a bar as a server but does live music on weekends. It's the bar/pub/restaurant that the hermits sometimes hang out at together.

-I can see Grian working at a pet shop but also on the side of the mafia because of YHS. Or at least he used to be involved with the mafia.

-Beef once had to cart Etho off to the hospital for a chemical burn and explain to the other tenants that the explosion heard suspiciously close by wasn’t mafia activity. Etho is just an idiot with a hobby of making homemade fireworks.

-(-@limelocked.)

-False is the chief of police for the town they live in. Iskall is a hired assassin who normally gets employed by the mysterious figure GOATfather. Doc is the GOATfather, head of the mafia. Falsie is trying to hunt down these two as well as any others associated with them. The nHo is part of the mafia. Falsie has no idea any of them are in the mafia and they refuse to kill her because she has become such a close friend to them.

-Maybe Grian is a spy instead of an assassin? The group the Watchers is a government policing organization bent on trying to crack down on mob activity in the area.

(-@creator0fchaos.)

-The elevator music is hermitgang and remixes. -(@lookitsspacekween.)

-Zedaph is a game show host. Tango makes cartoons. (-@aphion-and-on.)

-Come on, let Iskall play ice hockey! Maybe not professionally if it doesn't work for the AU but he's v good at least. (-@automnalsaffron.)

-Grian maybe works at an animal shelter or an animal rehabilitation center. So everyone who has a pet usually comes to him for help if their pet is sick or injured. (-@vahco.)

-Grian has a safe full of guns, all the Hermits know about it but think they're fake. (-@xxpzmistxx)

-X never comes out of his room so no one’s seen his face. The only way he communicates is via text, Discord, and an intercom right by his door. He almost always gets groceries whenever the hermits are busy and therefore have no time to go out- but the hermits know he’s a real person because sometimes they hear guitar solos coming from his room.

-Hypno is a voice actor!

-Joe and Cleo often go home at the same time, and all the way it's almost always Cleo complaining about her students being bratty and the likes (Bonus points if Joe carpools with Cleo, who owns a car.)

-False unknowingly helps the boss of the mafia after seeing him wounded on a street one day, earning her their protection.

-As a callback to Season 6, Stress became a cat lady for a bit while False became a dog lady. As an added bonus: Cleo became nuts when Cub decided to gift her with spiders for her birthday or some other event.

-Mumbo still sidelines as a cameraman/film director for short documentaries and comedy sketches where he often invites Zed and his buddy Jack to act maybe?

-The first time X was proven to be an actual person was when the girls temporarily kicked the boys out to have the apartment all to themselves for a girls’ night which prompted the boys to have their own boys’ night. X was wearing his grey helmet that night so his face was still obscured tho, and from that day forward they always had a weekly girls’ night and boys’ night alternating on which group gets to have the apartment to themselves.

-False may seem like she can take a shot or two, but in reality she’s very lightweight and easily drunk, and is always the first one wasted. She becomes a flirty drunk who flirts with everyone and everything when she’s tipsy, an angry drunk the more she drinks and eventually a sad drunk before passing out. Cleo and Stress, her drinking buddies, always find amusement in this.

-As a callback to Xb living a thousand blocks away from society in s7, maybe he lives at the highest floor where not many (if not no one) occupies?

(-@heyitsroby.)

-Civil War started because they used to get groceries delivered to their doors and Grian started stealing them when they were left in the doorstep. Everyone stole each others groceries until one day they went into teamss of one side vs the other side of the corridor to the other until Grian stole so many groceries Dic was like 'Dammit!' He started going to the store to get groceries instead of getting them delivered to his door after that. (-@sayeshaa1108.)

-Regarding apartment au: Zedaph is similar to miu iruma from danganronpa: making the weirdest inventions and coaxing the other hermits into doing weird things for science. (-@oh-hecc-im-stupid.)

-Idk if Doc has a profession yet in the apartment au, but it just struck me- what if he owned a private casino?? Cause of s7? Just a thought! (-@853dragons.)

-Cleo really enjoys doing miniature diorama scenes. Like the tiny dudes from "Night at The Museum". She's like crazy good at it, and Joe will sometimes base his poems and stories off of her dioramas. Also maybe Joe has published a book of poems and short stories? (-@lynxes15.)

-Doc works as a social engineer and part time mafia boss. He rarely shows up for game nights. However, when he does, nobody else stands a chance.

-Tango, Impulse and Zedaph go over to each other's rooms so often they practically live together in an apartment room 3X bigger than everyone else.

(-@trashedeggnog.)

LINK TO NEXT POST: https://hermitcraftheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/617640752709861376/apartmentau-masterpost-2-link-to-previous-the

Posts with TW:

Guns, Gangs, Getting Shot. Don't read if you can't handle this topics.

-Everyone finds out Grian is an assassin/mafia boss because someone from a different gang (*cough cough* sam gladiator *cough cough*) found out where he lives and tried to murder him. Queue epic gun fight scene. If you want some angst, Grian gets shot a couple of times in the fight but didn’t realize it because of the adrenaline and passes out. (-Anon.)

-Imagine someone like, finding Grian's guns and weapons and just being :0 and Grian is a little nervous. But then the other hermit just think the guns are cool (it's probably either etho or doc) and they're just gushing over how cool the guns are. Grian is relieved. (-Anon.)

-iJevin owns at least one gun. He's not in the mafia or a cop or anything, it's just cool and legal so he as one. He's the constant counter for the other gun owning hermits who have them for more mafia related purposes (context: jevin owns at least one gun irl) (-Anon.)

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kitkat1003 · 3 years

Text

Tower Tales

6: I’ll be home for Christmas....you can count on me...

AO3 link

@asilcorner

(also recorded myself singing the song in this chapter, listen here!)

Their first Christmas in the tower is on the horizon, and while they try to remain optimistic about it all, it’s hard to be happy when you’re living in a prison.

Yakko, as usual, is shoving down his own sadness with ease. Wakko watches, with sharp eyes behind the veneer of dull suspicion, as Yakko cheerfully pulls out a Christmas tree from nowhere, has them all put up the ornaments one by one, instead of just throwing stuff on there. To elongate the process, perhaps, to force them to focus on the action rather than the lack of an escape.

Wakko sees, sometimes, Yakko’s eyes dart to the water tower door. He hears, at night, Yakko, going to the door and trying to wrench it open. Some nights Yakko spends hours, sometimes minutes, and sometimes Wakko hears Yakko stop, sit, and cry into his knees. He’s very quiet, but so is the tower, at night, and they have terribly good hearing for toons.

Yakko’s always smiling in the morning, with breakfast. Wakko worries.

The first few months after they’d figured out them being locked up wasn’t some prank, they’d thrown anything they could at the door to try and get out. After they’d ran out of ideas and materials, they’d quit, because it was more depressing to try, hope, be constantly disappointed than just to forget.

Or try to forget. Wakko guesses that Yakko can’t.

And Dot isn’t exactly thrilled, either. Wakko thinks she misses the outside more than she lets on. He vaguely remembers her, on days they felt like wreaking havoc would be boring, taking them on a picnic. The stock market hadn’t crashed yet, and then it did, so they didn’t have a lot of money. They did have the ability to steal, but even then they didn’t do it much because it wasn’t fun or right to steal from people who were already going bankrupt.

They’re mischievous, not cruel. Wakko wonders if the people who locked them in here knew that difference.

“What are we gonna do for Christmas?” he asks one afternoon, during lunch. “Do you think Santa can get in here with the door locked?”

The question has Dot suck in a sharp breath. She looks away, upset, and Yakko gives him a look, the one he gives whenever Wakko says something tactless.

Wakko doesn’t have a lot of tact. He thinks he might’ve eaten it, whatever it is.

“Santa can get in anywhere,” Yakko replies, hands on his hips, confident. “And we’ve been pretty good, despite the circumstances, so I think we’ll be getting plenty of presents from him.

That’s something that Wakko worries about. Presents. What is he even supposed to give his sibs that they can’t just create with toon powers? Making cards seems lazy, even if he would put all his effort into them.

Yakko, he’s sure, already has an idea. Because Yakko is smart. Dot probably has them figured out too.

“I thought you were off Santa’s nice list,” Dot says with a grin. “You know, for being a hypocrite?”

“I think he’ll find it in his heart to forgive me this year,” Yakko shoots back, hand on his chest, before standing up to put his plate in the sink. Wakko will lick them clean with his tongue, and Dot will put them in the dishwasher, and one of them will put them away when they’re done depending on when it finishes. They’re efficient, kind of.

“Should we decorate?” he asks, because so far they only have the tree, and the tower looks a little barren.

Dot’s eyes sparkle at the idea, and Wakko knows he is going to regret asking.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

By the end of the next day, the whole tower is put together, tinsel and twinkling lights that flicker hanging from the walls and ceiling. Dot puts mistletoe over every doorway they’ve made, and every time they happen to be beneath it, she makes sure they either give her a kiss on the cheek or she gives them one.

Yakko thinks it’s cute, if silly, and Wakko just shrugs it off.

They make a fireplace, with a chimney that they aren’t sure goes all the way through. Wakko tried climbing it, but halfway up he found himself shot back down, rolling across the floor covered in soot.

He couldn’t even try and argue to not take a bath that day. Yakko had dunked him in and hadn’t let him out until the black stopped coming off on Yakko’s gloves.

His hopes for Santa visiting are dashed, and he can see Dot deflate too.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko mutter, and Wakko wonders.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dot is very, very sure that this Christmas is going to be great. She knows it is, despite the fact that they don’t even know if Santa can come see them, despite the fact that they won’t be able to go anywhere to see snow, despite how the world around her wants to tell her it won’t be.

She will spite that because she refuses to let anyone take this season from her. She and Yakko and Wakko start a food fight in the kitchen when making cookies, and cookie batter splatters all over the wall. Wakko ducks behind the kitchen island, with her, and holds out his hand.

“Truce?” He’s wearing an army hat, comically large on his head, with the straps hanging down past his shoulders.

If she wasn’t astronomically cute herself, Wakko might give her a run for her money.

“Let’s give our brother a wet new coat,” she agrees, and Yakko becomes the color of cookie batter in seconds.

“Betrayal! By my own siblings no less! Is nothing sacred?!” Yakko cries, leaning heavily against the stove with the back of his hand placed dramatically against his forehead. Dot and Wakko giggle, coming around to face him.

“I don’t know, I think this is a good look for you,” Dot gives him a once over and hides a laugh behind her hand. Wakko reaches out a finger and swipes a bit of the batter off of Yakko, sticking it in his mouth to taste.

“Mmmm,” he grins, and Yakko gets a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“You know, you’re right Dot! I ought to share my new looks with you, don’t you think?” he reaches out and sweeps them into a goopy hug before either of them can escape, and all three of them share the wealth of the batter that was supposed to go in the oven.

Dot takes a bath, then Yakko does, and Wakko licks himself and the kitchen clean. He’d offered to lick them clean, but they politely declined.

“Slobber just isn’t a good look on me,” she’d told him, and Wakko had shrugged and eaten the demolished mixing bowl.

After that, they actually make cookies, because as tasty as the batter was to Wakko, they might want some warm, chocolatey goodness.

They make milk-free ones, too, even though Yakko says they don’t have to, because they want him to have a good time too.

Besides, the cookies taste fine without milk. Who needs lactose?

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That night, Dot is sitting at her vanity, and she looks in the mirror and is ever aware of the background of cold metal. The decorations look gorgeous, she put them up, she did everything she could to make the Tower become the season she loves.

(Well, she technically loves the spring the most, with its gorgeous flowers and sunny days for picnics, but still. Who doesn’t love winter? It has Christmas! And, now, it has Yakko’s birthday!)

But, even with all the decorations and fun, even with the mistletoe and the letters to Santa she can’t send, she feels...

Miserable.

She wants to go outside. She wants to play in the snow. She wants to harass street carolers by messing with the lyrics of their songs. She wants to be out there, with people, in the world, instead of sequestered away.

She sighs, remembering a tune from their previous Christmas.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow, and mistletoe,

And presents under the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me,

Where the love light gleams...

She trails off and sighs again, resting her arms on the vanity, and then her head on her arms.

She doesn’t notice the figure peeking from the third floor, frowning down at her in concern. Doesn’t notice the lightbulb appear over his head, before he ducks back upstairs.

She just sits there, thinking of the last time she saw a single snowflake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko locks up the third floor, a week and a half before Christmas.

When they ask, he tells them it’s a surprise. Because it will be. He finally knows what his gift for them, for Christmas, will be, and he can’t let them ruin it, because he really wants to see the pure surprise on their faces when they witness it.

He spends the days up till Christmas Eve working on it, finishing it Christmas Eve morning after breakfast and before lunch. He’ll have to double check it before showing it to them, but that’s fine. It’ll be about ten minutes security and then he can show them the magic he has in store.

Dot has swapped out her typical character modeled dress for a long sleeved one, with white fuzz trim on the hem and where the sleeves end. Yakko has a pair of deer antlers, and keeps calling himself Rudolph, whoever that is. Yakko says it’s going to be a hit a few years from now.

Wakko just puts on a Santa hat on top of his baseball cap and calls it a day. Dot calls him lazy, and he shrugs, cause that’s a fair assessment.

Christmas Eve is as fun as it is weird, because they don’t have anything anywhere to do to celebrate, but they cut out little paper snowflakes and angels to hang up and then watch and see how much eggnog Wakko can chug at once.

The answer is around 6 gallons, give or take, because Yakko capped him off there, worried.

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dot snickers, and Wakko tilts his head to the side with a hiccup.

“Isn’t a male chicken a cock?”

Yakko laughs.

“Goodnight everybody!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They meant to stay up, but they’re kids, so they fall asleep eventually. Wakko, kicking and squirming in bed, because even asleep he can’t stay still, wakes to the sound of frantic whispers.

“Please, just-just for tonight,” Yakko’s voice is quiet and pleading, and when Wakko blinks away the sleep from his eyes he turns into see Yakko, standing in front of Santa, hand gripping Santa’s coat.

And Wakko doesn’t have the time to process the fact that Santa is here, and real, because Yakko keeps talking.

“Please-just take them out, I’ll stay inside. We-just for the night, just let them see the sky again, some snow, it’s been months, please,” Wakko can’t see Santa’s face, but he does see the shake of his head.

Yakko’s voice cracks when he speaks.

“Just one ride? They’ll be good-I-,” Yakko pauses. “Okay, maybe they won’t be, you know them, but I’ll make sure they are, okay? They-they don’t deserve to be locked in here. It’s Christmas, so just for tonight-please.”

There’s something so young about Yakko’s voice, then. Yakko doesn’t sound like a kid, sometimes, and Wakko doesn’t always either, but for him it’s for laughs and for Yakko it’s because he’s tired.

Santa says something, puts a hand on Yakko’s shoulder, and Yakko deflates. Wakko doesn’t even notice that there are new presents under the tree yet, because he’s too busy trying to be quiet enough to hear.

“Just go,” Yakko’s voice is hard, and quiet, and cold, and sad. Santa pulls another present from his bag and sets it beneath the tree, and disappears up the chimney.

Wakko watches Yakko tremble in place, for a good two minutes. He counts the seconds in his head, because it feels like they go so slow. Yakko finally stops, takes in a deep breath, and sighs.

“Who needs the guy, anyway,” he hears Yakko repeat, and he pretends to snore as Yakko walks back to bed, and buries his face in the pillow.

It takes a long time for him to get back to sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Wakko wakes up on Christmas to the smell of peppermint hot cocoa at the crack of dawn-at the very least, it feels like the crack of dawn, because it’s earlier than he’s woken up in a while, but the elation of Christmas!!!! has him up in an instant.

There’s a large stack of presents beneath the tree, their names written in pretty cursive of the same handwriting. Dot is all cheer, and he watches her skip towards the kitchen. He shuffles over himself. Yakko sets two cups of hot cocoa on the table, and swirls the top with a large helping of whipped cream, before sprinkling some peppermint on top.

“Merry Christmas, sibs,” he smiles down at them, and it almost makes Wakko forget about the night before. “My gift to you is your menu of choice. The whole day, a la carte menu. Whatever you guys want, I’ll make. So, what’s for breakfast?”

Wakko’s eyes are blown wide. Yakko has no idea the can of worms he’s opened with that open ended gift. Or, maybe he does, because he puts on a chef’s coat and hat, and sets up the stove, and a grill, and the oven.

“Bring it on, little brother. But, uh, let me make Dot’s first? Something tells me hers will be a biiiiit quicker to make.” Wakko bites his tongue at that request, and Dot prattles off a normal order, because she’s boring.

By the time Yakko is done with Wakko’s order, he’s out of baloney in his slacks.

“I’ll put some more in there later.” He shrugs it off, and Wakko finishes off plate thirty seven with a grin.

After that, they open up the presents under the tree. Yakko gets some notebooks, a set of fancy pens, and a very expensive looking leather belt. He also gets some books, and a perfect replica of a Shakespearian outfit.

He seems happy, but his smile is strained. Wakko thinks he knows why. Yakko is getting better at hiding it, though, because he almost didn’t notice Yakko was sad at all. There’s still a trace, though.

Wakko wonders if he’ll start forgetting to look for that.

Dot gets the latest model of hair straightener and curler, and a wide breadth of makeup products, as well as a poetry book that she regards with half suspicion and half curiosity. She gets a notebook and pen, too, one with a feather plume sticking out the end. She uses it to brush underneath her chin, giggling.

Wakko gets some chew toys, some that he doesn’t see himself devouring just yet, and a necklace with a chew on too. He puts it on and nibbles on it as he opens up the others. He gets an engineering book, called “Building Without the Math,” and it sounds right up his alley. He also gets a tool kit, which he places in his gag bag for safe keeping.

The other items are mostly random toys they hadn’t known existed because they haven’t been outside. Wakko uses the propeller of a toy plane as a fan, and then spits in it to see the drool droplets hover.

“Eugh,” Dot growls out, looking away, before she sighs and reaches into her dress pocket. “This leads to my gift.” She hands both Yakko and Wakko a set of flash cards on a ring.

“Coupons?” Yakko flips through them, and then snickers.

“You two can do things that...,” Dot struggles for the world. “Make me uncomfortable. Cause you’re boys.” She rolls her eyes. “But you like to do them ‘cause they make you happy, not because they make me annoyed, so these are your passes for that. Valid for a year.”

There are ones like “Can lick me” and “Allowed to not bathe for 2 weeks” that Wakko thinks are specifically targeted at him but hey, why not? Baths are dumb, and he licks to show affection! He sticks the cards in his cap.

Yakko rips one out, hands it to her.

“Thanks, Dottie,” he stresses her least favorite nickname, and she bares her teeth in a very strained smile, snatching the coupon from his hand. But Yakko laughs, and soon enough, they all are.

“I’m also going to put away the decorations, no extra charge,” she waves a hand.

“Sounds good to me,” Wakko hops up, fidgeting with his long sleeves. “I...have to prepare my gift for you. Can you guys wait on the second floor?”

Yakko and Dot share a look, and then nod.

Wakko vanishes up to the third floor, heart in his throat.

He hopes this works.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He makes them put blindfolds on, pulling them up the stairs. Yakko holds Dot’s hand in one and Wakko’s in the other, helping Dot up as Wakko drags him along.

“What’s with the secrecy, Wakko?” He asks, and Wakko bounces in nervous excitement, tail curled around his leg.

“It’s a surprise,” he insists, and sets them up perfectly, on the mark he planned out. He’d checked, double checked, triple checked. If this doesn’t work he is going to lose it.

He turns off the lights, and pushes his contraption to the back of the room.

“Wakko, I would like to see sometime today,” Dot calls, and Wakko fidgets.

“Almost done!” The ice is in, okay, now just push the button.

There’s a series of clanks, and then a loud, grinding sound. Dot and Yakko shiver, and Wakko is glad he used scarves for blindfolds.

There’s a loud FWUMP, and Wakko bounces on his toes. His feet make indents in the ground.

“Okay, you can look now!”

Dot and Yakko pull down their blindfolds, and Dot gasps.

They’re surrounded by snow.

There’s a model of a crescent moon up by the ceiling, that acts like a lamp, and glow in the dark stars that glimmer pasted up on the ceiling, with constellations they find familiar. From the machine in the back, snowflakes are shot out, drifting slowly to the ground.

“I, uh, I made snow,” Wakko shrugs, a little self conscious. “Since we can’t go outside, I thought...,” What is there to say?

Dot takes one step into the snow, like she can’t believe it, and squeals when her feet crunches into it, jumping around.

Yakko is still dumbstruck, until Dot comes around and shoves snow down his pants. He jumps up comically high with a shriek, ears brushing the ceiling, and when he falls into the snow it makes a perfect imprint of him.

“Oh, that’s it!” he picks up some snow and throws it at her. Dot throws some back. Wakko runs into the fray, nailing Dot in the face, and she takes her revenge with deadly precision, before sprinting over to him and tackling him into the ground.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!” she shouts so loud that Wakko’s ears ring.

“Merry Christmas?” he tries, and she laughs.

“I knew you were my favorite brother!”

“Hey, I’m offended!” Yakko sprints over, but he’s laughing too, and he drops on top of them, wrapping his arms around them and rolling over in the snow, so they’re on top of him.

He nuzzles Wakko’s nose with his own.

“Nice job, little brother. Think you got us beat with this gift.” Wakko blushes, looking away.

“Wanna make a snowman?” he responds, because you’re welcome seems too formal.

“Heck yeah!” Dot jumps up and runs over to a large pile of snow.

“Watch your fucking language!” Yakko barks without heat.

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Wakko giggles, and Yakko sits up.

“C’mon, let’s not let her have all the fun,” Yakko picks him up and sets him off to the side, and Wakko is off like a shot the moment his feet touch the ground.

He thinks about the night before, of Yakko’s words.

Who needs the guy, anyway?

Beneath the fake moonlight, where the snow still sparkles like Wakko remembers, with Dot giggling up a storm as they make the largest snowman they can, with Yakko looking lighter than he has since they got stuck in here, Wakko can’t help but agree.

Who needs Santa anyway?

He can hear the tune from before, in his head, and hums it as they work, smile widening when Dot and Yakko join in.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams!

#animaniacs #animaniacs 2020 #kitkat1003 #yakko wakko and dot #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner #christmas fic #tower tales

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staygold-ponyboycurtis · 3 years

Text

A Semester Early

request: Pony goes on a winter walk, revisiting his hometown a year after college. He is happier now.

I loved this prompt, and wish I had someone to credit it for, but it was sent anonymously. it was so much fun to write! of course, a one-shot about Ponyboy can’t be written without some angst in there, right? ;)

ENJOY. let me know what you think!!!

There’s something to be said for the feeling of outgrowing a place. I decided that was it. That was the feeling I’ve felt ever since returning home from college. I hadn’t been home for this long since I was eighteen years old. After graduating a semester early a few weeks ago, Darry managed to talk me into coming home for a few months. I hemmed and hawed about it - living in a city like New York has a way of liberating you in the same way that a small town in Oklahoma can make you feel too small - but finally conceded defeat and agreed to move back in with him and Soda before I found a job.

It wasn’t the idea of seeing them that deterred me from returning home. Lord knows my arm doesn’t need to be twisted to find an excuse to see Sodapop, Darry, and the gang. It was the idea of not wanting to leave again. Of getting too comfortable for my own good, I guess.

Before I could dwell too long on the irrational doom I’ve felt since I walked in the door, I had to admit that it was good to be back home. Where I was just Ponyboy. Where everyone knew embarrassing stories about me and knew how I liked my eggs cooked and I never had to remind them of anything about myself. I didn’t have to make myself look cool or nuanced in their presence. They knew who I was. They loved me for who I was.

Darry has all the Christmas decorations sitting in boxes scattered on the floor when I walk in. Him and Soda had refused to decorate without me the past few years. It was something we did together and a tradition that meant even more for him to continue since mom and dad were gone.

Our mother loved Christmas. I try my best not to tear up when I notice that Darry has her Loretta Lynn Christmas album sitting on top of the record player, waiting for us to play it and sit in bittersweet silence like we’ve done every year. Decorating for Christmas reminds me of her the most, I’ve decided.

I couldn’t believe this was almost the tenth Christmas without them. It feels like a lifetime.

When I set foot into my childhood bedroom, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia, like I always am. Nothing changes. Not that I expected it to, but it was like walking through a museum. Back at school, I felt like a nomad. I never really had a place to call my own in New York. I was in a different apartment every few months, and none of them were satisfactory, but I had learned to regard it as charm. Perhaps Sodapop knew this, because he always made sure to leave everything as I had it from the last time I had been there.

“I didn’t want to move anything,” Soda said, slinging an arm over my shoulder sweetly, though my height had finally crept beyond his. “I wanted to make sure you’d recognize the place when you finally came back.”

“I guess you guys really do love me,” I said with a chuckle.

“Always, kiddo,” he said, messing with my hair.

The gang - or what’s left of it - piles in our small kitchen for “family dinner”, as Two-Bit lovingly referred to it. Darry made us spaghetti - another favorite of mine. He had improved his cooking tenfold since I’ve been gone, I remark.

“It’s that girl of his,” Sodapop says with a sly smirk. I blush. Darry was secretive about his love life. More secretive than me, which was saying something. “She’s taught him a thing or two.”

“And not just in the kitchen,” Two-Bit adds with an immature, clownish smile on his face, never missing an opportunity for an impish euphemism.

Darry shoots him a look that conveys pure annoyance and deadly threat. I knew that look all too well. I’m pretty sure Darry invented that look for me.

“What?” Two-Bit asks innocently. “She taught him how to clean, too.”

We all break into laughter. “Asshole,” Darry says under his breath.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend,” I say.

“Don’t sweat it, Pone,” Soda says. “He didn’t tell me either. I picked up the phone one day when she called about a date with him. I just about dropped dead right then and there.”

I blush, sheepish at the thought of Darry caring about anyone else other than us. As charismatic as he is, Darry is sometimes more shy than I am about girls.

We fall into our normal rhythm of camaraderie quickly at dinner. It never takes long for me to fall back in line with the gang, catching up on their stories and mine from the last time we were together. Though Tulsa no longer feels the way it used to for me, the gang has. I know they’re the only reason I’d ever come back to this place.

“Gee, Pony,” Two-Bit says while we’re cleaning up the table. “Every time you visit, you seem smarter.”

“Smarter?” I ask.

“‘Ya know… cooler. Different, in a good way.”

“I think the word he’s looking for is ’sophisticated’,” Darry says, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder. “A college scholar.” He smiles at me proudly.

“Thanks,” I say almost inaudibly. It’s surely a compliment, but it makes chills run up my spine. I’m not sure why.

Before we begin decorating, I head towards the door, grabbing my coat.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” I say, reaching for the door knob. “To… clear my head.”

“You okay, kiddo?” Darry asks, puzzled. “It’s 8 o’clock at night.”

“I’m okay,” I say. “Just trying to take it all in.”

He looks at Sodapop, confused. “Do you want me to go with you, buddy?” Sodapop asks.

I shake my head vehemently. “I’m fine, really,” I say. “I just want to walk around like I used to.”

Darry shrugs. “Don’t be gone for too long. Soda can barely wait to put up the stockings.”

I chuckle, a bit emptily. “Roger that.”

The cold air fills my warm lungs with a shock. New York winters are much more brutal than in Oklahoma. The snow piles high, and it isn’t as picturesque as you see in the movies, either. Just a lot of brown and grey slush. One year, a few of my friends and I went Upstate to go skiing, and that was really nice, though.

I make my way down the sidewalk, not really believing that I’m actually home. I mean, I’ve been home multiple times before now. But it feels different now, because another stage of my life is finished, another chapter closed. And I didn’t think I would be living with my brothers forever or cooped up in Tulsa for the rest of my life, but I’m finally realizing that life is changing. I just can’t realize why I’m bothered so much by it. I think I realize things too late.

I make my way around the block, lost in thought. I notice some of our neighbors have hung Christmas decorations outside their houses. They decorate the same exact way every year, as Darry does, and it makes me feel a bit nostalgic. Dad used to drive us around in his old truck to look at all the lights in our neighborhood. We never really had money to spend on visiting the light displays on the better side of town, but we wouldn’t have ever known it. This was just as fun.

I realize that the perpetual feeling of a broken heart during Christmastime doesn’t do much for my sadness right now.

I stop at a forelorn house at the end of our street, on the corner. It’s a small yellow house, a bit less dilapidated than ours. Typically adorned with all types of big, ceramic lights this time of year, the house sits solemnly, vacant and dark. I stare at it a bit, the writer in me trying to make a metaphor out of its image.

“Mrs. Friedman died two months ago,” I hear a voice behind me. “Her house has been empty ever since.”

“You followed me,” I say, more as a statement than a question.

“I could tell something was bothering you,” Sodapop says.

I laugh, a little curtly. “You can always tell.”

“Of course I can,” he smiles. "And I didn’t want you to be out here alone.”

“You didn’t tell me Mrs. Friedman died,” I say, a bit offended. “She cooked us meals every week after mom and dad died. She always gave us her son’s old clothes, too, remember?”

“I know,” Soda says. “Darry and I didn’t want to upset you.”

“You thought I’d be upset?”

Soda looks at me. “You’re a little bit more sentimental than the rest of us.”

I scoff. “She was our neighbor for years. Did you go to her funeral?”

“Of course,” Sodapop says. “'Woulda been silly for you to come all the way home for a 100-year-old woman’s funeral, though. Don’tcha think?”

“I guess."

We sit in silence for a few moments, and I focus on our breath in the air. It’s white, like cigarette smoke. I laugh a bit in my mind, reminiscing on the period of time where I couldn’t go more than fifteen minutes without smoking. It’s been nearly three years since I’ve quit.

“What’s up, Pone?” Soda finally asks. “What’s wrong?" I give him a look.

“What?” he says. “I can see right through you.”

I pause for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly it is.

“It’s just… I always had an excuse. I had New York. I had college. I knew I was leaving, but I always knew I would come back. And four years seemed so far away,” I say. “Now I’m not sure there’s a place for me here anymore. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Well… no,” Soda says. “Because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Pone. There’s always gonna be a place for you here. This is your home. Don’t you know that?”

I roll my eyes. “I mean, it’s never going to be like it was. We’re never going to be living under the same roof as one another. Hell, I don’t even know where I’m going next. But it’ll never just be all of us together again. I feel like we’re losing another part of the gang for good, but that part is me. And it feels like….”

“It feels like Dal and Johnny all over again.”

“Kinda.”

Sodapop pauses for a moment, thinking about this. Though he isn’t the most articulate, he’s certainly the most insightful.

“Wanna know how I see it?” Sodapop asks.

I nod. “Of course.”

“You’re twenty-two years old. You graduated college at the top of your class. You have job offers all over the country. That’s something to be proud of, Pone. That doesn’t happen for just anyone. Hell, it didn’t happen for me and Darry. It won’t happen for Steve or Two-Bit. It didn’t happen for Dally or Johnny. You should be grateful you are where you are.”

“Oh, come on…” I say. “I didn’t mean it like that-"

“No, listen,” Sodapop says. "You think you should be feelin’ guilty about leaving, but you shouldn’t be. Me, Darry, the gang, even mom and dad would want you getting the hell out of this pokey ‘ol town,” he says with a laugh. “It’s all we’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I know that. I’m thankful for that.”

“Hell of a way of showin’ it,” Soda says jokingly.

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” I say. “I always figured you and Darry would think I left you guys behind or somethin’. I never wanted you to think that.”

“C’mon, Pone. We’d never think that. We’ve worked so hard to help you make somethin’ of yourself. We’re real proud.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Thanks for knocking some sense into me.”

“You know, you’re afraid of changin’, but that’s one thing that will never change about you,” he says as we begin to walk back to the house. “You’ll always need your big brothers to help you see what’s right in front of you.”

“You’re right about that,” I say.

“And don’t think you’ll never come back here to visit the gang,” he says. “We’ll drag you back here if it’s the last thing we do. You’ll know where to find us.”

“You’re right,” I say. “I’ll never be able to get away from you guys."

“Exactly,” he says. “Now, can we go back and decorate for Christmas? Please? I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

“Yeah,” I say with a chuckle. “Let’s go."

I really could’ve written this conversation forever, but I wanted to keep it short and sweet. Let me know what you think!!!

P.S. if you have any one-shot requests, my ask is always open. I love when you all send in your ideas :)

P.P.S. if you’d like to write a review, this one-shot (along with my other writing) is also posted to my fanfiction.net account, which is linked here 🖤

#the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders writing #the outsiders one shot #the outsiders book #the outsiders movie #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders ponyboy #Ponyboy curtis #ponyboy #sodapop curtis #Darry curtis #curtis brothers #Two-Bit Mathews #Steve Randle #Dallas Winston #dally winston #Johnny Cade #my writing

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lynnearlington · 4 years

Note

Prompt: Supercorp (friends to more maybe?) + Kara invites Lena to spend Christmas at Midvale for the first time.

“Do you really think it’s such a great idea to spend winter break alone with your quote “best friend” whom you’ve had a giant gay crush on for the last three years?”

Lena shoots Sam an exasperated look and continues to throw clothes into a small weekender bag on her bed. “It’s not all of winter break.”

“A week. Over Christmas.”

“And?”

“And what’s your game plan? Are you going to finally tell her?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lena scoffs.

“You guys are going to be alone, in Midvale, with her family, drinking schnapps and snuggling under blankets while it snows outside and you’re abso-fucking-lutely going to tell her.”

Irritated at the certainty in Sam’s voice, Lena throws a sweater a tad violently into her bag and glares at her friend. “I’ve lasted three years in silence, haven’t I?”

“Because she was dating what’s-her-name half the time and the other half you were dating Veronica.”

“So?”

“So it’s the first time you guys have both been single and alone at the same time,” Sam argues far too logically as if Lena hasn’t been thinking the same thing for the past two months since Kara invited her to Midvale.

“We’ll be fine,” Lena dismisses, rummaging through her underwear drawer.

“I doubt you’ll need anything in there,” Sam deadpans and Lena tries to chuck a pair of lace panties at Sam’s face, but it just floats in the air between them, buoyed by the sound of Sam’s laughter.

–

Lena realizes how right Sam was about five minutes into their journey, when Kara’s talking delightedly about what she’s going to make for Christmas dinner and her cheeks are rosy from the chill in the air, her hair tumbling down beneath a thick grey beanie. It’s cute and so Kara and oh god Lena’s not going to need any schnapps to tell her.

“Are you excited?” Kara asks, practically bouncing as they wait for their Uber to take them to the airport.

Lena nods, warming when Kara grabs at her hand and holds it. “Very,” she says, fighting the flips in her stomach.

–

They’ve kissed before. Once.

Well, twice, really.

–

They’re freshman, and really only just becoming friends. Lena is on a break with Veronica, upset and feeling vengeful at a house party one Saturday night. Kara is the consummate supportive friend, listening to Lena rant about all of Veronica’s wrongdoings and pouring her drink after drink every time she asked.

Kara looks good. Attractive in a way Lena’d never really let herself notice before. The soft flannel shirt she has on hangs open at the sides, the grey t-shirt underneath clinging tightly against the plane of her stomach. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal strong forearms and Lena realizes she’s spent far too long staring at Kara’s belt buckle and wondering if she could undo it with just a finger.

It doesn’t help that Kara’s body is solid and firm when Lena sags against it, the vodka swirling in her gut making her feel warm and loose.

“You okay?” Kara asks so sweetly, eyes a perfect blue as they try to catch Lena’s.

Lena nods, straightens a little, but licks her lips when Kara’s fingers wrap around her bicep to keep her upright. Kara’s face is so earnest and her hair is coming out of her ponytail so attractively and gosh Lena just wants to feel something.

She’ll have her excuses in the morning - a long list of things like the vodka grapefruits she’d consumed or those butterscotch shots or being upset over Veronica. It’ll be settled and dismissed by the time her hangover is fading midafternoon tomorrow, but for now, Lena just steps up into Kara’s body and kisses her.

Full on, lips against lips, hips against hips, kisses her.

The drink she has in one hand sloshes a bit against her fingers when she moves and her other hand wraps soundly around Kara’s neck and everything else at the party fades out. Kara takes a beat to react, but react she does. Her arm sliding across Lena’s back and bringing them together, lips slanting easily and taking over the kiss.

It feels good and perfect and lasts a solid thirty seconds until a loud crash interrupts them and they’re pulled away by a fight breaking out in the living room.

When they address it the next afternoon and Lena’s head is muffled by a throbbing embarrassment, Kara accepts Lena’s excuses easily enough and offers to bring over her famous hangover remedy.

Lena’s still, two years later, not certain if she’s grateful or disappointed.

–

Midvale is small, but charming. Just like Kara’s always described it. There’s snow everywhere and lights already hanging around all the trees. The giant welcome sign is draped with garland and there are snowmen built haphazardly across every other front yard. They even pass a few children having a snowball fight as they run down the sidewalk.

It’s idyllic in a way Lena’s never really experienced.

“This is fun,” Kara says as they drive further into town. “I’ve never gotten to bring anyone from school home before.”

Lena quirks a brow at that. “Really?”

“Really,” Kara confirms, reaching across the center console of their rental car and patting Lena on the thigh. “I’m glad it’s you.”

And that’s definitely not going to help Lena stay close-lipped about the entire thing. Nor is the way Kara is grinning at her or the warmth bleeding out from her palm up Lena’s leg. It feels significant and inevitable and Lena tries to do a mental calculation of how long she has to last before she leaves.

It’s like she can hear Sam laughing all the way back at school.

–

The second time they kiss is the end of sophomore year when Lena’s finally ended things once and for all with Veronica, and Kara decides that’s a great time to tell Lena she’s started to seriously see that little brunette floozy she shares a chem lab with.

To this day Lena refuses to remember her name.

Lena has this whole speech prepared about how she’s finally done being off and on again with Veronica and how it’s really always been Kara she’s wanted to date and even if it means risking their friendship Lena thinks it’s worth it to try. There’s this whole part about how she can’t stop thinking about that one time they shared a drunken kiss and sometimes when Kara holds her hand late at night, Lena thinks about doing it again.

It’s a good speech. She practices it with Sam and everything.

And then Kara goes and ruins it with her big dumb mouth.

“So [redacted] said she’d be my girlfriend,” Kara tells her as they lounge about Kara’s dorm room pointedly not studying for finals.

It halts Lena’s entire being, stuttering all functioning to a dead stop for several moments.

This was not part of her master plan. There’s a party this Friday at Nia’s house and they’re supposed to go together and then she’ll pull Kara out onto the porch and sit her down, maybe take a few extra sips of her tequila sunrise for courage and then - in this stunning ensemble she’d bought with Sam last week - she’ll start her speech.

Kara announcing she’s got a girlfriend a few days prior isn’t exactly on the menu.

“She did?”

“Yeah,” Kara replies, sounding nervous as she fiddles with the television remote, sliding the battery door open and closed over and over again. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t really want to talk about this after everything with you and Veronica and -”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Lena interrupts, her chest feeling icy and stomach twisted. She stands and paces to Kara’s minifridge, bending to peer inside and pulling out a bottle of beer stored there. “Do you want to get drunk?”

“Lena, it’s Wednesday,” Kara says, but the exasperation in her voice is fond and she stands up to take the offered drink from Lena’s hand.

They drink all the beer in Kara’s fridge and watch reruns of The Office until late that night, curled up on Kara’s tiny futon. It’s soft and warm and lets Lena forget that Kara’s officially off the market just when she’d been ready to snatch her up.

Maybe they really are destined to be just be friends. Maybe the universe is just saving her from ruining the best friendship she’s ever had.

She’s sure it’s that passing thought that has her staring at Kara’s lips for far too long when Kara laughs at something ridiculous on the television. There’s enough beer in her system to make her feel risky and there’s a chance she’ll never get this opportunity again. Kara’s going to have a girlfriend next year and probably won’t have any time for her anyway and Lena’s going to be alone forever and -

Kara’s turned toward her, that furrow in her brow that always makes Lena want to kiss her, and so she does.

It’s quick, but powerful. Lena surges forward and startles Kara back into the couch, their lips crashing together solidly enough that Kara lets out a little yelp into the kiss.

But Kara doesn’t push her away. Not immediately and not even after Lena shifts enough that she’s almost in Kara’s lap, her fingers pulling Kara in by her cheeks.

It ends softly, slowly, as Kara pulls Lena’s hands away from her face and looks at her quizzically, an uncertainty in her blue eyes that makes Lena’s chest go tight. “What are you doing?”

The words are whispered between their lips, still hovered near enough that Lena’d only have to move a fraction and they’d be kissing again. She could do it too. Could press forward and straddle Kara, kiss the confusion off her face and slip down into her lap until Kara’s moaning and forgetting about anyone else except Lena.

Kara’d let her.

But it’s not right. And Lena’s not about to make a cheater out of her best friend. Her perfect, innocent, never does anything wrong, best friend.

“Sorry,” Lena whispers back, her cheeks flush as she sits back on the futon, a considerable distance between her and Kara.

“Uh -” Kara’s touching her lips gingerly like she can’t believe it’s happened again and thinks that’s about her cue to leave.

“I should go,” Lena announces, standing up from the futon and making her exit as quickly as possibly while Kara’s still dumbfounded.

Nothing comes of the kiss. Just like the first one. Kara dates she-who-must-not-be-named for most of the summer, but by the time they return for their junior year, there’s no girlfriend to speak of. “Didn’t work out,” is Kara’s only explanation.

Their friendship doesn’t miss a beat. Kara seems to move past the incident just as easily as before and Lena can’t deny she’s at least somewhat grateful for Kara’s ability to just roll with the punches. Especially because Lena seems to be incapable of not throwing them.

“We were drinking,” Kara says when they finally talk about it and Lena nods. “And you were sad.” Lena just nods again. “You do crazy stuff when that happens,” Kara whispers like it’s a secret, eyes searching Lena’s face. Lena rolls her eyes, but acknowledges the truth with another nod. Kara smiles. “Good thing I love you anyway.”

Lena nods, but her throat gets caught just the slightest when she laughs. “Good thing.”

–

Kara’s childhood home is such a contrast from the one Lena grew up in that she knows her jaw is dropped as she takes it all in.

It’s small, but inviting. Large trees line the front covered in glistening lights and the windowboxes all have ornamental arrangements in them. The yard is coated in fresh snow just like most of the town and Kara’s adoptive mother Eliza greets them on the front porch wrapped in a warm sweater with a smile so much like Kara’s they almost look related.

“Hey, girls,” Eliza greets, hugging them both and ushering them out from the cold.

It’s warm inside and smells like something delicious is cooking. Kara perks up immediately, hoisting her duffel up on her shoulder and carrying Lena’s bag inside as well despite Lena’s insistence she didn’t need to.

They settle up in Kara’s bedroom and Lena takes the time wandering around the small space inspecting everything and enjoying the way Kara blushes at Lena’s inquisitiveness.

“You had short hair in high school?” Lena asks, picking up a picture of a younger Kara and Alex and wondering how she’d never seen it before. It’s not an unattractive style, the swoop of Kara’s blonde hair looks disheveled from the wind of the beach they’re standing on and it’s tossed atop her head in a way that makes Lena’s fingers itch to run through it.

Kara snatches the picture out of her hand. “Alex got gum in my hair,” she grumbles, setting the picture down on her desk. “I had to chop it all off.”

Lena laughs, strides over to the small bed against the corner and flops down onto it, testing its feel. “So this is where all the magic happened, huh?”

Kara crosses her arms across her chest and rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, you know me. Big stud in high school,” she jokes, but as Lena looks at her leaned up against her desk and smiling at Lena, she’d believe it.

“Ah yes,” Lena teases, leaning back on the mattress. “I can sense all the heartbreak.”

Kara smiles at her, but doesn’t respond, just regards her for long enough that Lena sits up, feeling self conscious under the observation. “What?”

Shrugging a shoulder, Kara looks away, standing up from where she’s leaning. “Nothing,” she says, walking over to her bag and unzipping it. “It’s just nice having you here.”

Lena’d have a much easier time with things if Kara would just stop saying stuff like that all the time.

–

Kara’s sister Alex arrives from out of town much later and though Lena’s only met her a few times, hugs Lena as if she’s family.

They eat a home cooked meal together and catch up. It’s nice and easy and Lena can see why Kara is the way she is. There’s a familiarity and warmth that pervades every interaction and Lena sees so much of Kara in the way Eliza keeps offering her more food or drink or the way Alex tells ridiculous stories from their childhood just to make Lena laugh.

Lena didn’t even know this was something she could miss without having ever had it, but she finds she already aches knowing it’ll be gone in just a short week.

–

It’s far more difficult than Lena had ever anticipated. Kara in her family home is somehow a softer, more attractive version of the one Lena gets at school all the time. She didn’t even think that was possible. It so effectively beats past all her we’re just not meant to be justifications and complicated compartmentalizing that she’s worried she’ll just blurt something out at any moment.

They spend their time watching trashy holiday movies in the living room with Alex, or braving the snow so Kara can show Lena her favorite watering hole on the other side of town, or baking and decorating cookies with Eliza. Simple, uninteresting activities that seem to wrap around Lena’s soul in a way she’s always associated with Kara.

She won’t make it until Christmas, she can sense it, and all her extremely logical reasons for keeping her feelings under lock and key seem to break down every second she spends with Kara and her family.

It’s Christmas Eve that ends up being the tipping point. Kara tugs Lena inside the tiny dive bar they’ve been frequenting and Lena knows she’s in trouble the moment Kara smiles at her as she shakes the snow off her head and shoulders like an overgrown puppy. They’re greeted enthusiastically by the bartender and a few other patrons that seem to know Kara and the worst of it all is the way Kara’s mittened-covered hand stays wrapped around Lena’s as they make their way to two empty bar stools.

Forgoing the strong stuff, Lena lets Kara order them a pitcher of beer and sips on it slowly lest the alcohol get to her head and she pull Kara into the sketchy bathroom stall down the dark back hallway.

“We should go sledding later,” Kara suggests as she’s draining the last of the pitcher into her glass and nodding at the bartender in some kind of silent communication for another round.

“That sounds cold,” Lena replies, chuckling warmly at the glint in Kara’s eyes. The strings of christmas lights hung across the ceiling twinkle in the reflection of Kara’s glasses and Lena reaches for her empty glass just for something to do with her hands.

“Nah, it’ll be fun,” Kara dismisses, murmuring a thanks when the bartender sets down their second pitcher. “Plus, that’s what beer jackets are for.”

Lena makes a face with that, thinking she’s maybe had all the shitty local beer her stomach can handle, but doesn’t stop Kara from refilling her glass.

“If you say so,” Lena says, nearly choking on her drink when Kara’s hand lands heavily on her knee.

“I’ll be fun,” Kara repeats, bending slightly to make the kind of eye contact that warms Lena’s cheeks. “I promise.”

–

The sledding hill is another hike through thick snow, but Kara passes the time explaining to Lena all the different hijinks she and Alex got up to on the hill when they were kids. Lena focuses on keeping her feet under her as she matches the large footsteps Kara’s leaving in the snowfall.

“You good?” Kara asks, reaching behind her to grab for Lena’s hand.

“Yeah,” Lena says softly, taking Kara’s hand and letting herself get tugged forward. “Are we there yet?”

Kara laughs, a warm rich sound that drips over Lena’s chest. “Almost,” she says, pulling Lena in close. “Do you want to get on my back?”

At the offer, Kara turns and bends a bit, but Lena shoves her playfully. “No,” she chuckles, but when she tries to keep walking, Kara moves in front of her, still offering her back and shuffling whenever Lena tries to get past.

They dance around each other, laughing, until Lena manages to push Kara full on into a snowbank. It’d be hilarious if Kara didn’t grab at Lena on her way down until she’s falling on top of Kara bodily.

It arrests the laughter in her throat and she feels the warmth of Kara’s length all the way up her front, their faces hovering near each other as their breath manifests in the air between them. Lena’s suddenly aware of far too many things, from the snow falling quietly over them to the way she can feel Kara’s heartbeat thud between their thick jackets.

She hasn’t had nearly enough to drink to make her drop forward and kiss Kara, but god does she want to.

“Sorry,” Kara says when Lena fails to say anything. Blue eyes dart across Lena’s face, drop down to her mouth and back up. “Are you okay?”

It’s enough to shake Lena out of the sudden rush of desire and she scrambles to get up off Kara’s body as quickly and gracefully as she can. She’s only half successful, slipping on a patch of ice on the sidewalk part of the way up and relying on Kara’s quick reflexes to catch her, but then they’re standing again and Lena’s able to put some distance between them.

“Yeah, of course,” Lena says, laughing it off and brushing snow of Kara’s shoulders. “You’re so snowy now.”

Kara laughs again, shrugs. “We’re almost there anyway,” she says, shaking off the snow as much as she can and reaching out to grab Lena’s hand again. “Come on.”

–

It’s only when they get to the hill that Lena realizes they don’t have a sled. Kara seems largely unconcerned with this reality when Lena mentions as much and she realizes why fairly quickly when Kara jogs towards a small ramshackle shed tucked away in the thicket of trees at the bottom of the hill.

It’s quieter out here and devoid of people - Lena’s pretty surprised considering the recent snowfall has created ideal sledding conditions - but grateful there aren’t any witnesses. She can just imagine what her mother would say if she could see Lena now.

There are a small collection of community sleds that Kara rifles through until she picks one she likes. “Perfect,” Kara says, holding it up with a triumphant smile.

Lena thinks the entire endeavor is ridiculous, but Kara’s excitement is contagious and the snow is pretty and there are worse things Lena can imagine doing. At least out here she’s less liable to blurt her feelings out than curled up under blankets in Kara’s room watching a movie.

Or so she thinks.

She’s wholly unprepared for the fact that Kara intends to get on the sled together and she perhaps could have anticipated such an event, but she’d been too distracted with the way Kara looks with a beanie pulled down low and cheeks pink from the chill in the air.

“This is a terrible idea,” Lena says, resisting the slightest when Kara scoots back on the sled and spreads her legs in indication of just where Lena’s supposed to sit.

“I promised fun and I never break a promise,” Kara says with a cute little lift of her chin. “So come over here.”

Lena relents, stepping over Kara’s leg to drop down between them. Her stomach swoops dramatically when Kara curls an arm across her midsection and tugs her in tightly. It puts Lena’s back up against Kara’s front and her cheek warms when Kara’s chin plants on her shoulder and her breath floats hotly across her skin. Lena licks her lips against the feeling. “If I end up in some small town hospital tonight because you crash us, I swear to -”

Kara’s laugh interrupts her and her arm tightens around Lena enough that the words get lost in her throat. It feels so good Lena closes her eyes just a moment to enjoy it, to imagine she doesn’t have to resist the liquid heat dropping down her chest at the feeling of Kara so close.

And then the sled is lurching forward and Lena’s eyes fly open as they crest the hill and start flying down. Cold wind and snow whip past them and Kara’s excited laughter is infectious enough that Lena joins her as they go barreling towards the bottom. Kara’s hands stay locked tightly across Lena’s stomach, keeping them locked in close together as they go flying off a makeshift jump.

“Oh, shi-” Kara lets out as they go careening sideways, but Lena’s laughing through their crash as they slide across the snow and tumble together the rest of the way.

“You did that on purpose,” Lena accuses, but there’s no bite in it, tempered by her smile and fond chuckle as Kara starts making a snow angel where she’s lying on the ground.

“I didn’t,” Kara laughs, standing and jogging to where the sled is. “I swear.”

“Sure,” Lena draws out, trudging after Kara back up the hill.

“Come on, we won’t crash this time.”

“I’m not going again.”

Kara looks back at her. “Yes you are,” she says with a wink and a smirk like she knows Lena will do whatever Kara wants.

“You’re the worst sometimes,” Lena complains, huffing as they start the long trek back up to the top.

“I know, I know,” Kara says, pausing for Lena to catch up and wrapping her free arm around Lena’s shoulders. “But it’s Christmas Eve and you love me.”

“Hmmm,” Lena hums, enjoying the strong way Kara pulls Lena into her side. “I suppose.”

They get back to the top of the hill and Kara brushes snow off the sled before setting it at their feet, keeping it there with a touch of her heel

“Actually,” Kara says, not getting back on the sled like Lena expects. Instead, she looks out to the side, hands tucking into the pockets of her jacket.

They can see a lot of town from here, Lena realizes. Not that there’s all that much to see. But the spattering of Christmas lights and homes are visible from where they stand. Lena takes it in a moment with a quiet smile for Kara’s hometown.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” Kara says, pulling Lena’s attention back in front of her.

It drops something heavy in Lena’s gut. She’s heard this before. It’s usually what precedes Kara telling her something devastating like [redacted] and I are back together or you’re such a good friend, Lena. And frankly, Lena doesn’t want to hear it. It’s Christmas Eve and she doesn’t have to deal with this today. If Kara wants to tell her later, fine, but right now, Lena’s going to live in her fantasy world for a little longer.

So she does what any rational person would do when they don’t want to hear bad news from their best friend. She puts both her hands on Kara’s shoulders and shoves her hard enough that she falls onto the sled and starts careening down the hill.

It occurs to her seconds after Kara yelps and starts flying backward what exactly she’s done. Her hands fly to her mouth in mortification, but it’s done now. No taking that one back.

Kara tumbles gracelessly down the hill with her sled farther and farther away from where Lena’s still standing at the top and she watches as her best friend faceplants in the snow at the end.

“Oops,” Lena thinks to murmur, allowing herself a soft laugh at the way Kara comes up from the ground with a face full of white powder.

“What the heck?!” Kara yells up at her.

“Sorry,” Lena calls back, feeling her cheeks heat up.

Kara looks adorably upset, stomping through the snow towards her sled and ripping it up from the ground as she starts her ascent yet again. It’s hard to feel truly guilty with the cute way Kara swipes snow off her face. As she nears, Lena can make out the expression on her face, brow furrowed and the slightest pout of her lips. Whatever Kara’s got to tell her, maybe Lena should kiss her first one last time just in case.

“You pushed me!” Kara says, sounding as if she can’t believe it herself. “I was just trying to tell you -”

Kara pauses, grabs her sled with both hands and holds it in front of her like a shield. “Don’t push me again, I have to tell you something.”

“Sorry,” Lena says again, arms crossing over her chest and biting her lip against a laugh. “I thought it’d be funny.”

“Not when I’m trying to tell you something important.”

“Kara, it’s Christmas Eve,” Lena sighs, thinking maybe there’s something unspoken between them that Kara will pick up and spare Lena the pain of having to hear something she doesn’t want to.

“I know,” Kara says, dropping the sled enough that Lena can see the serious expression on her face, the red in her cheeks from more than just the cold and snow. “That’s why I want to tell you this.”

“If you’re back together with you know who, I don’t want to hear it,” Lena says, unable to stop her defense mechanisms from ratcheting up no matter how it sounds.

Kara drops the sled to the side, looking a bit indignant. “She has a name, you know,” Kara says, almost stomping her foot in the snow. “I don’t know what it is you have against her.”

Against better judgement, Lena replies on instinct. “Yes you do.”

They’re silent a moment, gazes locked on each other and Lena can barely hear the sound of falling snow over the heavy staccato of her heart.

“Yeah,” Kara says, so softly Lena barely catches it. Then, louder, “So the thing is, I like you.”

It’s such an absurd set up for a let down, Lena rolls her eyes. “I know you like me, Kara, don’t -”

“No,” Kara interrupts, taking a step forward and looking more serious than Lena’s ever seen her. “I like you.”

The significance of what Kara’s saying slams into Lena so forcefully she has to take a deep breath, her eyes widening in bewilderment.

“No you don’t,” Lena says when she can’t think of any other way to convey her shock. Honestly, she thought that if she ever confessed to Kara, it’d take some convincing to get her best friend to see her in a romantic way, and then after that she’d reconciled with the fact that Kara would only ever see them as friends.

Kara looks taken aback by her reply, looking around as if she’s being pranked by a hidden camera crew. “Yes, I do,” she retorts.

“That’s not possible,” Lena says, her voice going a little shrill at the end as her brain starts to spiral into hysterics. Is Kara really saying what she thinks she’s saying? She’s regretting the alleged beer jacket Kara had foisted upon her.

“Okay, not exactly the reaction I was hoping for.”

“But you - I mean - and when I - you can’t -” Lena scrambles for a complete sentence, but falls short, incapable of expressing three years of repressed feelings in one solitary moment, but Kara cuts through it all and takes another step forward.

“I wanted to tell you here, in my hometown, because it’s away from all that stuff at school and because I guess you always remind me of home, so it just felt like the place to tell you that I like you and you’re my best friend and I’m not trying to ruin anything between us, but I just think about those times we kissed way too often and I think I’d be a good girlfriend for you and if maybe you’d just consider -”

Lena finally catches up to the moment, lets herself believe in what’s happening and presses so swiftly forward into Kara’s physical space that the sled drops from her hand and goes gliding down the hill at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, okay,” Lena breathes out, looking up into Kara’s eyes. Her heart feels heavy against her rib cage and her brain can barely understand that this is really happening, but she’s pretty sure it means she can kiss Kara and not feel guilty about it in the morning.

“Really?” Kara’s smile is so bright and genuine that Lena wishes she had said something the moment they got in the car to the airport together.

In lieu of answering, Lena just grips her fingers into Kara’s jacket and pulls them together until they’re kissing, soft and sweetly at first until Kara seems to get with the program, arms around Lena’s waist and deepening the kiss into something much hotter. It’s like that for long moments, the world dropping away around them, until they pull away and blink dreamily at each other.

“Wow,” Kara says softly and Lena laughs.

“Can I confess something?” Lena asks, feeling an unstoppable urge to even the playing field.

“Of course.”

“I’ve been meaning to say the same thing for a long time,” she says, feeling embarrassed by the confession regardless of circumstance.

“How long?” Kara asks, the softness of her expression making Lena want to press back in again.

“Too long,” Lena admits and Kara smiles.

“I’m glad I said something then,” Kara says, the curve of her lips turning into something more teasing. “You’d have been too stubborn to ever do anything about it.”

Lena tsks indignantly, pushing ineptly at Kara’s shoulder. Even though Lena’s pretty sure she doesn’t shove that hard, Kara stumbles back and pulls Lena with her. It’s not so bad this time; Lena ducks her head to kiss her. They stay at the top of the hill for a long while, their sled abandoned at the bottom.

–

Sam gives Lena the biggest I told you so when they get back on campus and stroll into the welcome back party hand in hand, but Lena just rolls her eyes at her friend and stays glued to Kara’s side, rewarding her with a kiss when she hands her a drink.

She can’t even bring herself to mind when Sam sends her about forty texts in regards to Kara’s Instagram post - the one with her arm slung around Lena’s shoulders and her lips pressed to Lena’s cheek, with a very cheesy caption: The best Christmas gift of all.

Sam can say as many I told you sos as she wants. Lena spends the latter half of her winter break wrapped up in Kara’s arms, plenty surprised and absurdly joyful. It was the best Christmas gift of all.

fic tag | prompt fills | ko-fi

#this tag is for fic #prompt fill #winter prompts #i'm writing everything as college au DARE YOU TO STOP ME #honestly forever apologies that i mutilate prompts #supergirl fic #supercorp fic #ficlet #Anonymous #asks

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pepethehobbit · 3 years

Text

I wrote a van der stoffels AU for the Skam Holiday Event and because I am a giant mess I couldn’t stay with one theme and kind of jumbled a lot of them together? This story is basically for Day 1: Decorations, Day 3: Winter and Day 5: Parties

And because holidays are stressful even with Corona I didn’t manage to finish it on time, but it’s the 26th so it’s technically still Christmas, so I hope it’s okay that I post it now. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this little snippet of Jens and Lucas being dumb and in love.

„I’m sorry you want me to do what?“

„Pretend? Please, Luc. I know it’s such a weird thing to ask of you but I can’t stand their constant questioning and interrogation any more of when I will finally bring a nice girl or boy home, especially not around Christmas. My family is weirdly obsessed with my relationship status and that it’s currently single. I just want them off my back.”

Lucas hears what Jens is saying. And it’s nothing new either. Jens’ family really is oddly nosy about his relationship status even more so since he came out, as if the fact that he is bi would enhance his chances somehow. Lucas knows this frustration because Jens has talked to him about it a few times especially around holidays or Jens’ birthday, where his family is extra persistent about Jens finding someone.

Jens hasn’t done anything about it, he stays silent and then complains about it to Lucas later. Until now, Lucas guesses. Because Jens just asked him to come to his parents house for a Christmas family gathering with coffee and cake and a later dinner. But that is not the thing that took him by surprise. Lucas has spend a few Christmases at the Stoffels household, especially when his own family couldn’t be there for him or just straight up left one year like his father had. They basically spend every Christmas together in some capacity since Lucas moved to Antwerp when he was eleven and both of them becoming inseparable.

Jens has been Lucas’ best friend for eight years now and at first he thought Jens was kidding, but he recognizes a serious expression on his face when he sees one. He has years of experience to back it up. So that is the thing that surprises him. Jens is seriously asking him if he can come home with him for Christmas to pretend that he is Jens’ boyfriend. Lucas must have been too quiet for too long because Jens begins to backtrack. He shakes his head and then lowers it. His voice is filled with an unusual insecurity.

“Forget it, Luc. It was a dumb question to ask of me. They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

“I’ll do it.”

It slips out before Lucas could consciously think about it. He wasn’t really planning on saying yes to this, because there was a voice in his head that immediately screamed: “No! Bad Idea!” But with the way Jens head snaps back up to him with a huge smile of relief he can’t bring himself to take it back.

The problem is, Lucas wants to be like that with Jens for real. It took him a while to figure it out after Jens broke up with Jana but he is definitely in love with his best friend and has been for two years. Pretending to be with Jens so his family gets off his back would be pure torture for Lucas. He knows exactly what his best friend is like when he is in a relationship. Jens doesn’t shy away from open affection, says the cheesiest shit that he makes out to be a joke (but Lucas knows he means every single one of them) and is just in general the most attentive and supportive boyfriend anyone could ask for. Maybe Lucas is a bit biased on this topic but he is pretty sure that being on the receiving end of these things from Jens would not help him at all to get over his best friend like he should. Especially with the knowledge that it’s all fake from Jens’ side. He would get a glimpse of what it would be like and then Jens would snatch it all away and thank him for being such a good friend. Lucas is not sure if his heart would survive that.

“Really? Luc, oh my god, thank you! You really don’t know how annoying they are. I don’t know what’s gotten into them lately but they are worse than ever.” Jens seems so relieved and Lucas’s heart breaks a little more. He just needs to be medical about this, needs to set up some rules that he and Jens can stick to so Jens doesn’t do anything that Lucas wouldn’t recover from. Like kissing him.

“Have you thought about how we would sell it? Because your family knows me pretty well, knows we’ve been friends for years. What’s the story?”

Jens ducks his head for a second and then raises it with a sheepish smile. “Well, I didn’t really expect you to say yes to this, so I didn’t do a lot of planing ahead. Maybe we can do that together?”

After an hour or so they had it all planed out and rules to stick to. When Lucas mentioned rules, Jens got a bit confused (Rules? What kind of rules?) and Lucas had to fight down the urge to roll his eyes. “Well, don’t you think that your family will find it weird when we won’t touch all evening? We need some rules of what is allowed and what isn’t.”

Lucas felt so awkward in that moment. Not only talking to your best friend about what is and isn't off limits but at the same time trying to stop thinking about how much he wants Jens to do all of things for him for real. After agreeing that holding hands and a little bit of cuddling is definitely okay, Jens suddenly got very shy again and asked with a small voice: “What about kissing?”

Lucas’ very fast and firm “No!” seemed to shock Jens a little bit and a look of disappointment flashed across his face which made Lucas momentarily mad at Jens. He has no right to be upset about this, he can’t be expecting Lucas to kiss him for the sake of making it believable. Lucas’ could not go back from that. Kissing Jens, knowing what it would feel like, what he could have if Jens only returned his feelings, no that’s too much for Lucas. “No, you’re right. Sorry. I wouldn’t want to make you more uncomfortable about this evening than it will probably already be.” Lucas doesn’t point out that kissing Jens would be the exact opposite of uncomfortable for him and just lets him think that that’s why he draws the line at kissing. “It will be like any other Christmas I have spend with your family, Jens. The only difference is that we will have to pretend to be madly in love, stick to our story and hold hands the entire time, what could go wrong?” Jens chuckles at Lucas’ obviously fake positive outlook for the evening and said: “Famous last words, Lucas.”

And that is how he currently finds himself on the steps of Jens’ old family home with Jens hesitantly taking his hand in his and asking: “Ready?” Jens slowly raises his other hand to ring the bell but Lucas interrupts him: “Wait. Let’s go over it again.” Jens lets his hand fall again and with the other one he gives Lucas an encouraging squeeze. “Luc, we’ve been over this a million times. They won’t notice a thing. We got this, okay?” Lucas doesn’t have the chance to respond because then the door is being opened and Jens’ mum gives them an enthusiastic welcome. She doesn't notice their joined hands and simply hugs them both. It gives Lucas an instant kind of comfort. Mama Stoffels has always been there for him. When he couldn’t be around his own family she opened up her home to Lucas as often and as long as he needed.

“You must be freezing. Come in, come in. The others are already here. You’re the last to arrive.”

They get in and the familiarity of the surroundings help Lucas to calm down even more. He knows these people, he knows the place and he knows Jens. The only thing he has to do is to pretend to be in love with Jens for one day. It wouldn’t even be pretending for Lucas. The only thing he has to do is to let down his carefully constructed wall that keeps Jens from knowing Lucas’ true feelings for him. Lucas only hopes that he can rebuild the wall once this day is over.

Mama Stoffels already left for the living room while Lucas and Jens shove off their jackets, scarfs and beanies, expecting them to follow her to the room where the rest of Jens’ family already waits for them. Lucas looks nervously up at Jens and then at the door which is currently still hiding them from the storm of questions they are about to receive when they walk through that door.

Jens takes his hand again, which is part of the plan and asks: “Ready? We can still not do this. It’s your choice.”

“No, I’m ready. Let’s do this. You owe me big time for this, though.”

Jens grins at him easily and says: “I know, thank you, Luc. And believe me, the next four vettige vrijdag are on me.”

“Alright, I can live with that.”

Jens squeezes his hand once more and opens the door.

Lucas knows more or less everyone in this room. Jens’ parents of course, his little sister Lotte and his older sister Lies he knows best but he has met both of Jens’ aunts, uncles and grandparents several times as well. There are a few faces he doesn’t know, mostly younger kids who don’t pay attention to them anyway (Jens said a few of his younger cousins would be there as well). The first one to see them enter is Lies and Lucas has to hold in his laugh at the way her face goes through confusion, to understanding and lastly arrives at pure and utter joy.

“Oh my god, finally!” Lies all but screams and that works to get everybody else’s attention as well. Lucas feels the eyes of nearly everybody in the room on them and sees how they their gazes swipe down to their tangled hands and up again. He looks nervously over to Jens because that’s most definitely his job right now.

Jens clears his throat and says: “You know how you always annoy the crap out of me to find someone nice to date? Yeah, well. I did.” With that he gives Lucas’ hand a squeeze and raised their joined hands so everybody can see them properly.

The silence that follows is grating on Lucas’ nerves but then everybody kind of erupts in enthusiastic screams and shouts over each other. Lucas’ doesn’t understand everything but he thinks the overall consensus about the revelation is that everybody is thrilled for them and the world “finally” is heard a little too often for Lucas’ comfort.

Lies is the one to bring them all to silence. “Guys, stop! I know we are all thrilled that they finally got their head out of their asses but let them say hello first.” Lucas doesn’t want to think about the implications of Lies’ statement and is glad that he gets distracted by her pulling them both towards the table, giving them both a firm hug and setting them down at two empty seats.

As everybody is kind of settled again, the silence returns and Lucas’ should have known that the gleam in Lies’ eyes would mean that this is far from over for both of them.

“And now the interrogation can begin. So, shoot. How did this happen?”

All the curious eyes are on them again and Lucas looks over to Jens to find him already staring. He hopes his eyes convey his silent support because this first portion of the plan is definitely all Jens. All Lucas has to do is sit here and look convincingly in love with Jens, which again is not really a hardship for him anyway.

“Well you all know that we’ve been friends for a long time now and a few months ago I started to realize that my feelings for him changed.” Jens takes Lucas’ hand again and places it in his lap, it’s an obvious enough gesture to support the story. Lucas notices how the mischievous gleam in Lies’ eyes is replaced with a much softer, fonder one. “Then I drunkenly kissed him at a party one night and lucky for me Lucas kind of stopped me and said ‘Kiss me again in the morning, when you’re not drunk.’ And that’s what I did and now we’re here.”

Lucas couldn’t help the blush that spread on his face, even though the story is completely fake, the thought of Jens kissing him just does that to him. It seemed to help their case though, as Papa Stoffels points out: “Look at you blush, Lucas. I always knew Jens would eventually fall victim to your charm.”

At this Jens lets out an incredulous “Dad!” but Lucas can’t help but laugh. Jens fixes him with an over exaggerated indignant gaze and Lucas just needs to tease him. “So my charms are what finally got to you, huh? Tell me, what exactly about my charms was it? The handsome looks? The devastatingly funny sense of humor? The -”

Before he can continue Jens hides his head in the crook of Lucas’ neck and mumbles loud enough for the others to hear as well: “Shut up oh my god, you’re so annoying.” While he speaks he feels Jens’ lips lightly move against his neck and Lucas suddenly has a hard time coming up with a response. Thankfully, he is saved by Mama Stoffels.

“Well, Jens. You didn’t deny any of those things, either.” Her tone is cheeky and it’s not the first time Lucas’ notices the similarities in their natures between Jens and his Mum.

Jens lifts his head to stare accusingly at the rest of his family and says: “You are all annoying. Can we eat our cake now, please?”

Lies’ fixes them both with a stare. “You can. But don’t think this is over. The interrogation has only just begun. I want to know everything.” Her words sound harsh but she says them in such a fond tone Lucas can see them for what they are. She seems so genuinely happy and not that surprised at the news that he and Jens are dating that Lucas wonders if she has always kind of known how he really feels about her brother. But he can’t worry about that now as they get drawn into the conversation around them. He can feel himself relax in the presence of these people who he would consider his second family. At one point Jens puts his arm around Lucas’ shoulder to pull him into his chest while talking to his grandparents. A gesture they don’t usually share and should feel unnatural but it being the exact opposite. Lucas forgets that this is only pretending and decided to soak up as much of Jens’ freely offered affection as possible. Because if he is only allowed to have them for one night he is going to make the most of it.

He fully snuggles up to Jens, links their fingers together and begins tracing the moles on Jens’ arm with the other. Something he always wanted to do. When the conversation gets dragged back to them and about how they got together, Lucas gets brave and offers a sign of affection of his own. Jens is in the middle of explaining how he confessed his feelings for his best friend when Lucas raises his hand to strike a hand through Jens’ raven black hair. Jens’ falters for a second, then looks at Lucas with big eyes and a small smile on his face that has Lucas’ insides churning. It’s not a look that he would usually receive from Jens and it’s doing things to Lucas, like forgetting that this is all pretend.

“You two are going to be that couple I can already tell. You are both so smitten.” It’s Lies’ voice once again that interrupts their weird moment of eye contact. Lucas tries to find his voice again because Jens is just ducking his head, trying to hide a blush that Lucas can see rising up his neck anyway. He tries to steer the conversation away from them to get them to safer grounds.

“Don’t pretend that you and Josh wouldn’t be the same if he was here. You are ten times worse than us.”

“He is right you know.”

“Mama!” Lies’ indignant tone raises a laugh from all of them and the conversation moves on around them. Jens is still not looking at Lucas and he has pulled his hand back to himself. Lucas nudges him with his elbow but Jens doesn’t look up.

“Hey, you alright?,” Lucas asks quietly so that the others don’t hear.

Jens takes a deep breath and finally looks up at Lucas with an expression that’s much more closed and sadly one that Lucas is much more used to, nothing compared to how he had looked at Lucas just moments prior.

“Yeah, I’m okay. All good.” Lucas is not convinced but he can’t exactly nudge Jens for more when they are surrounded by his family within hearing distance. “I’ll go see if Dad needs help in the kitchen, be right back.” With that he stands up and leaves Lucas confused and alone with his family. Something happened there and Lucas isn’t sure what. Jens is just pretending. Why is he suddenly fleeing when it seems to be working? Isn’t this exactly what Jens had wanted?

Lucas doesn’t have a chance to think about this further as Lotte, now twelve years old, calls for him to come to the door which leads to the kitchen. “What’s up Lotte?” he asks once he has reached her but she is suddenly turning around, calling for Jens in the kitchen without answering his question. Lucas is confused but then Jens stands in the doorway with him and asks Lotte the same question who gazes at them both with a bright smile on her face.

“Look up.” Jens and Lucas share a confused look but do as they’re told and realization begins to sink in. Mistletoe. Lucas lowers his gaze again and locks eyes with Jens straight away. The one rule he is still unsure about wanting to break and Jens seems equally hesitant.

“People are supposed to kiss under a Mistletoe, right? So kiss.” Lotte says it as if this would be the easiest thing in the world and from the corner of his eye he can see that they gathered quite the attention even though the rest of Jens’ family tries to be subtle about it.

He takes a step towards Jens, never leaving his eyes. Jens returns his gaze with an equal amount of vulnerability and questions. Lucas takes his hand in his and decides to just go for it. Screw the consequences. This evening is an exception to everything and suddenly he really wants to know what it feels like to have Jens’ lips on him, at least once. As quietly as possible he whispers: “It’s okay.” He can see Jens starting to argue, he obviously remembers how adamant Lucas was about no kissing. But now Lucas doesn’t care. “It’s okay,” he whispers again and he can see the protest fleeing out of Jens’ eyes.

It’s Jens that closes the final distance between them. He sees how Jens’ eyes flutter shut before his own follow. Their noses touch, sending a shiver down Lucas’ spine in anticipation. When Jens angles his head and finally connects their mouths Lucas can only hold his breath. He thought Jens would go for a simple peck but once their lips are connected both of them can’t seem to let go of each other. Jens’ lips are warm and gentle and when he parts them against his own he tastes of the gingerbread cake they ate before. He feels Jens stepping even further into his space and beginning to move his lips against him with a slight tremble and Lucas melts into his chest.

A loud whistle is what separates them and they both all but spring apart from each other looking for the source of the noise. It was Lies, of course. Who else could it have been. Lucas chances a quick look at Jens but he is not paying him any attention, as if this kiss was completely ordinary and did not just completely turned Lucas world upside down. Which reminds him once again, this is pretend. Of course Jens is acting like this, because he doesn’t feel what Lucas feels and because he can’t act like this was their first kiss when they are supposed to have kissed for over a month now.

“Oh Lies, shut up. You’re just jealous because Josh isn’t here.” Lies looks like she is ready to throw back another teasing remark when Jens’s father steps out of the kitchen. “Jens, language!” His son ducks his head, ruffles Lotte’s hair, who still stands next to them and says “Sorry.”

“Well, if the show is over now, you can all come into the kitchen. The buffet is open now. I hope you’re all hungry.”

The general commotion that follows gives Lucas some time to collect himself. He tries to catch Jens’ eyes again but he seems very determined to ignore Lucas right now. Jens follows the others into the kitchen to get in line for the food and doesn’t say anything about what just happened. Lucas suddenly doesn’t feel that hungry anymore and flees to the bathroom.

He steps in front of the sink and looks up in the mirror. His eyes automatically zero in on his lips as if searching for proof that the kiss really happened. His fingers gently trace his own lips where Jens’ have been just a minute before, disbelieving. Lucas got what he wanted and it was simultaneously the best and worst kiss he has ever experienced. Kissing Jens has felt like coming home and just so utterly and purely right but it comes with the knowledge that is wasn’t the same for Jens. He was so nonchalant after, like he wasn’t affected at all whereas Lucas is now freaking out in a bathroom. How is he supposed to survive dinner and a few more hours with this play they put up for Jens’ family. All he wants is to go home and be alone so he can try and forget the kiss that cemented his feelings for his best friend. Before, there may have been a chance of getting over his crush but with the knowledge of how it feels to be kissed by Jens that chance is completely gone. He should have never agreed to this. But he has and Jens is still his friend. Lucas turns on the tap and splashes some water in his face and tries to collect himself. Only three more hours or so and then he can go home. One last deep breath and he opens the door to join the others again.

When he sets foot in the living room/dining room his eyes immediately find Jens and he looks at him as if asking him if he is okay. Lucas tries his most convincing smile and nods once, then turns around and makes his way to the kitchen to get some food. He sits down next to Jens and conversation with his family starts to flow easily again.

Dinner is not as bad as Lucas thought it would be. But he notices that Jens is more distant. Before he pulled Lucas into his personal space as much as he could and now he doesn’t even try to hold his hand. He is worried and relieved at the same time. Worried that he made Jens so uncomfortable with the kiss that he doesn’t even want to hold his hand anymore and relieved because Lucas is sure that he couldn’t have handled more fake affection from Jens. He softly nudges Jens with his elbow to get his attention. Jens turns around and looks at Lucas questioningly. “What is it?”

Lucas slowly leans forward and as quietly as possible he asks: “Are we okay?” Before Jens scolds his expression into a reassuring one Lucas saw the flash of sadness in his face. Anyone else would look over it but Lucas saw and it makes his stomach drop with anxiety.

“We’re okay.” But Lucas doesn’t relax with these words, not in the slightest. He knows that there is something going on in Jens that he wants to hide from Lucas and it's probably his fault and the fact that he was kind of forced to kiss Lucas when he probably really didn’t want to.

After desert Jens’ family slowly makes their way home member by member. Jens and Lucas stay a little bit longer after everyone already left. They are on the floor in front of the fake fireplace and play a round of The settlers of Catan with Jens loosing terribly and Lucas teasing him mercilessly for it, his parents and Lies joining him. Lotte is a sweetheart as always and tries her best to trade with Jens anything that he needs. Lucas is still very unnerved about this whole evening and what happened between Jens and him but this is familiar. It warms his heart to see how easy he fits in here and how natural it seems for Jens’ family to not only accept his presence but welcome him with open hearts to family evenings like this. It works to calm his nerves a little bit, especially because Jens seems to be more like himself as well. He leans more into Lucas and falls into their natural teasing so effortlessly as if he forgot the weird mood that surrounded them after the kiss.

In the end, Lies wins and she demands that everyone bows down to the queen of settlers. They jokingly indulge her but she looses their attention when Lotte runs to the window and excitedly jumps up and down and screams: “It’s snowing, it’s snowing. Look!!”

They all get up to look at the white powder falling from the sky, which has already covered the whole street in a thick layer of snow.

“Can we go outside and make snow angles?” Lotte asks in a voice so giddy that only an overly excited 12-year-old can manage.

“Lotte, it’s way too cold and it’s way past your bedtime already. The snow will probably still be there in the morning and then we can all go outside and have a little walk through the snow together okay?”

Lotte seems to accept that quite begrudgingly and mumbles something about boring party poopers under her breath which has Jens and Lucas eyes meet with shared amusement. His mom and dad usher Lotte upstairs and Lucas takes the opportunity to announce that they should be going as well.

“Lucas, you two can’t go now. It’s a twenty minute walk and it’s snowing very heavyly. Why don’t you two just stay in Jens’ old room? I’ll drive you both home tomorrow after breakfast.”

Lucas wants to argue, especially as he feels Jens stiffen next to him, bringing back the uncomfortable mood between them. He opens his mouth to say something but Lies interrupts him.

“Stop that. You’re not intruding, not at all. You are always welcome here you know that. Even more so then your boyfriend.” She says the last part with a wink towards her little brother who just fondly roles his eyes and shakes his head at his sister’s words. Lucas can hardly argue that but he still looks to Jens for confirmation that this is okay, especially after Jens seemed very uncomfortable with the idea of them staying the night. But then he pulls Lucas more into his side as he sees Lotte’s questioning gaze on them and says: “Sure, let’s stay for the night. More time to cuddle with you.”

Only now Lucas realizes that he has to share a bed with Jens for the night and he instantly regrets it again. Why. Why can’t he just say no for once in his life. It’s so weird between them right now. Even though Jens has him in his arms, he feels more than a thousand miles away from him.

They inform Jens’ parents and soon after say their goodnights to them and make their way upstairs to Jens’ old room. Lucas had tons of sleepovers here and they shared a bed many times before but this is different. He knows that he won’t get an ounce of sleep with Jens so close next to him. Jens informs him that there is a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and gives him some of his clothes to sleep in that he still keeps in his parents place. Even though Jens seems all chill Lucas sees through his act. The air between them is awkward and stilted and Lucas has no idea on how to fix this. Talking about it would probably help but Lucas isn’t ready to loose Jens yet, which will probably happen anyway with the way Jens acts kind of cold towards him.

They take turns in the bathroom down the hall and when Jens is gone Lucas settles in on the left side of the bed towards the windows. Jens comes back, turns off the light and Lucas feels the bed dip under his weight as Jens settles in next to him. The bed is big enough for both of them but their shoulders are still only a few inches apart and Lucas is very aware of the fact that his hand is very close to Jens’ own in the middle of the bed. A very uncomfortable silence stretches unbearably between them, not even a quiet goodnight, and it’s enough for Lucas to finally speak.

“I’m sorry for kissing you, Jens. It was obviously too much and I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I know I said no kissing but everyone was looking at us and because you asked about it in the first place, when we sat up those rules, I thought you would be okay with it. But clearly it made you super uncomfortable because you have been weird for the rest of the evening and I’m sorry.”

Lucas is met with silence again and the fact that he can’t see Jens’ face in the dark makes him even more anxious. Then Jens speaks.

“Why did you decide to kiss me when you seemed so appalled to it earlier? You were the one that was clearly uncomfortable just at the thought of kissing me, so you could’ve easily said no or made a joke about it. You didn’t have to kiss me like you meant it when you clearly didn’t want to. So, why did you?”

Lucas is taken aback by the hurt in Jens’ voice and hates himself for being the reason for it. It makes him want to be honest, maybe Jens will be even more mad at him for basically using him but at least he won’t hurt him anymore by lying to him.

“I wasn’t appalled to the idea of kissing you. That is the whole problem, actually. I said no to kissing at first because I knew there would be no going back from that for me. But in that moment today I just went with the excuse because I knew it would be the only opportunity for me to ever know what it would be like to kiss you. And I’m sorry for that. I knew this was a bad idea from the start because I knew that my feelings would ruin this and I-”

A sudden light makes Lucas stop in his apology and confession in one. After adjusting to the sudden brightness he sees how Jens sat up in the bed and turned on the light in the bedside table. Lucas sits up as well and waits for Jens to say something. But he just looks at him with wide eyes full of doubt but also… hope?

Lucas sees how Jens’ hand slowly reaches for his own and sucks in a breath when Jens intertwines their fingers together. “What are you doing?”, Lucas asks with a shaky exhale of breath and looks up from their joined hands to Jens’ eyes. Something seems to be decided in Jens’ brain because the doubtful expression vanishes and is replaced with a softer look full of affection and determination.

“Luc, okay first of all. I wasn’t uncomfortable when we kissed, not in the slightest. Quite the opposite really. If anything it made me come out of my denial and proofed what I suspected for a while now.”

“Which is?” Lucas asks when Jens doesn’t continue. Hope begins to settle in his chest and an excited warm and fuzzy feeling spreads when Jens raises their joined hands to his lips and kisses Lucas’ hand.

“That I am in love with you.”

Lucas can’t do much but stare at Jens completely speechless as an overwhelming feeling of happiness washes over him. He feels how is lips stretch into a smile that he can’t help and then he grabs Jens by the front of his shirt, pulls him towards himself and kisses him again. Jens’ surprised yelp is smothered by their lips softly moving together and Lucas feels how Jens melts into him after the initial surprise. He lets his hand slide from the collar of the shirt to Jens’ neck and begins to play with the short strands of hair. Jens lets out a little satisfied sound and opens his lips for Lucas, inviting him in.

Lucas feels like he is floating when they eventually break apart. His eyes stay closed for a few seconds to bask in this feeling only a little while longer. He opens his eyes and is met with Jens’ most beautiful smile and begins to realize that he is the reason for that. Lucas can’t help himself and steals another short kiss from Jens before he says: “I love you, too. In case that wasn’t obvious.”

Jens laughs and shakes his head in disbelief. “God, Luc. Today was pure torture. The whole time I was asking myself ‘How can he be so good at pretending?’ And then that kiss and I… God, I was having a silent freak out after that kiss but I couldn’t show it and you were looking at me like that and I couldn’t handle that it was all pretend, that’s why I was so weird after. I finally came out of my denial for my feelings and it was because of a fake kiss with you.”

“I can’t believe I bought your chill act. I totally believed you weren’t affected by that kiss at all and it made me freak out and flee to the bathroom because I couldn’t handle the fact that I just kissed you.”

“We are so dumb.” Jens says with laughter and Lucas can’t help but agree. During this whole conversation he has been smiling so much his cheeks hurt. Jens is making him so unbelievably happy, he can’t believe he got so lucky.

“So, I guess the plan is off?”

Jens looks at him confused but the smile never leaves his face. Lucas isn’t much better off. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the plan where we would’ve told your family that we broke up in three weeks because we are better off as friends?”

At that Jens face light up with remembrance and he gets a teasing glint in his eyes. “Oh that plan. Yeah, I mean, I guess you can carry the title of my boyfriend a while longer if you want to,” he says with over exaggerated nonchalance.

“You guess?” Lucas indulges him in his teasing, tries to act offended but he can’t keep the smile off his face or the happiness out of his voice.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t bother me, you know. As long as you keep doing the things a boyfriend does,” Jens says with wiggling eyebrows and a teasing smirk. Lucas can’t help but lean in and wipe that smile of his face with his own lips. “Oh, I see. And what does that entail, exactly?” he asks when he leans back.

Jens closes the distance again and whispers against his lips: “More of that.”

They fall asleep embraced in each other and Lucas couldn't remember a time where he slept better than in Jens' arms. He woke up before Jens and lets himself admire the beauty that his a sleeping Jens. It's as if his fingers have a will of their own when they begin to trace Jens' face, from his forehead down to his eyebrows, then his nose and lastly his lips. They begin to twitch into a small smile but his eyes stay closed. Jens lets out a content hum. "I could get used to waking up like this."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Oh long enough to know that you've been staring at me," Jens says teasingly but he sounds way too happy for Lucas to really question if Jens is bothered by it.

Jens finally opens his eyes and reaches for Lucas' hand which has fallen down between their faces after Lucas was done with caressing Jens' face. He intertwines their fingers together and snuggles up even closer to Lucas.

"So, last night wasn't a dream then?" Lucas can't help but chuckle at the clichee words but he also kind of melts at Jens' sleepy and hopeful voice.

"Would it have been a good dream?"

Jens looks up into Lucas' blue eyes and with an expression full of affection and love he says: "The best."

Lucas agrees. He could get used to waking up like this as well.

#skamholidayevent #vds #van der stoffels #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #christmas fic #fake dating au #my writing

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goldeneyedgirl · 3 years

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TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game.

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

#twificmas20 #ficmas20 #ficmas #alice cullen #jasper hale #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #my fic #fic: all these broken things #my fic: all these broken things #i like attention #that's why i do ficmas #honesty is the best policy #is ATBT getting a full tear-down and rewrite for 2021? you betcha

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arse-crack-thistle · 3 years

Text

rwrb winterfest - day 10 - snowflakes

@rwrb-fests

in which firstprince goes to a middle school dance bc i love little alex and henry so much!!

Alex knows tonight is going to be awesome! Normally, he wouldn’t be excited for a lame middle school formal, but he’s going to ask Nora Holleran to slow dance. She’s way too smart for him, but he can make her laugh like no one else can. It sounds like a bird, and being twelve, Alex can’t resist. If she says yes, this Winter Formal nonsense will all be worth it.

Outside, the D.C. air is chilly but bearable. Alex, his lacrosse friends, and their parents stand in front of his house, about to take pictures. His mother adjusts his red striped tie as he fusses with his black curly hair. June waits inside; she’s a high school volunteer tonight—much to Alex’s protests.

He shoos his mother away, slings an arm around his friend Liam, and smiles. His parents ready the camera, and Alex thanks Jesus they never fight in public.

Just behind closed doors when they think he and June aren’t listening.

The white Christmas lights shine behind the boys. His father tells them to focus and takes the picture. It catches Alex laughing at some joke Liam told, his eyes scrunched closed.

•••

Henry wouldn’t go to this thing if his mother weren’t forcing him. She reminds him it’s good practice for his future as he heads out the door to Bea’s car.

He hates these kinds of functions and having to socialize with people he doesn’t know and couldn’t be bothered to know. Because his mother is the British Ambassador, he’s gone to a few, but he doesn’t want a career in public office like the rest of his family. The Mountchristen name means something back home—they’ve had a few MPs, secretaries, and prime ministers—but that’s not Henry. He wants a quiet life away from the fuss.

A life in which he can finally be himself. And tell the truth. The Fox side of him.

Henry misses his father more than ever as Bea drives. Thank god, she’s here and playing Sufjan Stevens to match their moods. If his mother had been appointed any later, Bea would’ve been an ocean away like Philip—not that Henry misses his posh, Oxford brother all that much.

The buttons of Henry’s Burberry suit reflect the soft yellow glow of the streetlights outside. He knows he’s overdressed and that this will be the most expensive suit in the room, but it’s what his mother picked out. Yet another thing his classmates will pick on.

Especially Alex Claremont-Diaz.

Bea wishes him luck, and Henry groans as he gets out of the car. He really doesn’t want to be here.

•••

Alex dances in the center of the gym floor with his buddies to an Imagine Dragons song. Blue and white lights shine down on them. The whole place is covered in fake snow and light blue fabric. Shimmery snowflakes dangle from the ceiling. It’s cheesy, but Alex doesn’t care because he’s having a blast.

He just hasn’t been able to talk to Nora yet.

She’s been huddled with her friends from Tech Club all night. They’re watching something on a dude’s phone, and Alex knows that’s his in. He just has to make himself move in that direction.

An eighth grader, Pez, starts a dance circle and busts a few moves in his fluorescent clothes. Alex watches and cheers him on because everyone loves Pez. But they don’t love his best friend.

Ugh, Alex can’t stand that British guy, Henry. They may not be in the same grade, but they do Model UN together, and everything he says in that dumb accent riles Alex up. Partly because the girls—and some guys—swoon over him, taking some of the spotlight from Alex, and partly because Henry’s existence just irks him.

His perfect blonde hair. His judgmental blue eyes. His rich-boy wardrobe. The fact that he gets the right answer to every question asked of him. And the fact that he rides horses—like, riding outfit and everything.

Alex hates it all.

When a slow song comes on, he goes for Nora. She looks beautiful in a pale pink dress and with her hair done up in a bun. Alex feels stupid in his black church pants and white button-up.

Why didn’t he get June to help him pick out his clothes?

He asks Nora what they’re watching, and she tells him it’s an anime and laughs at something on the screen. After an awkward pause, he stutters out an invitation to dance. Thank Jesus, she says yes.

On the dance floor, he puts his hands on her waist, and she puts hers on his shoulders, and they sway to the music. A disco ball from the center of the gym casts sparkles all over them. This is their moment.

Which is why Alex asks her to go out with him.

Nora won’t meet his eyes, and Alex knows he screwed up. They’re just friends, she tells him.

His stomach hurts.

Alex misread the situation. He could puke right now. Nothing has felt this embarrassing. Not even last year when he dove for a volleyball in P.E., smacked his face on the floor, and chipped a tooth or in second grade when he called his teacher “mom” and the entire class laughed.

Nora comments on June’s dress to move the conversation forward, but Alex just nods. They finish the dance in silence, avoiding eye contact.

Alex’s face is hot and red. He doesn’t want his friends saying anything, so as soon as the song’s over, he thanks Nora and runs out of gym to the bathroom.

•••

For the most part, Henry is ignored by his classmates, which is good. He’s left to sit by himself at one of the tables. Someone sprinkled glitter all over the tablecloth, and flecks cling to his jacket sleeves. The speakers blast him with music, and the whole event is rather annoying, especially when chaperones bother him to ask if he wants anything or to encourage him to dance. Luckily, the high school girl serving punch just gives him a cup and tells him there’s only a few more hours left until they’re free.

Pez checks up on him every once in a while, but he craves a good party wherever he goes and only stays for a few seconds. Henry doesn’t mind. He scrolls on his phone, catching up on social media and eventually settling on a new Wolfstar fanfic. He peaks up from time to time to watch Pez try to impress the punch girl, but his eyes always end up on Alex.

He moves so easily. Whether it’s shaking his hips or fist-pumping to the beat or letting his head fall back in laughter, he just seems to handle everything so carelessly, so happily.

Henry envies him—can’t stand him because of it. There’s a ping in him every time he sees Alex.

Those curls. And soft brown eyes. The undeniable charm.

He walked into a Model UN meeting in glasses once, and Henry had a coughing fit and had to leave the room.

Don’t even get him started on the Spanish.

God, Henry cannot deal with these feelings right now. And he can’t find Alex in the crowd.

He stands up. Maybe he will dance. Maybe if he tries, he can think about something else. His father would want him to try. He’d give him a pep-talk and a hug that smells like his cologne and send Henry on his way. It’s how he convinced him to try polo and ask a girl to dance at his first gala.

Maybe this is good practice. To try to do things on his own.

But as Henry approaches a girl in his English class, someone scoots out their chair and trips him.

And Henry falls face first into a pile of fake snow.

The music still plays, but the students and chaperones are silent as Henry comes up covered in white clumps. It’s worse than the glitter on his suit, and it sticks to the gel in his hair. He feels the very last thing he wants: everyone’s eyes on him.

Henry excuses himself and leaves as fast as he can, stumbling into Pez and shirking him off on the way out.

•••

Alex finally feels cool again. He splashed some water on his face, unbuttoned his top button, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. He looks impossibly chill considering he was just dumped.

Okay, not dumped. But he definitely feels better. Like Rafael Luna, his dad’s best friend. Luna carries himself with a swagger that Alex can’t resist.

After he tousles his hair one last time, Alex walks out of the bathroom, only to find Henry covered in faux snowflakes, looking like the abominable snowman from Monsters Inc. But he’s not cheerful like the yeti. He furiously swipes at his pant legs with one hand and curses at his phone in the other.

“Oh, man! Rough night, huh?” Alex says.

Henry freezes. He sizes up Alex and scowls. “Could you not?” He goes back to his phone, “Bea, just come pick me up when you get this, all right? Please,” and then hangs up.

“You’ve never looked better, honestly. I dig the winter chic vibe,” Alex teases. This is best thing that could’ve happened; his friends aren’t even going to mention the Nora thing when he gets back in the gym. For once, he’s not upset Henry has upstaged him.

Henry mumbles something and shrugs off his suit coat to wipe it down. Snow flurries from his clothing onto the cream linoleum flooring.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Unbelievable!’ As in, ‘Of course, the universe hates me enough to put you here right now!’” Henry’s face reddens.

Alex can’t believe this guy. He’s practically a prince! What could be wrong with his life? Well, his father’s death, but that was a few years ago.

Alex googled Henry once or maybe twice—it’s irrelevant—and read about his famous father, who is Alex’s favorite Bond, for sure.

“So you messed up your suit? Big whup. I’m sure you have hundreds just like it. If not, the Fox-Mountchristen estate could probably cover it,” Alex says, crossing his arms. He’s surprised no adults have come to check on Henry. He’s not really sure what happened, but it was probably hilarious and well-deserved.

“You insufferable prick!” Henry shouts and throws the jacket at Alex. Before he can duck, it thwacks his face. He tastes the bitter snow in his mouth.

Alex scrunches it and throws it back. “You dickish, little drama king! You can’t handle the slightest bit of imperfection, can you? Heaven forbid, you’re knocked from your pedestal, and the rest of us mortals crack up!”

He knows this is stupid; he wouldn’t want people laughing at him either, unless it was intentional. In fact, he fled before his charismatic reputation was tarnished. Henry just brings something out of him—not the worst of Alex exactly, but the fight in him. Many a Model UN debates can attest to that.

Henry turns around and slams his fist against the black lockers. He flings the coat to the floor and leans on his forearm. “You haven’t got a clue, Alex,” he says. He sounds tired.

The muffled music from the dance echoes down the hallway. Posters on the walls and lockers advertise the dance, midterm tutoring, and the school-sponsored Spring Break trip to Peru. Alex watches Henry’s back go up and down with his breaths. A toilet flushes, and the sink is run before a girl walks out of the bathroom, past the boys, without a second glance.

Henry is right: Alex doesn’t have a clue. He knows people can hide their home lives. He hasn’t even told Liam about his parents fighting. How he’s heard the word “divorce” from both of them more than once.

And he’s pretty sure losing your father is worse than that; he wouldn’t know what to do without his own, no matter how much time had passed. And then to be moved across the sea to a new school, let alone a new country.

Damn. Alex sucks. And now he has to do something that would’ve made him throw up yesterday.

“Henry,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

•••

Henry can’t believe this—any of it.

Firstly, Alex Claremont-Diaz comes out of the bathroom as if he knew his nemesis was out there and wanted to catch him off-guard with his beautifully disheveled look. Henry blushes at the thought.

Secondly, after a row of which no teacher heard apparently, the aforementioned Alex Claremont-Diaz apologizes for the things he said. “Even though some of it was true,” he clarifies. Henry knows he’s right.

Thirdly, he and the godforsaken Alex Claremont-Diaz have been sitting next to each other on the floor for the past five minutes, just talking. Occasionally, Alex’s arm brushes against his and sends a tingle up his back.

If Henry didn’t know he was gay after consuming hours of Drarry and Wolfstar content, he knows now. As in, he finally realizes why he always looks for Alex in every room and why that boy gets under his skin so easily.

He definitely cannot go to a lacrosse game, ever. He might die.

The bright bulbs from the bathroom and the blue hue from the gym doors’ windows light the otherwise dim hallway. Henry can make out the Coldplay song coming from the dance and plays the piano chords on his knees. The smell of old sweat and cleaner lingers in the air.

Henry likes that Bea insisted on a normal American education for the two of them and that his mother actually agreed; he just doesn’t enjoy the smells that accompany the experience. Or the horrid cafeteria food, for that matter. He tells Alex as much.

“Totally,” Alex says. “It must’ve been hard moving here. Even if I think you and your uppity family are ridiculous, leaving your home behind would suck for anyone.”

“Yes, it does. But Mum got this great job, which she wasn’t going to take until my grandmother and my brother Philip encouraged her to. ‘You need a fresh start,’ they said. She agreed, though I think her attitude is more about survival rather than actual happiness,” Henry says. “I, for one, would prefer to be home where Dad taught me to play cricket on the back lawn.”

He sighs. Alex doesn’t need to hear this, and giving him more information to use against him or to poke fun of is a disastrous idea. But it does feel good to talk about his father with someone who doesn’t know him and barely knows Henry.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Alex says. “I looked him up once, and he seems pretty cool.”

“He was, yes.” If Henry lets himself get too close to the cliff of grief, he’ll jump off and never be able to recompose himself, so he looks at Alex. “You looked me up?”

Alex sits up straight. “No, no! Your father!”

“You looked me up.” Henry smirks. His stomach flutters, and he doesn’t know what that means.

“I wanted to know what your deal was!” Alex says. “It’s not weird like that! I wasn’t stalking you or whatever.”

Henry laughs hard for the first time in a while. “I can’t believe I have enchanted you this much, Alex. What must I have done to peak your interest? Was it the defeat in during the foreign aid debate?”

“Okay, one, don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” Alex says, holding up a finger to silence Henry’s laughter, which it doesn’t. “And two, you were arguing on the behalf of an imperialist, asshole country. How was I, the humble yet fiery Mexican delegate, supposed to get you off your high horse after you started barking about your country’s economy?”

“Accept that I am the better diplomat.”

“I accept that you’re the bigger—what’s that British word? Wanker.”

Alex shoves him, but Henry shoves him right back. The two laugh together, and as it fades, Henry thinks that maybe they can finally get along—be friends, even. Though, he doesn’t know if that’ll make his heart race more or less when Alex is around.

“Want to go back in there?” Alex asks. “I know you’re still covered in fluff, but it’ll add to the ambiance.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Just then, Henry’s phone rings, and Bea’s name flashes on the screen. When he answers, she tells him she’s outside. Henry looks at Alex. While he has relaxed since the incident because of him, he’s not quite ready to face the rest of the school.

But the hesitation is duly noted and will be thoroughly examined tonight as he tries and fails to fall asleep.

He tells Bea he’ll be out in a minute and hangs up. “My sister’s here,” he says.

Dare Henry say Alex looks a little disappointed? The space between his dark eyebrows crinkles, and he shoves his hands in his pockets after they both stand up.

“Well,” Alex says, “maybe you and I could prepare for the meeting on refugees together when we get back from winter break.”

Henry blinks. “All right. We could do it at mine if you like.”

“Sure. I’m dying to see the palace,” he says. “Let me just get your number.”

After they exchange phone numbers, Henry watches Alex walk back into the gym. Thank god, he isn’t wearing better trousers, or Henry might’ve blushed. Actually, it doesn’t matter; Henry feels his checks get hot.

Outside, real snow dusts the school’s steps. Henry spots Bea’s headlights and walks to the car, enjoying the cool night air. He slips inside as his sister asks what the hell happened.

He knows it’s not the question she meant, but in his head he answers, “Alex Claremont-Diaz.”

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

Note

i hate that i didn't say hi in that last request. HI hazel what do you think about!! "MY MOM KNITTED YOU A JUMPER" for malum? that sounds like the malum i love!! love u <3

hello hello hello here you go!

Ficmas Day 4

Rating: General Audiences

Read on AO3

Christmas in London is very different from Christmas in Australia. For one thing, there’s snow on the ground. It’s not much, tramped over by boots and mixed with the dirt to create sludge along the streets, but it’s still present on the ground. For another thing, it’s cold. Australian temperatures can dip down in winter, but by December it’s warm again, summer sun heating skin from the moment you step outside. It’s strange to be at the end of December and have to put on a coat outside. It’s also a little colder than Australia ever gets, and Michael finds himself seeking out blankets inside the house and shoving beanies over his hair before he sets foot outside.

It’s also different because Liz is the only parent around. All of them had to barter extensively with their parents to convince them to even let them come to London, and once they realized they probably wouldn’t have Christmas together it prompted a new flurry of discussions about the exact timeline of the move. In the end, professional interest won out over familial traditions, and Michael isn’t upset about heading to London early, but he’s careful not to mention the ache of loneliness in his stomach when he calls home.

He’s not really lonely. He has Calum, Luke, and Ashton, and Liz ensures that they all eat actual meals and get enough sleep and always have someone to turn to when they need a motherly hug. They have a little fake tree with some lights and generic ornaments on it, and Liz has been snatching packages as soon as the post delivers them, shifty about the contents inside. Michael isn’t worried about gifts, because being in London is his Christmas present, and it’s kind of nice to get the full Northern-Hemisphere-Winter-Experience shown in all of the movies.

It would be worse if he didn’t have Calum. It would be worse if he didn’t have all of them, but Calum has always felt like home in a way that few other people ever will. He’s been Michael’s best friend through thick and through thin, and he’s the one who brought Luke into their life and who’s agreement to do the band kick-started their process. Michael can always count on him to cheer him up on bad days and share his happiness on good ones, and living in London is a lot like an extension of the sleepovers they’ve been having since before they hit double-digits. The biggest difference is that they’re in separate beds rather than piled sleeping bags on the floor.

On Christmas Eve, Michael wakes up late and spends a long time laying in his bed, debating whether he should bother getting up or let himself melt into his mattress. Luke and Liz had plans for the day that they had suggested dragging everyone else along for, but Luke’s bed is empty and Michael can’t hear other activity in the house, so they probably left already. Michael doesn’t mind. He’s been tramping around London a lot lately, and a day to recharge is fine with him.

When his stomach finally growls, he heaves himself out of bed, throwing back the covers and shivering at the change in air temperature. He needs socks. He needs long sleeves. It's winter in England, and that is not conducive to getting out of bed right now.

He manages to find socks that smell clean and a t-shirt that seems passable. Hunger pushes him towards the kitchen before an acceptable hoodie can be found, but he can always sneak into the other room and steal one of Calum's. Calum's hoodies tend to be some of the most comfortable, and he guards them carefully. He always lets Michael keep it on if he's caught wearing one, though, which is more than can be said for the other two.

Calum enters the kitchen once Michael's toast pops. Michael has an irrational fear that the toaster popping will startle him bad enough to bite the tip of his tongue off, so he's partially thankful that Calum makes his appearance then and distracts him, even if his presence startles him more than the toast ever could.

"I didn't know you were home," he says in answer to Calum's raised eyebrows.

"Liz took Luke and Ashton. They'll be gone all day."

"Doing what?"

Calum shrugs. "I think Liz is still getting presents for the family to send for New Years and wanted Luke to help. Ashton just likes being out of the house."

Ashton is probably trying to find gifts for his own family. Michael already sent some kitschy souvenirs for his parents, although they haven’t reached Australia yet. He'll get them something better later, when he actually figures out what they would appreciate.

"Toast?" he offers.

"I'm making noodles," Calum says.

"Can I have some?"

"Yeah, okay."

Michael hums and slumps against him. Everyone should have a Calum in their lives. He's a space heater and a chef and a great bassist rolled into one, and he's pretty low maintenance. Michael only has to give him undying love to get all of the perks.

They keep a comfortable silence while Calum cooks and Michael eats, enjoying existing together rather than filling the air with mindless chit chat. Michael takes a shower when he finishes his toast, and Calum has the noodles ready when he's done. After lunch, they migrate to the living room, taking advantage of the empty house to finally play Fifa uninterrupted. Calum wins more than Michael, but he's not mad about it however much he pretends to be. Calum is often humble to a fault, so Michael is happy to let him rub these victories in his face.

Calum goes to check the mail while Michael gets more snacks. He comes back with two packages, one that he distractedly puts on the couch and another that he looks at curiously. It's bigger than a shoe box, taped together securely over some colorful paper.

"What's that?" Michael asks.

"From my mum," Calum says. "Your mum sent Liz something."

"What? What is it?"

"I don't know," Calum says. "It's a crime to open someone else's mail."

"But it's from my mum."

"Maybe she and Liz gossip about you. If it's meant for you, you'll get it tomorrow."

Michael pouts. Calum is, unfortunately, very resistant to his pouting. He also takes the package and makes Michael put it in Liz's room before Michael can get too curious and start shaking it. He could still peak, but then he'd have to contend with Calum's disappointed face. That's not something anyone should have to face on Christmas Eve.

"Michael!" Calum calls from the living room. "Get out here!"

"Why?"

"Mum sent you something!"

Michael leaves the package on Liz's bed and tramps back to the living room. Calum grins and holds up a dark blue sweater with two white stripes stretching around it.

"My mum knit you a jumper!"

"For me?" he asks. Calum nods enthusiastically.

"Put it on," Calum says. "She wants a picture."

He holds out the jumper, letting Michael slip his hands in the arms and helping him pull it over his head. It's a little big, spacious and comfortable, and the yarn is soft. Michael doesn't know the difference between any of the stitches, but they're fun and feel fancy.

"She said she made it big so we can grow into them."

Calum pulls another jumper out, just like Michael's except in green. When he puts it on, Michael resists the urge to help fix his hair, unruly from the static.

"I can't believe your mum knit me a jumper," Michael says.

"She's going to do one for Luke and Ashton, too, but she wanted to get yours done quickly. She said you're an ice cube in our winters, so she was worried about how you were handling this one."

Michael feels a rush of affection for Joy Hood. The entire Hood family is his favorite family besides his own, even without considering the fact that Calum is his favorite person.

Calum snaps a selfie, tilting his phone so they both fit in frame. Michael presses close, faces centimeters away, and ensures that his grin is bright and happy, trying to push as much gratitude into one picture as possible. Calum doesn’t step away while he sends it and Michael once again leans against him.

“Tell her I love it,” he says, looping his arms around Calum’s waist. He slips his hands under the hem of Calum’s shirt and presses them against his stomach, making him squirm and swear.

“Get your icicle hands off me!” he laughs, but Michael has a grip now and doesn’t let him go until they’re tumbling onto the couch in a tangled, giggly mess.

“Still want to play another round?” Calum asks once he catches his breath. Michael considers it, but he can’t properly cuddle with Calum if he has to hold a game controller, so he shakes his head.

“Movie?” he suggests instead. Calum shrugs and grabs the remote, shutting down the game and switching the input so they can browse through Netflix. Michael stretches out and Calum fits himself against him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch to cover their legs. It’ll probably get too warm about thirty minutes into whatever they decide to watch, but for now it’s perfect. Michael tucks himself lower into his sweater and pulls Calum closer to him, savoring every piece of warmth he can get.

#my writing #malum #5sos fanfic #ficmas 2020 #hey did you guys know that I love malum #because I do!#also apologies Taylor I got this out later than I wanted and you might be asleep? or getting ready to sleep?#if so hope you enjoy getting this gift in the morning #fun fact I looked up whether Australia says sweater or jumper #it seems like jumper might be it?

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jyvurentropyblog · 3 years

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How To Choose a POV?

One of my writer friends asked me to write something about POV. She didn’t have a specific question, but basically asked if I might cover the different types of POVs and which ones work better in certain circumstances.

Well, like I told her, this is going to be a VERY biased post. I am incredibly partial to third limited. I choose third limited almost every story I write.

Let me start by explaining the different POVs.

First Person: Uses the pronoun I

“I went to the store.”

Second Person: Uses the pronoun You

“First you need to go to the store, get some eggs and vanilla extract.”

Second person is rare in fiction. It is most often used in non-fiction books that include instructions, or recipes, or other how-to guides.

Every once in awhile, a writer will be really artsy-fartsy and use second person in fiction.

Second person in fiction would look like this:

“You go to the store. You see a long line of people. You sigh and shuffle down the aisle.”

One notable example of second person in non-artsy-fartsy fiction would be the choose your own adventure books.

Third Person: Uses third-person pronouns such as “She/He/They/Ze/etc

“Ze went to the store.”

But within third-person you have two options:

Third Limited or Third Omniscient

With third limited, readers are privy to the thoughts and feelings of only one character per chapter or scene. A story can still have multiple POVs, but within a scene or chapter, the POV remains only with one character.

In my novel ‘Desire and Destruction’, I alternate POVs every other chapter. So it goes one chapter in Cole’s POV and one chapter in Ingrid’s POV. When we’re in a Cole chapter, we can see what Ingrid does, but not what she thinks or feels. We can not see into her head. And the reverse is true when we’re in an Ingrid chapter.

With third omniscient, there is a god-like narrator who is looking into the minds of ALL the characters. This narrator is often somewhat detached and may look down on certain characters and praise other characters. Basically, it isn’t that deep-third that we get with third-limited. The narrator often has their own personality and way of viewing the characters. Within any scene, the narrator can relate the thoughts, feelings, or backstory of any character.

I do not recommend third omniscient. As I covered in my last post, very few people have the skill to know when to use it AND how to pull it off effectively. Most stories are not enhanced by third omniscient. I’m not saying you should never use it, but don’t jump in and give it a whirl just because a lot of the old classics use this style.

Remember the time period that was hard AF for third-limited also experimented with narrative style to the point that Frankenstein is told via letters by someone who has nothing to do with the story and just happened to meet Dr. Frankenstein out in the wilderness. It’s a summary of a summary. Wuthering Heights is told exclusively in conversations between the housekeeper and a tenant, neither of whom are main characters. Look.....the classics of the Romantic and Victorian era were....on some real other shit. Writing like the classics isn’t always a solid plan.

So that’s my extreme cautioning against third omniscient. I just don’t think it adds anything to most stories and is far too likely to jar or confuse readers and come across as head-hopping.

But third-limited on the other hand....

I ADORE third-limited. Let me explain why I like it.

You get all the perks of first person AND all the perks of third-person. You can be somewhat detached, but you still get a front row seat to the thoughts and feelings of one character at a time. When you really pull off a nice deep-third, you’re fully immersed in the character’s inner world, but there’s still a bit of a buffer. You still aren’t writing AS the character.

Here is a section of my book ‘Combustion’ in third-limited where I was going for deep-third.

~The flame birthed itself at the end of the match. It danced, red and orange, against the backdrop of the still night. Rachel opened her mouth as wide as she could, until the corners of her lips were stretched as far as they would go. She made sure that her mouth was a wide, round circle. Just like the man on fire. Probably just like Mary Reeser had done. She was going to spontaneously combust. She would do it now.

And she could stop waiting for it to happen. She was never going to have to be afraid of it happening again. It was all about to be over. Rachel watched the flame slide down lower, burning away at the wood of the match. It was going to reach her hand soon, so she had to do this fast. Spontaneous Human Combustion started inside the body.

Rachel understood why the man on fire had his mouth wide open.

There wasn't any time left.

Rachel took the match and placed it into her open mouth.~

It’s in third-person, but it’s still written in a way where we can feel her fear, her confusion, her dissociation. We can see her reasoning. Of course, her reasoning is flawed. She should not be trying to make herself spontaneously combust JUST so that she can stop being afraid of it happening.

So how do you know if you should choose third-limited or first? (because third omniscient and second person should rarely be used). Well, I’m biased, and I believe third-limited works well for most stories.

That being said, I have chosen first person for two of my stories. One is my now shelved manuscript ‘Femcel’ which I will eventually be rewriting and it will be retitled ‘Pick Me.’ The other is my collab story with Emily Hurricane ‘When The Darkness Takes Us.’

For ‘When The Darkness Takes Us’ I had a very specific reason for choosing first person. This character is a self-insert. It’s a fictionalized account of something very difficult I went through semi-recently.

So I suppose I’d say, when it’s a really emotional story with strong voice, first person may be a better choice. When it’s a very personal story, first person may be a better choice. When you’re writing a character who rants and raves and switches gears mid-thought-stream so quickly that a third-person narrator wouldn’t do it justice-it would only slow the stream-of-consiousness down.

I also chose first person for my book ‘Femcel’ which is not currently online, because I need to make some changes to it.

Here is an excerpt from ‘Femcel.’

~If every single day was a day off from work with Sailor Moon dvds and an entire pickle pizza all to myself, well, then I think life would be a-okay. Today has been great. I cleaned my room and then I pulled out my trusty Sailor Moon box set. Auntie and Mom-mom are both at work, so nobody to bug me about what I'm eating. I ordered a large pizza and I got the owner on the phone when the new guy didn't understand that they can put pickles on a pizza. It isn't on the menu, but they do it for me all the time.

I told him, "You charge me for a pepperoni pizza and tell the guy cooking it to put on pickles. Ask Jim. He always does it." But the guy still thought I was full of it.

Eventually they sorted it out though. And yeah, I know it's bad to eat an entire large pizza myself. Don't go thinking I'm a total pig. I only eat like this when I watch anime.

Usually I don't eat enough. Mom-mom says I'm too thin and she isn't wrong. If I lay on my stomach too long at night, my ribs start to hurt. I'm the only woman in my family with a stick body. Everybody else has nice curves. I barely have boobs and my butt is flat. I tried doing squats for awhile, but when nothing much happened, I figured it was probably all nonsense. You know? A placebo.

It's only four in the afternoon, but already it's getting dark. I hate winter. Especially once Christmas is over. I feel so upset and anxious every day in that long dead span of winter, January through March, when there's nothing to look forward to and it feels like the world just dead ass stopped. Sludge in every parking lot. Everything is cold and wet. Kek. And it's the middle of January. Top kek. (I mean that sarcastically. Obviously).~

I chose first for Ana’s story, because I imagined her as this very voicey character with this sweet and sarcastic personality. She’s also incredibly immature (which does make sense since she’s in her very early 20s) and I felt that youth and naiveté would across more strongly in first person.

So....what’s the hard and fast rule for deciding between third-limited and first?

I....uh....

I wish I could tell you lol

Like my last post about balancing dialogue with other storytelling elements, I have to say, I just play it by ear.

I will say, I think every writer should figure out early on which POV they prefer to write in. Try them all out. Try writing the same scenes in first and third and see which one you like better.

I did this while I was getting my B.A in Creative Writing and after several rounds of playing with third-limited and first, I discovered I’m incredibly partial to third-limited.

That doesn’t mean there isn’t any room for first. Like I said, I realized first was the better choice for two of my WIPs. But knowing that third-limited is my default style, I always have a starting point. I start most stories in third-limited and it’s only when third-limited starts to feel....well...limiting that I give first a whirl.

In the end, it’s about what YOU as the writer are most comfortable with. Some people say it depends on the story you want to tell, and I agree to an extent, but at the same time, if you hate writing in first person and you try to force it, the story may suffer for it. For years, I wrote exclusively in third-limited before I was comfortable enough to test out first person.

Third-limited and first both accomplish different things. First person has more voice and immediacy, while third-person allows a writer to be more poetic and detached.

Which POV do you like best? When you experiment with both POVs, which allows your story to come to life more?

There’s no real rule of thumb.

Like everything with writing, it’s all a matter of intuition; following your gut and looking at every story as a unique experience.

I know that was wishy-washy, but it’s the best I can do while still being honest!

There just aren’t any true absolutes with writing.

Good luck fellow writers <3

#writingadvice #writing #pov #second person pov #first person pov #thirdperson #thirdlimited #omniscient reader's viewpoint #self-insert #femcels

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