#otherwise school would have been cancelled and we could go out in the snow all day :

[fruitcoops]

Hi, Eve

Rose here from yesterday, thank you very much for the Birthday message, I wasn't expecting you to read it let alone reply but I was looking for Coops kids Birthday fluff specifically. It doesn't matter if you don't have time however as I don't want to be a bother.

Hello Rose, and happy (belated) 20th birthday! Sorry for the wait--I really wanted to get this one right to celebrate such an important number. I hope your day was absolutely fantastic! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Stella is an OC

Combined with asks for Sirius lightly making fun of Remus' accent and Remus yelling at a game show (@nazar4114)

“Medusa!” Stella shouted with all the force in her thirteen-year-old lungs. Remus leaned forward on the couch. “Medusa!”

The front door opened with a creak. “I’m h—”

“Yes!” they cheered in unison as Nicole answered correctly. Remus turned and gave Stella a double high-five, feeling his heart squeeze at the vivid joy on her round face. “Good guess.”

“I knew she was gonna get it,” Stella said with a pump of her fist as she turned back to the show and folded her legs underneath her.

“Gonna,” a familiar deep voice mimicked from the doorway. Paper bags rustled before footsteps stopped behind the couch; Remus tilted his chin up without sparing a glance, and Sirius pressed a laugh-laced kiss to his cheek before dropping one on Stella’s head as well. “You sound too much like your dad.”

“Love you, too,” Remus said wryly.

“I’ll take ‘Myths and Moths’ for 400, please.” Nicole’s voice snapped his attention back to the screen, and Stella narrowed her eyes.

“Daily Double!” the automated voice announced. Stella gasped; Remus bit his lower lip. “This mythical shield was wielded by Athena, and is sometimes said to be made of goat skin.”

“Aegis,” Stella whispered, then raised her voice. “It’s the Aegis, Nicole. You know this.”

“We know you do,” Remus said, scooting forward. “You just guessed whose head is on it.”

Nicole’s buzzer went off with two seconds to spare. “What is the Aegis?”

“Hell yeah!” Stella whooped.

Remus turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse you.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you two going to do this the whole afternoon?” Sirius asked from the kitchen, obviously amused. “We might need to get the neighbors some noise-cancelling headphones.”

Stella blew a dark lock of hair out of her eyes as she flopped her head back. “It’s almost final Jeopardy, papa. We have, like, ten minutes.”

Sirius blinked at her, then shook his head. “I swear you two share genes.”

“Ope, you caught me,” Remus said over the noise of the commercial break. “When I was 20 and had literally never left Wisconsin, I went and had a secret kid in Maine who looks terribly like you just so that someone would watch Jeopardy reruns with me thirteen years later. Oops.”

“It’s the truth,” Stella said with great gravity. “I remember.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t keep a smile down. He had never been able to hide around Stella, not once in the three years since they had adopted her. It was one of the things Remus loved most about him. “By the way, nobody under the age of fourteen is allowed in the kitchen for the next…hour. Ish.”

Stella squirmed around until she could rest her arms on the back of the couch. “What if I get thirsty?”

“I’m sure you can invoke birthday privileges and ask your dad to get something for you.”

“Birthday privileges?” Remus scoffed. “Nobody in this house has a birthday today. Yours was last month, and mine’s in March.”

“It’s my birthday,” Stella said.

“What? No, it’s not.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Your birthday is in June.”

“It’s today.”

“Or maybe July?”

“It’s today, in December, when there’s snow,” she insisted, throwing herself back against the pillows. “Come on, dad, that’s not funny anymore.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Is somebody too old to find their poor old dad amusing now? Can you go back to being twelve so somebody will laugh at my jokes again? I know, I know, we're super lame compared to all your friends’ parents—”

“So lame,” Sirius agreed from the kitchen.

“—but I like to think we get one more year of pre-teen cuteness before the teen angst takes over.”

Stella sat up again with a groan. Looking at her, Remus saw a mix of himself and Sirius that had always baffled him, considering they had adopted her comparatively late in her life; beneath it was something uniquely Stella. Maybe it was her double-jointed elbows, or the board-straightness of her hair next to their curls, but there was no mistaking that she was her own person through and through. He loved that about her. “I’m not going to be a terrible teenager.”

Sirius poked his head around the edge of the kitchen—his nose was adorned with a smudge of flour. “Can I record that for future use?”

“Non.”

“Ooo, using the French,” Remus hissed. “That transformation is already beginning.”

“It’s not like you were bad teenagers, right?” She settled upside-down on the couch with her flamingo-patterned socks high in the air.

“I almost convinced Grandma to let me dye my hair blue, but otherwise I was pretty good.”

“I was terrible,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t talk to anybody for a solid three years.”

Stella frowned. “How? I think I’d die if I did that.”

“He’s stubborn,” Remus stage-whispered.

“I heard that.”

Stella suppressed her laughter as best she could, but she was about as good at hiding her emotions around them as Sirius was. She didn’t really giggle—the amount her voice had deepened over the past three years always gave Remus whiplash—but her laugh had the same cadence as it did the first day they heard it. While Stella had been quiet at first, it only took love and time to bring her out of her shell. Within a year she settled into their lives like she was always meant to be there.

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “This is my last year before high school.”

“Does it feel different?”

“Not really.” She paused, then shrugged. “And a little. I don’t feel older. It just feels like there’s stuff I won’t get to do anymore.”

“And a lot more you will get to do.” Sirius left his dishtowel on the counter before joining them on Stella’s other side. “You can drive soon, you’ll get a longer curfew, you get more freedom…”

“I guess.”

“What are you going to miss?” Remus asked as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. It was a basic Lions FAN jersey; he was fairly sure she bought it to be ironic. That, and she only wore one of theirs if she was upset with the other, or if one needed a boost at a game.

“I dunno.” A few beats of silence passed. “My classmates. My team. It feels like everything’s going to turn upside down.”

“You can still keep in touch with your friends, and I bet your team won’t be too different,” Sirius said quietly. “Even if it does, that doesn’t mean you have to give all of them up. People change in different ways. They come and go on their own time.”

“There’s going to be a lot of upside-downs over the next couple years, kid.” Remus offered her a smile. “But you’re going to be just fine.”

“You two sound like such dads right now.”

“This might shock you, but that’s because we are.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up and she lolled her head to the side to look at Sirius. “Is the cake done?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“Will you watch final Jeopardy with us?”

“What’s the category?”

“US Presidents.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, but nodded. She grinned and turned herself upright to snuggle against his arm. “You just enjoy watching me lose.”

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

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Sirius called from the kitchen.

“On three,” Remus said, raising his phone camera. “One, two, three!”

“Happy birthday to you,” over a dozen voices sang. They were off-tempo and so out of key the composer was probably spinning in his grave, but Stella’s clear joy didn’t waver for a millisecond even as her cheeks reddened. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Stella, happy birthday to you!”

Finn, of course, dragged out the last note. So did Leo, Logan, Kasey, James, Lily, and Talker in varying degrees of awful harmony attempts. It was terrible, and beautiful. “Make a wish,” Sirius said softly as he set the cake down and stepped back. His eyes were the brightest quicksilver Remus had seen in many moons.

Stella closed her eyes, took a breath, and blew as hard as she could—the entire room erupted into cheers when all the candles went out. She was laughing and blushing at the same time when Remus turned the lights back on, though the humor won out in the end and she helped pass plates of cake to her many aunts and uncles. Like every year prior, Regulus managed to smear a bit of frosting on her chin, only to immediately deny it with great offense when she noticed. It was becoming a bit of a tradition—one that Remus never grew tired of.

I know what I would wish for, Remus thought as he looked around the table at their patchwork family. Celeste, Dumo, and his own parents had no doubt spoiled their first grandchild with ‘cusp of adulthood’ gifts, and Natalie and Lily would certainly steal her away after cake for some girl time. Finn and Logan would remain the fun uncles while Leo and Regulus kept their thrones as the cool uncles; Stella would interrogate Jules on the intricacies of high school for at least an hour before they destroyed everyone in a snowball fight. The world they built together had a place for everyone.

I would wish for this. This, for us, forever. It wasn’t a bad eternity to imagine.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #coops kid #stella #lions #regulus black #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #birthday party

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 3

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

+ Minors DNI 

previous | part | next

"So what, they were just arguing outside the dorm?" Toshi asked, stretched out on the couch in my workshop, manspreading as he rubbed the back of his neck. One of his long legs not quite fitting on the small red couch, hanging over edge.

"Yeah...I mean, I don't think it was too serious but there was definitely yelling." I stated, flicking my protective goggles down over my eyes and welding new panels on some of Bakugo's equipment, keeping the lines clean and crisp. Not wanting to feel or hear the wrath of Katsuki Bakugo if something was out of place.

"And you were in the bushes?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow, laughing at me as he laid down further on the couch.

"Not in a creepy way! In a what the fuck, dodge and evade kinda way." I said, my voice becoming higher as I defended myself. I had to admit, the situation last night would have sounded suspicious if I had told anyone else. A half-black 18-year-old, hiding in the bushes listening to a conversation between two rich popular people in the middle of the night. Yeah very sus indeed. But I knew that my story was safe with Hitoshi, hoping that he might even have some insider 3A knowledge.

"Well, nothing too exciting happened after they left. Yaomomo walked in head held high, made some tea and went to bed." He said, yawning and placing his arm over his eyes. He didn't mention Todoroki. Did he not go back inside? Where did he find himself last night? I didn't dwell any longer in the bushes to find out, almost regretting that decision now.

"So no gossip? I'm disappointed." I said shrugging, faking disappointment. He laughed behind me, his arm still shielding his eyes as he shifted and got comfortable, preparing to nap as I worked into the late afternoon no doubt. Mr Aizawa having to cancel their private training for 'Pro Hero Reasons'.

I never cared much for the drama of UA students, hero course or otherwise, but recently a two-toned boy had piqued my interest. The situation last night not helping me want to mind my own business. Usually everyone was too busy or too tired for drama, a fact that I had come to love since being at UA. Gone were the days of schoolyard bullying and the gossip about who was hooking up with who.

"What's going on in that brilliant brain of yours?" Hitoshi asked, his arm still over his eyes, not once had he even looked up.

"I can feel the neurons firing in your brain from here." He said before I could answer. It was times likes these that I hated he knew me so well.

What was going on in my brain? It felt like for the first time in 18 years I didn't know exactly what I wanted or how I would go about getting it. Shoto Todoroki's name had really thrown a spanner in the works from the moment it was listed next to mine.

"He is quite interesting... that's all I'll say about it." I said in Hitoshi's direction, looking back down, welding the remaining panels together.

"What? You have a thing for Todoroki now? Well get in line behind the rest of the school." He said laughing.

"I don't have a thing! I just find him interesting. Is that a crime?"

I put my equipment away and stood back admiring the finished product, hand on my hip and once again covered in grease. The thick black layer of grime almost a permanent feature of my skin since 1st year. Most of my clothes stained and musty. Smelling like the workshop and a truck had a baby.

"Speaking of interesting... Shishida said he knew you were there last night. I saw him talking to Kaibara about it this morning before class, looking all flustered." Toshi said, finally getting up and coming to stand beside me with one hand in his pocket and the other atop my head.

"I forget that his quirk lets him hear and smell everything. It's a little unsettling." I stated, a shiver going up my spine. I did forget about Shishida and his beast quirk, how he probably heard the whole thing and everything that was said and done last night in Sen's dorm room. Since mine and Hitoshi's most recent conversation about Sen, I have been feeling worse. Wishing that I could like him more or at least have the decency to cut him off. As much as I hated the thought of a relationship the thought of being alone forever with no one sounded even worse, as selfish as it sounded. I was using Sen to feel something, something that I knew would never grow and we would never be more than this.

"Am I a terrible person?" I asked, out of the blue. Shocking even Hitoshi as his eyes went wide.

"Of course not, why would you ask that?"

"I can feel it, I feel how much he likes me and wants me to stay but I just can't. I worry that I won't ever like anyone like that." I said sadly, dropping my head and removing the helmet, rubbing my cheek with the back of my hand.

"Hey! Boys and girls may come and go but you and me are forever. Don't ever forget that. I've seen your heart and I know how big it is and I know exactly who you are." He said, putting his long finger under my chin and lifting my head, a small smile on his handsome face.

"I don't know what will happen in the future. But regardless I'll always be on your side."

                                                              *

The next few days continued on like any other, morning classes then UA class followed by after school and extra curricular activities. The last bell of the day rang out, dismissing students and teachers who were eager to get back to the dorms to start enjoying their one day weekend. Sunday being the only day off for all students.

"So... What are you wearing? I'm thinking that red dress where your boobs look absolutely amazing." Mei said as she linked our arms as we left out respective workshops and matched step as we left the main UA building.

"Hmm maybe, I mean they are one of my best assets." I agreed, replying to Hitoshi's text message about what time we should head over.

"I'm excited. Iida has been freaking out all week trying to mentally prepare for tonight, I can already picture him running around offering people water or something lame like that." She giggled, her face lighting up as she talked about Iida.

Mei and Tenya weren't official but to all of us they might as well have been. They even spent last Christmas together, sharing their first kiss in the snow. I think Iida was hesitant after what happened to his brother, not wanting anything terrible to happen to the people he loved most because of his career path. A noble man through and through.

Ding.

Sen- Hey, are you coming to the party tonight?

I hadn't seen Sen since the last time we had sex and I left without an explanation, saying that I would text him. Which I had not done.

I had been thinking about everything recently, liking Sen enough to not want to hurt him but not liking him enough to want to be his girlfriend. We were both already in too deep, whatever I said now even if it was letting him down easy was going to be harsh. That's what happens when you are a selfish piece of shit who just wants to get dicked down. I sighed heavily and looked down, rubbing my temples. Over having to think about this whole situation, and just wanting to crawl into bed and never come out.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what is this? I don't like it." Mei said, waving her hand up and down, gesturing to my whole body.

"Why aren't you excited! We always get excited for parties." She stated, linking our arms once more and walking us down the halls.

"I'm excited. Who said I wasn't excited."

"Oh just your face, your body language and your whole aura."

She was probably right, the introvert in me wanted nothing more than to stay home and avoid any and all confrontation about the situation that I had caused. I didn't answer her as we continued to walk, making our way to the huge doors and pushing them open. Coming face to face with Sen, Shishida and Tetsu Tetsu. All of them turning and looking directly at us as we walked out.

"Hey guys! Wanna walk together?" Tetsu asked, his usual cheerful self on full display. His sunshine personality and aloofness clearly missing the weird tension between me and Sen.

"Um..." Sen started, blushing slightly and looking in my direction, his eyes looking sad as they took me in.

"We would love to! 3 future pro heroes as our personal chaperons? How did we get so lucky?" Mei answers, her voice getting higher as she looked between me and Sen, picking up whatever energy we were giving off.

We went the long way, the plan was to drop us off at our dorm then the 3 boys continue onto theirs. The conversation flowed naturally as we all talked about the party tonight and offers which we had gotten for work studies and internships.

"Hatsume I really loved the gear you made me! You guys are so cool, I wish I was half as smart as you. Mr Vlad might actually pass me then." Testu Testsu confessed, smiling and showing off his sharp teeth to us. The rest of the group continued to make small talk as we walked, me and Sen lagging behind the group, not walking together but close enough that I could hear his breathing. Fast and almost panicked, cleary working himself up.

"Y/N. Can I talk to you for a sec?" Sen asked quietly behind me so only I could hear. I stilled, scared that if I turned around, my heart and head would be even more confused. As if that was possible.

"You guys can go on without us." I said to the others, smiling at them as they waved us off.

"I'm s."

"I just."

We both said at the same time, both of us stepping forward towards each other. A blush making it's way up Sen's cheeks. He was incredibly cute. The type of cute that if you bought him home your parents would approve. The type of cute that was safe.

"You know that I like you, I don't try to hide it Y/N" He stated confidently, his darks eyes staring into mine.

"I love being with you, not just physically. I want to be someone you can rely on. Be there for you whenever you need. Why won't you give me a chance?" He said louder this time. My heart hammering in my chest. Not at his sudden confess but because I was scared of my answer, scared of being labeled the bad guy and rightfully so.

"Please, come with me to the party as my date and just give me a chance. There has to be something there or else we wouldn't have made it this far."

That's where he was wrong. People could sleep with people and not want to date them. People could promise each other the world and leave them the very next day. I knew that I could have sex with Sen a million times and even then, it would only be sex. He would only ever be cute, and if things ever went any further he would only break my heart or me his.

Despite this, as I looked at his eyes and his tall frame looming over me I answered with the complete contradiction.

"Yes, meet me outside my dorm at 7?"  

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #sen kaibara #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #todoroki x reader #shoto smut

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Snow Days // G.W.

Summary: Snow falls in the night. Hogwarts is a boarding school that has never had a snow day... until now.

A/N: More Professor!George Weasley... because I have taken this headcanon for myself and will run with it until I find something else to hyper fixate on...

Warnings: snow, fluff, cute, established relationship.

Word count: 2.3k

Sometime in the night, the rain that had been forecast changed. Sometime in the night, it froze, becoming snow. It started slow, a few flakes here and there.

The flakes then turned larger, growing heavier as they blanketed the floor. The flurries becoming too much for any creature to stay outside for too long; seeking out warmth and comfort as the snow continues to fall.

Instantly the castle that had always a charm about it was transformed to an ethereal state. The grounds accepted the snow, taking it in, accepting it as if it had always been there. Watching the snow fall from your window, you take in the rapid transformation of the grounds you call home, knowing that in a few hours, the fresh snow would be trampled upon by masses of students rushing through the cold.

Hogwarts was a boarding school. The students lived on site meaning that there was no commute to be disrupted and no excuse for not attending classes. Throughout its long and colourful history, Hogwarts had never known a snow day.

Stepping away from the window, you shake your head, already knowing that your lessons that evening would have to be cancelled. Snow was lovely, and snow days were non-existent at the school, but the sky would not be visible enough tonight to seek out the stories amongst the stars.

Turning to the bed, you spy George’s form amongst the pillows and blankets. You smile softly to yourself, his snores punctuating the air. You don’t rush through your routine, savouring every step as the weariness settles over your body, calling for your bed and the warm embrace of George’s arms. Tonight’s lesson was one you would remember; students too excited about the change in the weather instead of the stars, but their distraction provided ample entertainment.

Settling in next to the love of your life, George’s arms automatically find you. As your eyes slip shut, you’re already thinking of your plans for the snow.

----------

George Weasley woke that morning, ambled over to the window and promptly groaned. For some, snow was a blessing. To George, it meant grumbling students and complaints about the coldness of his classroom. It didn’t matter what spells he used; the Dungeon classroom was doomed to remain cold no matter how long he remained teaching at the school.

It’s going to be a long day; he thinks to himself as he doesn’t rush his morning routine. He sets the kettle on the stove to boil before returning to the bedroom where he finds you sleeping soundly, curled up on your right side with your left arm outstretched to his side of the bed as if seeking his warmth.

He perches on the bed, reaching out to run a gentle hand through your hair. Your nose wrinkles as George’s touch brings you back from your dreams, bringing you to consciousness.

“Have you seen the snow?” You ask, voice harsh with sleep.

George hums in answer, leaning down to kiss your head. “I have,” He whispers, “I’m already dreading class.”

You laugh, stretching into a comfier position, pulling the blankets closer to your body. “Is it bad to say I’m glad it’s you and not me?”

George chuckles, “Not bad at all. Go back to sleep, love. I’ll find you later.”

His words are answered with a mumbled ‘love you’. Years, he realises as he shakes his head, returning to the kitchen. It’s been years now, and still those words leaving your lips continues to make his heart race and leave his mind in a whirl.

George dresses quickly after downing the remains of his tea. He needs to be in his classroom early to heat it as best he can for the students that will have no doubt been out in the snow before beginning their classes for the day.

Students arrive in dribs and drabs from the sounding of the first bell, but they all have one thing in common. They’re all covered in melting snow and would have preferred to remain outside than come to class.

“Why can’t we be out in the snow?” A student demands, throwing his hand dramatically towards the window where flurries of snowflakes are just visible.

George tries his best not to throw a withering look in the direction of the teenager. He understands; whenever he was in their shoes, he spent more time skipping lessons and running around in the snow with Fred causing all sorts of mayhem. He’s a teacher now, however, and there are rules to be followed.

Though… those rules can always be bent.

George searches the classroom; eyes landing on the student who voice their protest. Matthew Taylor, a Seventh Year, predicted to do very well in his final examinations. The teenager’s hair is still dripping slightly from the snow melting there, and his eyes are bright from the snowball fight he had been involved in before rushing late to class.

Closing the textbook on his desk, George sighs, eyeing the clock. It wouldn’t do them any harm to end their lesson early. George claps his hands together, bringing the attention of the class back to him. “Alright,” He begins, “Have we at least managed to answer questions one to five?”

When most of the class nods, George continues, “Then get out of here. Dress warmly if you’re going out in the snow. Stay away from the lake and don’t get caught.”

His class cheer as they pack away their things, rushing out of the door, wanting to get changed as quickly as possible so they can get outside.

George shakes his head fondly as he watches them leave, thinking back to the days when he and Fred would organise snowball fights between the houses, knowing that Gryffindor would come out on top. They won every time; at one point they had not only himself and Fred, but Oliver Wood and Angelina Johnson using their deadly aim to weaken whichever house had been chosen to go up against the house of Godric.

Thinking of you and your place in bed, George sends a quick note to all students, cancelling the rest of his lessons for the rest of the day. He reminds students to be safe if they choose to go outside, to think carefully and to prepare snowballs well in advance of any fight to go down.

With that sorted, George leaves his classroom, closing the door happily.

McGonagall stops George in the corridor with a stern call of his name. “Professor Weasley, would you care to tell me why you’ve cancelled the rest of your classes for today?”

George gestures to the continued snow fall. “They weren’t going to pay any attention; not when they want to be outside having fun.”

McGonagall purses her lips, intent on arguing her point when George interrupts her once more. “Headmistress, think of it this way: Hogwarts has never had a snow day and it still doesn’t have to have one. We could just give the students a break from all the work they’ve been doing. I think it’ll help in the long run.”

A smile crosses George’s face at the exact moment he knows he has won McGonagall over. She uncrosses her arms and briefly smiles at the redhead, “Tell me Professor, what are your plans for your suddenly free day?”

“I have two answers for you, Minnie. Which would you like to hear?”

McGonagall laughs, shaking her head at the Weasley. There were very few people these days who could make her laugh and get away with calling her ‘Minnie’. She stands aside, “On with you. Go have some fun.”

“I plan to,” George answers as he turns away from the Headmistress, listening to her laughter follow him down the corridor where he rushes up the stairs to the rooms he shares with you.

You haven’t moved in the few hours that George has been teaching; you remain fast asleep, curled on your side, cuddling George’s pillow. If possible, George falls more in love with you then and there. He didn’t know you reached for his pillow in his absence; he makes a mental note to sneak some of his clothes into your pyjama draw for you to wear on a night.

Shrugging off his blazer, George situates himself on the side of the bed, reaching out to shake your shoulder gently. “Love,” He calls out quietly, “Love, wake up.”

Your eyes screw up tightly as your brought back to consciousness. You run a hand over your face, ridding it of the sleep that had gathered there. “George?” You question, confused, “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching Seventh Years?”

His hand rubs up and down your side. “I should,” He pauses, “But I thought the snow looked more fun.”

“You cancelled your classes?”

“I did. McGonagall wasn’t too happy, but I persuaded her otherwise.”

“Of course you did,” You laugh, “You’re her favourite.”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” George laughs, smiling widely. He shifts on the bed, lying down to next you, running a finger down your cheek.

“What do you plan to do now that you’re free?”

George’s finger leaves your cheek; his hand now gripping your waist, pulling you closer to him as he answers. “I plan on going out in the snow, want to join?”

His eyes are bright with mischief and joy as he waits for you to reply. It’s a sight that you saw often, but it still managed to take your breath away. “I’ll join you. Let me get ready and I’ll join you.”

-----------

You inhale sharply as you take the first step outside; the cold quickly seeping through the layers of clothing worn. George’s hand remains warm in yours as he leads you through the courtyard, dodging the snowballs thrown by Slytherins aimed for the Gryffindors. George cannot contain the laugh that leaves him as he hears the angry cries from his house; he knew from experience it would not be long before the lions would unleash hell on the snakes.

It isn’t as busy the further you walk into the grounds of the school; students preferring to stay where there is natural protection that can be made into bases. The grounds of the school are magical when there is no snow, but there’s something about the weather that adds to the appeal of the school. It stands out proudly amongst the bleak colour of the snowfall; its history emanating from its walls. It has seen a thousand snowfalls and would stand to see a thousand more.

George drops your hand as he bends down to gather some of the snow. You watch him curiously, catching sight of the teenager he had once been.

“Don’t you dare,” You warn, laughter already in your voice as you take a long step back from the redhead. George smiles at you angelically, his eyebrows raised in question before he shows his hand without saying a word.

The snowball flies through the air, hitting you squarely in the chest, knocking the air out of you.

“You’re in for it now, Weasley!” You cry, launching yours over to where George is bent in half with laughter. The snowball lands in his hair and his laughter promptly stops. He falls silent as he shakes the snow from his hair

“George!” You laugh as his arms wrap around you. His body knocks you both to the ground; the snow softening your impact.

“How did you know I wanted to make a snow angel?” You joke, stretching your arms out wide and beginning the process of creating the snow figure.

George laughs, rolling off you but not before dropping a sweet kiss to your lips. “I just know you that well,” He states simply, waving his arms and legs in the snow to form the angel shape.

His words warm you so much that you absently worry that the snow underneath you will begin to melt. “George?” You question innocently, sneakily gathering snow in both hands.

“Love?” He answers from beside you, wondering what could be on your mind as he watches more snow start to fall from the sky.

Refusing to answer, you flip onto your side, throwing snow onto him. You begin to splutter with laughter as you catch sight of the shocked expression on his face. Eyes wide and mouth open as his hair drips with the snow thrown on him.

“That does it,” George announces, brushing the snow off his body.

Your laughter dies at his words; falling silent you wonder what he has in store for you now. George doesn’t give you much chance to ponder that idea, however. He straddles you, no snow in his hands, but a lot of love in his eyes as he presses you further into the ground.

“What do I do with you now?” George questions, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. His hands begin to roam your body, igniting your veins despite the layers and layers of clothing separating you.

“I don’t know…” You trail off with a shiver, refusing to break eye contact. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let’s get you inside and warm… then you can find out.”

-----------

The fire in your shared rooms throws out masses of heat, warming the both of you up quickly. George places two mugs of tea on the table, settling himself next to you on the battered old couch.

“I think today has been my favourite day of teaching so far,” He murmurs, fingers drawing distracting patterns on your thigh.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” You answer, eyes focused on the way his fingers are circling the skin on your thigh, remembering his promise from earlier.

“A snow day,” He laughs, fingers now absent from your thigh as he fingers grip your chin, turning your face to his.

You hum happily as you respond to his kiss, “Who doesn’t love a snow day?”

******

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#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley imagines

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

The rise and fall of our love

part one | part two

playlist: broken by jake bugg

no.1 party anthem by arctic monkeys

pairing: james x reader, james x lily 

warnings: language, angst, fluff 

A/N: sooo im back with part two!!! thank you for the fantastic feedback and appreciation you gave me on the first part, and i hope this lives up to your expectations!!!! sending all the love xoxo

masterlist

(moodboard made by me)

"How is he?" 

"Y/N…" Remus began, putting down his quill. Your gaze never left the essay in front of him, refusing to see the pity that his stare held. Because that - that glint in his eyes, the way the right corner of his mouth lifted in a poor attempt of a smile - that was pity. 

You shook your head softly. How did it get here? 

"Am I not allowed to know? He won't speak to me or look at me. I almost feel guilty even though I know I haven't done anything wrong." 

"James is…"

"A fool." 

You knew he was trying not to smile. "Yes, that is the obvious answer. But he is still with Lily." 

Of course he is. What he said that day - or rather what he smelt - has been the talk of the school for weeks. People were staring at you in the halls, pointing behind your back - so much that you stopped hanging out anywhere else besides your dorm and the library. 

And James - he never bothered to say anything to you. It hurt more than you expected to, but you didn't let it show. I am fine, you said every time one of your friends asked. Then, you would smile kindly and change the subject. You would see them exchange worried glances - you pretended you didn't notice. Soon they stopped asking, and you stopped pretending. 

"Do they love each other?" Something in your pathetic heart broke at the quiver in your voice. Love.

Love. Never in your life have you heard a more overrated word. So much loss, so much damage made for love. Was it really worth it? The way your stomach dropped and the slight tremble of your lip, the ache that would just not go away - were these the cost of love? 

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze. He watched you in awe - as if he read the truth in your eyes. You felt the tears roll on your cheeks, hitting the parchments sprawled on your desk. You let them fall. He opened his mouth, then closed it. 

"I understand." you whispered. 

You got up, but Remus caught your hand. 

"Do you…?" 

You smiled softly. "Does it matter anymore?" 

He let go of your hand and you walked away. 

×××

"Hogsmeade, today?" Sirius asked as he plopped down next to you. He took a big bite of your sandwich - and noticing your icy glare, he put his hand over your shoulder and pressed a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You pushed him off you and wiped your face. 

"Bloody hell! You even kiss like a dog!" you retorted. 

"No, I don't." 

"No, he doesn't." Marlene smirked and you rolled your eyes. 

"Hogsmeade, you were saying?" 

"Yes - Remus and Lily are busy with their important top-secret prefect duties and James has quidditch practice, so it'll be just us. I guess you don't mind third-wheeling for a bit." 

"Can't wait!" you feigned excitement. 

×××

It was freezing, to say the least. You were glad you had two pairs of socks on, otherwise you might have had to postpone the trip and pay a visit to the hospital wing instead. 

"I don't sound like that!" Sirius whined, handing you and Marlene your butterbeer - you've decided to stop at The Three Broomsticks. 

"Of course you do, darling. And may I add that you look ravishing." you purred in your best impression of Sirius' voice. Then, you turned to Marlene and winked. "You are the most gorgeous person in here."

"Careful, that's not true." a voice caught your attention. No, no no no.

"Oi - Prongs, mate! Thought you had quidditch practice!" Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. 

"Got cancelled because of the snow. Hello." he nodded and smiled towards you and Marlene, then pulled a chair at the table. It was the first time he's talked to you in weeks. 

You didn't bother to answer. In fact, you didn't even look at him. The rest of your stay at the pub passed in a haze, with careless answers and quick nods. 

×××

Before you knew it, you were left on a bench with James, waiting for the others to "buy some quills from Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop", as they were in big need of "quills" and "didn't have any left to write the Transfiguration essay we had due Wednesday". Oh, if only you had Transfiguration on Wednesdays! 

"So… how have you been?" James trailed off, rubbing his neck. Ah, so that's how he wanted to play this game.Too bad. 

"Why, James?" you ask, gazing at the shops in front of you. "Why did you ignore me? What happened that day?" 

He sighed. "I don't know. I- I made a mistake. You shouldn't have found out, not like that." 

"You have some guts, don't you?" you spat. 

"Excuse me?" You faced him. That face - the face you dreamt about, the one you kept telling yourself you hated - you missed that face, you missed him so much that you were glad you were sitting down, for you might as well have fallen to your knees. 

"Do you know how it is," you started, feeling the tears pooling in your eyes, "to feel so alone that you find yourself crying without a reason? Do you know how it feels to spend your nights wondering why you weren't enough - what you did to deserve this? Even if you did nothing wrong?"

"Do you know how it's like to watch the person you love drift away from you? To watch that person become a stranger? Do you know how it felt to know that you wouldn't even look at me?" You were now shouting. "Tell me, James! Look me in the eyes and tell me!" 

Silence. You watched him trying to find an answer and you silently begged him to say something. 

"Do you love me?" he whispered incredulously. Not that. 

"Would it change anything if I said I do?" 

"I don't know."

"Do you still love her?" You couldn't say her name. 

"I don't know." He let his head fall in his hands. For the first time in weeks, you laughed. You laughed until your vision went blurry, until you felt the salty taste of your tears. 

"You know nothing, James Potter." you sneered, then got up. 

You made your way back to the castle alone. 

×××

"Guys guys I have the most amazing idea." Sirius came rushing in the Great Hall, managing to trip and almost fall. He quickly regained his composure and continued running as if nothing had happened. 

"That's new." Remus said while reading the prophet. 

It's been weeks since that night in Hogsmeade, weeks in which you've avoided James at all costs, despite his numerous attempts at conversation. 

"I'll choose to ignore that." Sirius glared at his friend, then continued. "Don't you all want to go for a dip?" 

"I think I speak for all of us when I say that I do not intend to die in the freezing lake on a lovely day of winter." You scowl, munching on your pastries. You loved pastries. (mood) 

Sirius smirked. "I'm glad you are all so joyous so early in the morning, but for your knowledge, I wasn't talking about the lake. My dear, smartass friends, I was thinking of crashing the Prefects bathroom!" 

That got your attention. You looked at Remus full of hope and he shrugged. 

"And how exactly are we going to do that? "

"Well, this is where our prefect friends come in handy."

"Lily would never help you do this." James cuts in. 

"That's why I wasn't planning on inviting her." Much to your surprise James didn't object. "You forgot about our other prefect friend - and I'm looking at you, Moony." 

You all looked at Remus who seemed a tad bit uncomfortable. "I guess - alright? But if anyone catches us, it's your fault." he pointed his finger at Sirius. 

"I solemnly swear." He put his hand over his heart, then winked. 

×××

"Looks like your plan to ignore James isn't gonna last." Marlene said while stuffing all the towels she could find in her bag. 

"I'm aware of that." You really were. You've mentally prepared yourself to spend the night in the same room with him for the past week. "Ready? The boys are waiting." 

"Yeah, let's go." You were to go to the bathroom in groups of three using the cloak, then spend the night there. 

"Alright," Sirius' head popped from under the cloak "we'll go together - Remus, James and Peter are already there. Come on." he whispered. 

You got to the bathroom in no time and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach. You felt pathetic - you were all going to hang out as friends. 

Marlene's hand squeezed yours - everything will be alright. It was your thing; back in the day, you used to do this every time the other would be anxious about something. You looked at her and smiled, squeezing back twice - I know. 

You entered and your mouth flew open.  You've never seen a more luxurious bathroom before. The "bathtub" was easily the size of a medium sized pool. Greek caryatids held the archways, and the stained glass windows reflected their patterns on the marble floor tiles. 

"I suddenly feel bad for not working harder to be a prefect - if I had known this would be my bathroom, I would've gladly learnt the entire History of Magic coursebook by heart" Marlene said, with a small pout on her face and her arms crossed. 

"Same here." Your gaze followed the sculptures on the ceiling and slowly fell on him. He looked angelic - the way the coloured moonlight caressed his face, the faint blush on his cheeks - made him part of the setting. 

There was no point in lying to yourself. You liked him, despite everything he's done, everything he's said, you continued to like him. All those comforting lies you've said were trying to cover the inevitable truth, the truth which had been well hidden somewhere deep inside your soul. Until now. 

You stripped out of your clothes, fully aware of his impertinent stare. You stepped into the pool, sighing in pleasure at the warmth of the water. 

"Wanna play anything?" you asked no one in particular. 

"Oh, we should play shoulder wars!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly.

"I think I'm gonna skip this!" Peter announced from his chair. 

You looked at James, then turned to Remus. You rose your eyebrows inquisitively, and he smiled kindly. 

"I guess imma skip this one as well." James said, slightly disappointed. 

"Come on, Marls, we gotta kick some ass."

And so did the games begin. 

×××

You were trying, and failing miserably to keep your balance on Remus' shoulders. 

"Haha- losers!" Marlene laughed. It was your sixth time losing.

"Y/N, I think I'll give up now, before this becomes too humiliating." Remus said while getting out of the water and pulling out his book. 

"No Remus, you can't give up now! I know we can do this!" you saw him sit comfortably in an armchair, and something clicked into your mind. "You ditch me to read? And sabotaged me? Remus John Lupin, I'm disappointed."

"Take Prongs instead, he's far more competitive than I am." he smiled innocently. So this was his plan. 

You turned to James, and he got up excitedly. You got on his shoulders, and his hands tentatively touched your legs. You saw Marlene and Sirius smirking and you glared at them. 

×××

The score was close. It was the match point. Marlene was desperately trying to push you when you came up with the winning idea. You splashed some water into her face, obstructing her vision. Then, you tickled her and she fell. 

"And that's how it's done!" you shout, raising your fist. Marlene's head appeared from under the water, clearly mad. 

"That was not fair!" 

"There's no such thing as fair!" Marlene smirked, as if she was saying oh, really? and pushed James with such brute strength that he fell, taking you with him. 

He caught you before your head could hit the bottom. He lifted you up bridal style and you put your left hand around his neck and moved the other one from your nose to his shoulder. You stayed in his arms, not wanting to let go. You were gazing into each other's eyes, breathing heavily, when it hit you. 

You loved him. 

And he was still with Lily. 

You pulled away from his embrace, breaking the stare. "It's not right - Lily…" you mutter, getting out of the water. 

The others seemed all deeply interested in Remus' book. You could even hear Sirius asking questions about the plot. You turned away; James was still in the pool, in the same place, trying to make out the meaning of what happened. 

It wasn't fair. 

Life wasn't fair. 

<3

stay tuned for the next part and lmk what you think❤️

taglist: @futurewriter2000, @puppycat714, @booksbeforebois, @slytherinquill, @screennamealreadyused, @fific7, @with1love1anu @slytherinwriter618 @angelinathebook @mischiefsemimanaged @remibarnes22 @hxfflxpxffs @approved-by-dentists @hss20052313 @pregnant-piggy @marauderswhisperer @lumoscharlie

#James Potter #james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic #james x reader #james potter x lily evans #Prongs #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #Moony #Padfoot #Wormtail #james potter imagine #Lily Evans #james x lily #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #marauders fic #HP FIC #HP #hp fanfic #hogwarts #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Harry Potter #Harry Potter fic

[cdelphiki]

There Are Worse Ways to Spend Christmas

Honestly, holiday travel was the worst, in Tim’s opinion. The absolute worst thing on the face of the planet, and an all around terrible way to spend time right around Christmas.

Between crowded airports, snobby entitled irate passengers, and frequent weather cancellations, traveling during December was probably the worst thing ever.

And yes, that was very much exaggerating, because Tim’s mind immediately supplied several things that had happened that year that beat flying near Christmas in the ‘terrible’ category, but he just wasn’t in a good mood, so he was going to be dramatic about it.

Bruce wanted the lot of them to meet up at the cabin in Colorado to have a nice, quiet Christmas with just the family. Which, on paper, sounded nice. Christmas with all the kids plus Alfred and Bruce, far away from Gotham and the social engagements they’d be expected to attend otherwise sounded incredibly relaxing.

But that was before Tim processed that he’d have to fly with Damian, commercial, to Colorado to meet up with everyone else.

Why?

Because his family hated him, obviously.

The private plane was currently in Japan, where Bruce and Alfred were finishing up a series of meetings at the Tokyo office, and since it would be bringing them to Colorado that day, it was unavailable to bring Damian and Tim, the only two left in Gotham so close to Christmas, to Colorado. Stupid school lasting until the Friday right before Christmas Eve, which was on a Monday that year, meant they couldn’t have just left early to allow the jet to bring them all.

No.

Tim Drake and Damian Wayne had to fly commercial. On Christmas Eve eve.

First class, of course, but on small little regional jets, first class was a paltry comparison to the comfort to which they were accustomed. And the whole “unaccompanied minor” thing was really grating at Tim’s nerves. Because Damian wasn’t unaccompanied. Tim was right there. He was 16, and according to the airline’s policy, that made Damian accompanied. But that didn’t stop the stupid flight attendants from being extra attentive.

At least they were being left relatively alone during their layover in Chicago.

Which was how Tim found himself curled up into one of the kind-of comfortable waiting chairs near their gate, playing a game on his iPad, completely ignoring his little brother. It was the most peace he’d had all day. He could still see Damian over his knees. Kind of. Saw his spiky hair in the next seat over, at least, so he wasn’t being entirely neglectful.

But Damian wasn’t bothering him. Wasn’t trying to pick a fight or release his frustrations on Tim, so Tim was going to enjoy every single second of it.

Then, of course, the gate agent had to ruin the entire night.

“Attention passengers, Flight 1029 to Aspen has been delayed,” she announced over the speaker, and Tim couldn’t make out the rest of her announcement over the loud chorus of groans from everyone around them. Because the flight was supposed to begin boarding in about 10 minutes.

His phone buzzed with a notification from the American Airlines app, which informed him that it was delayed by three hours.

“This is ridiculous,” Damian pouted, hitting Tim’s legs with his coat as he slung it off himself to stand, “the third weather delay today. You would think airlines would be used to flying in the snow. It’s not like it doesn’t happen every year.”

“It’s one of those dumb named storms,” Tim said, scrolling through the weather report in Aspen to see if in three hours it would be any better, “it’s basically a blizzard.”

“That does not change my opinion,” Damian drawled, rolling his eyes as he stared out the window directly behind Tim.

“So because hurricanes happen every year, pilots should know how to fly through those? Get real, Damian.”

“Tt. It’s just snow.”

“Snow and wind and zero visibility,” Tim said, flipping to the Hilton app to reserve a room at the airport’s hotel. The weather report wasn’t looking good, and he had a feeling that the flight would be outright cancelled. If that happened, he wanted a room in the airport. He’d rather not deal with crowded shuttles to an off-site hotel once the airport finally cancelled all the flights to the areas being assaulted by Winter-storm Fisher.

Seriously, why the hell did they name snowstorms now?

Tim reserved the room under Bruce’s name, because it would be impossible otherwise to get a room for a 10 and 16 year old. The hotel really didn’t need to know that Bruce wasn’t even in the country and wouldn’t be staying with them.

“Damian?” one of the gate agents said, as she approached the two of them in the waiting area, “So the flight has been delayed by-”

“Yes, three hours. We are aware,” Damian snapped, “As I keep telling you people, I do not require your hovering. My father did not request the unaccompanied minor service, so I do not see why you are providing it anyway.”

“We are just ensuring that-”

“I don’t care,” Damian said, waving a hand at the woman as he turned to gaze out the window again.

Tim just shrugged at the slightly flustered woman and offered a simple, “Sorry. We’re tracking though, thanks.”

“Tt. I am never flying commercial again.”

“Bold declaration for 10,” Tim said, just before he sighed and sat up. It was nearing 6pm. They should probably go grab dinner while they had the time, on the off chance that the flight actually did happen.

“I am a Wayne, if I want to fly exclusively by private jet, there is literally nothing stopping me.”

“Except Bruce hogging it,” Tim said, shoving his iPad and headphones into his carry-on. For the first time, he was so glad Alfred had convinced them to pack into carry-ons instead of with checked luggage. He enjoyed the freedom and ease of traveling with just a simple messenger bag to carry around, but knowing that they had their clothes and toothbrushes with them was a relief. They wouldn’t be buying ridiculous Chicago themed clothing tonight in one of the overpriced gift shops.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked, eyeing Tim as he slipped his boots back on and tied them.

Instead of answering, Tim asked, “Chili’s or the Macaroni Grill?” as he stood to his feet, attaching his coat to the top of his luggage.

Damian straightened up a bit, to Tim’s amusement, at the prospect of food and shuffled to gather up his items as well. “The Macaroni Grill,” he finally said, making a face at the suggestion of Chili’s.

Dinner went a lot smoother than Tim was expecting. In fact, the entire day until that point had gone smoother than he expected. Even with leaving for the airport at 5am and spending nearly every moment since together, the two of them really hadn’t fought much. Every once in a while Damian would make a scathing remark, but would then be quiet for at least half an hour after he did so.

It was nice.

“Why’re you being so good,” Tim asked over their pasta. They still had a little over two hours until boarding. Perhaps he shouldn’t be looking this gift horse in the mouth, but he was genuinely curious.

“I know how to behave in public, Drake,” Damian drawled, pushing around the last bits of his dinner on his plate before taking a sip of his soda.

Aside from the fact that Damian did not know how to behave in public, that really didn’t answer anything.

“Besides,” Damian continued, “our every move is being watched here, and Father told me if we get arrested by security for any reason he’s holding me personally responsible.”

“He did not,” Tim said, grinning wide.

Damian scowled at Tim and snapped, “That was not a challenge, Drake. I will inform Father if you sabotage our travel for the express purpose of getting me grounded.”

Tim just laughed and said, “Unlike you, I’m not a demon, I wouldn’t do that,” just as his phone started buzzing in his pocket.

When he pulled it out, he saw Bruce’s face staring at him. “Speak of the devil,” Tim muttered as he slid to accept the call, “Hey Bruce.”

“I see your flight has been delayed again. How are you two holding up?”

“Let me talk to him,” Damian said, reaching out for the phone.

Tim swatted Damian’s hand away and said, “We’re fine. Annoyed, but we went ahead and got dinner. I know we were supposed to eat together there, but you know.”

“We had to land in Seattle and won’t attempt again until morning, anyway. Dick and Jason got in just before it started to snow, and Steph and Cass are still in the air, but I don’t think the flight will make it to Aspen. So most of us won’t get there until tomorrow, anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m expecting American Airlines to just cancel to try again tomorrow,” Tim said, taking one last bite of his food, “so I booked us a hotel tonight just in case.”

“Let me know if you have trouble checking in. The storm is moving across the country toward you, I would not be surprised if O’Hare cancels flights tomorrow as the storm passes over you there.”

“Great,” Tim said dramatically, leaning back in his chair. Damian was just glaring at him expectantly, “Damian wants to talk to you.”

“Okay. Stay safe and just be patient. Delays and cancellations are better than plane crashes.”

“Yeah, thanks for that thought,” Tim said just as he handed the phone off to Damian.

“Father, I refuse to fly commercial ever again, this method of travel is-” Damian started, then paused and listened with a pinched face, “Yes, but- No. No.”

Tim tried his best not to look too amused as Damian went from smug and entitled to adequately chagrined as he listened silently to Bruce for a full minute. Bruce must have lectured him pretty hard.

“Fine. But I will not fly commercial at Christmas. This holiday is ridiculous and the number of people in this airport is unacceptable. Yes, Father. I will. Goodbye.”

“Sounds like you will be flying commercial again,” Tim said in amusement as he took his phone back and pulled a $100 out of his wallet to give to the waitress to cover their meal and her tip.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian mumbled as he dragged his suitcase behind him in the most pout-filled way Tim had ever seen.

And that’s how the rest of the evening went. Silently as Damian pouted. As their departure time came and went without so much as a boarding call, Damian began getting antsy.

“This is the fourth time they’ve delayed us by 15 minutes,” he exclaimed after yet another announcement over the PA system, “this is unacceptable.”

“You know they’re going to cancel the flight, right?” Tim said, turning the page in a book he’d picked up in the airport bookstore, “We’ll probably sit here another 30 minutes while they continue deluding themselves about not cancelling a flight on Christmas Eve eve.”

Damian let out an angry growl, which just sounded like a child throwing a tantrum, and flung himself down on the chair next to Tim. “I hate this.”

“Take a nap,” Tim said as he pulled his coat out from the chair under him to let Damian use it as a pillow, “I’ll wake you when they decide what they’re doing.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian pouted, “I’m not tired, just frustrated.”

“You’ve been awake since 4am, you’re tired.”

“So have you.”

“Yeah,” Tim said patiently, “but I took a nap after lunch, so.”

“I will not take a nap,” Damian repeated, aggressively grabbing Tim’s coat to lay against.

“That’s fine,” Tim hummed, trying not to smile as he continued reading.

“And Christmas Eve eve is not a thing,” Damian mumbled, burrowing himself down into Tim’s coat with his own wrapped around him, “stop being ridiculous.”

“Of course it’s a thing,” Tim said, lifting his feet up onto his suitcase so he could get settled back a little more comfortably, “It’s what today is.”

“Hmph.”

It took another 45 minutes, but finally the flight was outright cancelled. By that point, everyone was too exhausted to put up too much of a fuss, and the groans heard around the gate were more out of obligation than actual anger. Tim had heard several people all around him make arrangements for the night already, so this was clearly no surprise to anyone.

Tim took his time using the hotel’s app to “check in” before he began gathering up his things. He put his boots on and shoved his book and tablet back in his bag before he finally nudged Damian.

“Okay, Demon, nap’s over.”

“I was not napping,” Damian mumbled, rubbing at his eyes as he sat up.

Tim grinned and liberated his coat out from under Damian. “No you’re right you were just resting your eyes.”

“Shut up, Drake.”

Checking in was remarkably easy. When Tim told the person at the desk that ‘his dad had checked in on the app,’ he was easily handed a couple keys to the room without a single question.

Tim took his time in the shower as Damian lay on one of the two beds in their room, watching the news report. When Tim finally emerged from the bathroom, Damian said, “Much of Colorado is without power right now, and the storm is expected to hit the midwest just as hard.”

“Well isn’t that just dandy,” Tim said as he dried off his hair, “you packed a toothbrush and stuff, right?”

“Yes, Drake, I am not incompetent.”

“Right, whatever. Take a shower if you’re going to, I’m going to sleep. The flight is scheduled for 8 so we need to get out of here absolutely no later than 7, preferably earlier. We’ll have to pass through security again.”

“I hate everything you just said.”

Sighing, Tim set his phone to wake him at 5:45 while he listened to Damian slam the bathroom door.

Being responsible for little children was just so fun.

Next thing Tim knew, his alarm was going off. He sat up to find Damian already awake and watching the Weather Channel on mute. It took blinking for a minute before he could make out the numerous notifications on his phone, but the one he had wanted to find the least was another delay notification.

Now the flight wasn’t going to attempt until 10.

“The storm hit early,” Damian said, glaring at the television as if it were responsible for everything going wrong in their travel.

“Well do you want to sleep in longer or get breakfast?” Tim asked, rubbing at his face. He’d enjoy sleeping more, but he had slept for a good 6 hours. It was certainly more than he was used to.

“Breakfast,” Damian said simply, “I was waiting for you to wake up so we could order room service.”

“We could go get something. There’s time now.”

“Look outside. I’d rather stay here where it’s warm and dry.”

“Right,” Tim said, picking up the room service menu. After he called in their order, he looked at the weather report for the day and went ahead and extended their stay one night. If this storm cancelled all flights leaving Chicago, it would be much more difficult to get a room. Bruce honestly wouldn’t care about spending the money unnecessarily if their flight really did take off at 10.

But of course, it didn’t. At just past 8, they received the notice that the flight was cancelled.

Bruce called again, within minutes of Tim getting the text, to check up on them and assure them that the family wouldn’t do Christmas until Tim and Damian made it to Aspen.

“I’ll come pick you up myself,” Bruce said over speaker, “The weather should be fine tomorrow, I’ll head to the airport and get you boys, okay?”

“Tt,” Damian pouted from where he lay on his bed, arms crossed and glaring at the ceiling, “If you ever suggest I travel alone with Drake again, I will return to Mother.”

“Ouch,” Tim said, “he’d rather live in a ninja death cult than travel with me.”

“Damian,” Bruce sighed, “I’m sorry, but we’ll extend our vacation out until after the New Year, okay? I’ll make it up to you.”

“He’s pretending to ignore you,” Tim said, grinning at the scathing look Damian shot his way for the comment, “he’ll get over it.”

“The pilot wants me to turn my phone off, so I’ll text you when we land. How about we all FaceTime tonight, okay?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be good. Dick wanted us to watch The Polar Express tonight, we can always just do it while facetiming. I’m sure I can find a copy somewhere around here.

“Okay, Merry Christmas, boys. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“I can’t believe it’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck in a snowstorm with you,” Damian said once Bruce had hung up, still glaring up at the ceiling.

Shrugging, Tim said, “There’s worse company.”

“Doubtful.”

“Don’t worry. Santa will still deliver your presents to the cabin tonight.”

That finally made Damian sit up, but only to throw a pillow at Tim. “Santa’s not real, Drake.”

“Now you’re ruining my Christmas,” Tim said, laughing, as he caught the pillow, “You’re probably on the naughty list, anyway.”

“Tt.”

“You’re not exactly good,” Tim continued, having fun now at Damian’s expense.

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, throwing another pillow at Tim.

“Or nice.”

“Shut up!”

“Actually, yeah,” Tim said, laying back on the bed, “there’s no way you’re not on the naughty list, now that I think about it.”

At that, Damian got up from his bed and stormed over to the bathroom, slamming the door as he went. Tim jumped at the loudness of it, then frowned.

He hadn’t meant to push the brat that far. He’d just been teasing. Having fun. Sometimes, Tim forgot for as much as Damian could dish it out, he couldn’t take teasing. At all.

It was easy to forget. Especially when they went a few days without fighting.

‘Help,’ Tim texted Dick, ‘made D mad. Probably crying in bathroom. What do?’

The response was almost instant. ‘You made Damian cry?! Tim, why??’

Tim sighed and responded with, ’I mean, maybe? I haven’t tried to listen in on him or anything. He might just be pouting.’

‘Did you try talking to him?’

‘Why would I do that?’ Tim asked, smiling at himself because he already knew what Dick’s response to that would be.

‘You want to fix it but you don’t want to talk to him.’ And Tim could just see the flat stare Dick would have while delivering that sentence. Hear the deadpan in his voice.

Tim snorted. ‘Precisely. Glad you understand.’

‘Tim.’

‘Yeah, fine. Good big brother, coming up.’

After another minute, Tim finally got up and trudged over to the bathroom door. When he knocked, he could tell something was pressed up against the door, and was willing to bet his entire salary that it was pint sized and 10-years-old.

“Hey D? I was just teasing, you know.”

“Go away, Drake,” Damian hissed from the other side of the door.

So he wasn’t crying, at least. That’s good.

“Uh yep, nope. Can’t,” Tim said, sitting down on the floor outside the door, “The room isn’t big enough.”

Tim could just barely hear Damian’s signature ’tt’ in response.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you,” Tim offered, unsure of where to start. Or how to even do this. He’d been the little brother being talked down, never the older brother doing the talking down.

“Weren’t you?” Damian drawled.

“No, I wasn’t,” Tim said, resting his head back against the door, “I was just teasing you, that’s what brothers do to each other. They tease. You should know, you tease me constantly.”

“I do not tease you.”

Tim rolled his eyes and said, “No, of course not. You just make fun of me in hopes of getting a rise out of me. That’s totally not the definition of tease.”

“Then you admit you were trying to upset me.”

“Fine. I’m sorry, Damian,” Tim said tiredly, and perhaps a little too flippantly in his tone, “I shouldn’t have said that stuff, okay? You’re probably on Santa’s nice list. He’ll bring you presents tonight.”

“Shut up, Drake,” Damian snapped, banging something against the door. His elbow, perhaps. “I do not care about that ridiculous tradition.”

“If you aren’t upset about me saying you’re on the naughty list, then why are you upset?”

“I have been very good the past couple days,” Damian nearly shouted, “and the past year. I have worked so hard to behave myself and be what you and everyone in Father’s family would consider good. But at every turn, everyone, especially you, completely ignores all my actions and efforts and writes me off as a ‘bad person.’ I am sick of it.”

Tim blinked and ran a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t… writing you off,” he said lamely, “I was just teasing you about Santa. I know you’ve been good.”

“Then why would you say I’m not?” Damian demanded.

“It was just a joke,” Tim said, a bit more forcefully this time, “it’s just what you do at Christmas with kids. You tease them about Santa and being on the naughty list. Did the league not do Santa?”

Damian huffed out an annoyed breath and said, “The league didn’t do Christmas. So no, we didn’t ‘do Santa.’”

“You… didn’t do Christmas?” Tim said, in almost a whisper. He really wasn’t sure if Damian could even hear him. “So wait,” he added, much louder, “is this your first Christmas then?”

“Yes,” Damian bit out before slamming his head back against the door. At least, Tim as pretty sure that’s what Damian hit the door with.

“Does Bruce know this?”

After a long moment, Damian sighed and said, in a much calmer tone, “Maybe. I do not know what Father knows.”

“You should have told him,” Tim said softly, like he was talking to a victim as Robin, “He would have cancelled his meetings in Japan, I bet.”

“I don’t see how it would have mattered. It was my first Christmas here, regardless of everything, and he still left me with you.”

“Well,” Tim said, “In his defense, we were supposed to see him yesterday, so this isn’t entirely his fault.”

“I guess,” Damian said, softer than Tim had ever heard the child’s voice be.

The two of them sat there for another few minutes while Tim just frowned at the closet door in front of him. The annoying closet door that was actually a full sized mirror. So basically, Tim was staring back at himself, looking right at the terrible person he was. That he’d been over the past couple days.

Thinking back over their travel time, Damian really had been good. He’d been trying really hard to keep it that way, even when Tim teased and poked at him, or just flat out ignored him. And all because he didn’t want Bruce angry with him over his behavior. Which, usually wasn’t an issue for Damian. He never seemed to care when Bruce threatened him with grounding.

And Tim had barely acknowledged the effort.

Was Damian just trying to stay on Bruce’s good side because it was Christmas? Because he wanted a happy Christmas, just like how the holiday was always depicted in media?

Damian was only 10, after all, and all he had to go on was television.

Tim felt the bathroom door open behind him and leaned forward a bit to prevent from falling back. Damian stood in the doorway and glared at Tim using the mirror before saying, half-heartedly, “Move, Drake.”

“So if you’ve never celebrated Christmas before,” Tim said slowly as he got to his feet, “that means you’ve never done a Christmas movie marathon.”

“Thankfully,” the little brat drawled as he pushed past Tim into the bedroom.

“What Christmas movies have you already seen?” Tim asked, completely ignoring Damian’s likely feigned disinterest.

Flopping down dramatically onto his bed, Damian said, “What part of ‘first Christmas’ don’t you understand?”

“So you’ve never seen any Christmas movies?” Tim asked in exaggerated horror.

Damian just shrugged.

“Frosty the Snowman?” Tim asked, and when Damian shook his head, he said, “Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer? How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”

“No, Tim,” Damian exasperated, “none of them.”

“Oh my god,” Tim said, “Okay. That’s what we’re doing today. Starting with The Year Without a Santa.”

“Whatever.”

After a quick trip to one of the shops in the airport to purchase candy canes and a ridiculous amount of candy and cookies, because no Christmas movie marathon would be complete without a coma-inducing amount of sugar, Tim started up a playlist of all his favorite Christmas movies on his laptop.

Four movies into the marathon, Damian said from where he lay beside Tim on the bed, “These are ridiculous, you know?”

“I know, isn’t it great?” Tim said, opening another bag of Oreos for them to devour. Alfred would have a heart-attack if he knew they skipped lunch and were going to skip dinner in favor of cookies. Store bought cookies.

“I suppose,” Damian said as he took a couple cookies from the bag between them, “there are worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.”

Tim didn’t even have to look to know Damian was smiling as the opening scene to Elf began to play.

Yes. There were much worse ways to spend Christmas Eve.

-

Cross posted from AO3. 

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #tim and damian being brothers #christmas fic #batman #robin #red robin #batfam #batbros #batfamily #dc comics #fanfiction #c writes #Merry Christmas y'all #its christmas eve eve #just like in this fic #cross posted from AO3 #(originally posted there last year) #I hope you all have better luck with air travel than tim and damian did #if you have to travel #i flew last week and only got delayed once #and it was the final flight so no missed connections :)

[ronoken]

The Case of the Shattered Window

My youngest daughter was reading some old Encyclopedia Brown books and liked them, but wanted some geared towards girls.

That’s fair. Nancy Drew didn’t hit with her, and also that’s, like, the only girl detective series we could find. I’m sure there’s more. I would hope there’s more.

So, I’ve been working on something in my spare time. I have several done, but here’s the first.

The Case of the Shattered Window

 Nothing much happened in the small town of Billsburg. At least, that’s what the adults would tell you. From the outside, the town seemed completely ordinary. From the hot summers filled with the sounds of children playing in the streets outside and splashing down at the public pool, to the chilly, snow-filled winters that blanketed the roads and cancelled school, Billsburg seemed like the most unimportant, mundane little burg that anyone could ask for.

The children of Billsburg knew otherwise. For you see, living on an unassuming cul-de-sac in a two-story brick home was a trio that had become legends to anyone under the age of eighteen. They were the Frye sisters, and if the town was normal, the Frye sisters were anything but.

Now, that’s not to say that they didn’t behave like ordinary girls. They bickered and fought with each other and went to school and played with their friends like most girls their age. However, when trouble reared its ugly head, you could count on the Frye sisters to take center stage. When a kid in the neighborhood had a problem, the Frye sisters were the ones everyone went to. Each sister had their own special talent, and when they worked together, there was practically nothing they couldn’t accomplish.

The oldest, Lilian, was your standard pretty blonde middle schooler. While at first glance she might have appeared like a wisp of a thing, she was the muscle of the group, and did not put up with her sisters (or anyone else for that matter) getting bullied. Everyone, even the rough and tumble teens of Billsburg knew that it wasn’t worth it to get into it with Lilian. Not unless you wanted a black eye, that is.

The middle Frye sister, Elanor, was known for her ability to persuade anyone to do practically anything. Under her long, messy brown hair was a set of wide eyes and a disarming smile, but those weren’t her biggest weapons. She was a talker, and she knew exactly what to say to get people to do what she wanted. While this concerned her parents to some degree, it had served to help Elanor and her sisters to get into and out of trouble more times than anyone could count.

The youngest, Gwendolyn, was where the trio went from impressive to legendary among the children of Billsburg. The tiny, usually messy redhead could be found digging for worms, playing in leaves, and doing everything she could to get herself dirty when playing, but when a mystery needed to be solved, there were few people out there who could match her sharp, deductive mind. She was the sleuth of the group, and even if it didn’t seem like she was paying attention, you’d better believe that there was nothing that got by her keen gaze.

So, when a child needed help, and when it was the kind of help that adults are unable or unwilling to provide, that child knew that they could turn to the Frye sisters. For a fee, of course. It was Elanor that handled the books, and while all three sisters were happy to lend their services where they could, they admitted it was nice to collect a dollar a job.

One such job arrived on a normal, June day in the form of a sweaty young man standing at the Frye family door. Lilian opened the front screen to reveal Tommy Lawson from one street over. He was covered in grass stains and looked like he was about to cry.

“I need to hire you,” he said as he wiped some sweat from his forehead. Whether it was because they were bored or they had heard him, the other two Frye sisters appeared behind Lilian and took in the sight of their messy neighbor.

“Well, we’re always up for a new job. So, what happened to you?” Elanor asked.

“I was mowing Mrs. Wilkinson’s yard down the street,” Tommy said as he pointed down the lane. “It’s part of my new business.”

“Business?” Elanor perked up. “What business?”

Tommy dug into his pocket and pulled out a business card. It read

TOMMY LAWSON: LANDSCAPE SERVICES

“You’ll get plenty of work in this neighborhood,” said Gwen. “Have you tried Mr. Linkletter down the street? He can’t mow with that bad back of his.”

“I won’t be getting much of any business now,” Tommy sighed. “Not after what happened with Mrs. Wilkinson.”

All three girls asked at once. “What happened?”

“Well,” Tommy started, “I had spoken with Mrs. Wilkinson about handling her yard, and she was fine with it. I charged her ten bucks for the front and back, and she threw in a bottle of pop since it’s so hot out.”

“That’s not too bad,” Lilian said.

“Anyway, I had just gotten done with the front and went around to the back shed to get her gas can to refill her mower when I heard Mrs. Wilkinson shout for me. When I came back around to the front, her bay window was shattered. Mrs. Wilkinson said I must have hit a rock and smashed it, but I didn’t! Her window was fine when I went around back.”

“That’s rough,” Lilian said.

Tommy nodded. “Mrs. Wilkinson told me to go home and that she was going to make my dad pay for the window, but I wasn’t the one who threw the rock.”

“You think someone smashed it on purpose?” Gwen asked.

“I sure do,” Tommy said. “I was back there for a good few minutes. Someone had time to throw a rock and book it out of there, easy.”

“So, who do you think threw the rock?”

“Well,” Tommy said, thinking about it for a moment. “Mrs. Wilkinson told me I could mow her yard because the other kid she hired was doing an awful job. I think she’s the one who smashed the window.”

“She?” Elanor asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “Sally Parker.”

“Parker,” Lilian growled. She cracked her knuckles as her face darkened with anger. “Well, that explains everything.”

Sally Parker was known by most parents in the neighborhood as the most perfect little angel this side of Heaven. The local children, however, knew her to be quite the devil in disguise. Anytime there was mischief, you could bet your last penny that Sally Parker had something to do with it.

Lilian started marching past Tommy to go give Sally a talking to, but Gwen grabbed her arm. “Wait. We can’t just go over there and beat her up, Lils.”

“Oh yeah? Watch me.” Lilian pulled her arm free and started walking again.

“We need proof that Sally broke the window,” Gwen said. “If we can get that, then Tommy’s dad won’t have to pay for the damage and Tommy won’t lose a customer.”

Lilian thought about this and then put her hands in her pockets. “Fine,” she grumbled.

“Speaking of clients,” Elanor said with a smile as she scooted in front of Tommy. “We would be happy to take your case, provided you can pay?”

Tommy nodded. “If we can prove Sally did it, then Mrs. Wilkinson will pay me, and then I can pay you. Does that work?”

Elanor sighed. “Yeah. Gotta admit, this feels a lot like a charity case…”

“Oh, stuff it, Lanes. Tommy’s a friend,” Gwen said. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s go talk to Sally and get to the bottom of this.”

Sally lived several streets over in a tidy house with light blue siding. Gwen knocked on the door while the others stood close behind.

After a few moments, the door opened and there stood Sally Parker. She was tall, as in a full head taller than even Lilian. She towered over the group and sneered at them with her hands on her hips. She also had curly black hair that she wore short. Gwen suspected it was because Sally thought it made her look mature. Sally claimed that she had gone through a growth spurt, but a lot of the neighborhood kids suspected she had just been held back a year.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Sally said in a voice that was both sweet and sarcastic all at once. “The three little pigs and the big bad doof. What do you losers want?”

“You know why we’re here!” Tommy said angrily. He started to advance, but Lilian put her hand on his shoulder. She was itching to give Sally a piece of her mind for a number of reasons, but at the moment, this was Gwen’s show.

“No, I really don’t,” Sally said with a bored expression. “I’m honestly surprised to see you here. I haven’t even been out today.”

“Really?” Gwen asked. “Tommy here thinks you smashed Mrs. Wilkinson’s window earlier while he was helping her out. Do you know anything about that?”

“Excuse me?” Sally asked in an irritated tone. “You wanna accuse me of something, jerk?” She balled her hand into a fist and made to move on Tommy, but one look from Lilian made her stop. Lilian was the only kid in the neighborhood who had ever stood up to Sally. It had been a disagreement the summer before about a bike; Lilian had bought it with her chore money and Sally decided it belonged to her, instead. One quick punch from Lilian put the matter, and Sally, down for good.

“Were you at Mrs. Wilkinson’s earlier today?” Gwen asked.

“I told you,” Sally huffed. “I was inside all day. I couldn’t have seen this loser mowing her lawn; I was busy watching TV. There’s a reality show marathon about tiny houses and I’ve been positively glued to it. Go bug someone else, jerks.”

Sally stood aside to prove her point. Behind her was the living room, and on the television was a show focusing on what appeared to be very small homes.

“Huh,” Tommy said. “I could have sworn that it was her.”

Elanor patted Tommy on the shoulder as Sally started to close her door, but before she could, Gwen put her foot out and blocked her. “Before you go back to your show,” Gwen said, “I was curious, is you mom home?”

“What do you wanna know that for?” Sally asked.

“Well,” Gwen said, “it’s like this. You’re either going to come with us and admit to Mrs. Wilkinson that you smashed her window to make Tommy look bad so she would hire you back, or we tell your mother you not only smashed the window, but tried to lie your way out of it. Now, which is it going to be?”

 HOW DID GWEN KNOW SALLY WAS LYING?

   Solution to the case of the Shattered Window

Sally claimed that she had been inside all day watching television and that she couldn’t have been anywhere near Tommy or Mrs. Wilkinson’s house, but if that was the case, how did she know Tommy was mowing her yard? All Gwen had ever said was that Tommy was helping Mrs. Wilkinson, she never said how he was doing it. Once Gwen pointed this out to Sally, Sally confessed that she had thrown the rock to make Tommy look incompetent as a mower. Sally then admitted everything to Mrs. Wilkinson and paid for a new window out of her savings.

#original work #frye sisters #encyclopedia brown #childrensbooks #mystery

[softestsaddestbitch]

December TC Challenge

stole this from @elder-edda (sorry for creeping! just, given the usual demographic of the tc community I was excited to find another 20-smthg)

1) what color is your tc’s hair?

He has just, simple brown hair but he’s starting to go grey which, no lie, is 100% doing it for me.

2) is your tc married?

Yes? He doesn’t wear a ring and I believe she kept her last name which makes me think it’s more of a civil partnership since they’ve been together since the early 2000s at least. But he also will refer to her as “my wife” and was telling me once that they waited until “after they got married” before moving in together.

3) if yes, do you care? would you do something with them regardless of their marriage?

I know these questions are general but I do take offense at the idea of being a homewrecker/other woman. I’ve met his wife, she’s really nice.

4) what’s your worst memory with your tc?

I put my foot in my mouth SO OFTEN. Good lord. Especially my last semester at that school? He was acting weird and I had just realized after fucking ... four years?? that I romantically liked him. So I kept bringing up my weird age fixation and other bs bc I have adhd and am possibly autistic?? and can’t read a room to save my life.

5) what’s your best memory with your tc?

One year we had a really bad snowstorm, so bad in fact that I had my first-ever snow day. The college that I used to go to has four campuses across as many cities, and C has to drive in twice a week to my (old) town from his. Now, morning classes had been canceled but afternoon classes had been given the go-ahead. C, who does not check his emails until he arrives at campus, evidently did not get this message until he was already in town and therefore didn’t have a morning class, but did have an afternoon class. On this day I had a late morning class that had been reinstated, but my prof didn’t get that memo so I also was on campus but didn’t have a class. So I went to visit his office, which I had been doing throughout the semester (I didn’t have a class with him at the time) and we just ... hung out for like 2 hours. It was so nice and one of the anecdotes he told me still haunts me lol.

sidenote: at the time, I hadn’t yet realized that I liked him, but I still went out of my way to visit him. Damn I was a dumbass.

6) does anyone in your school know how you feel?

ish? I told a classmate but in a “haha joking” kinda way. And a friend who went to that school knows. No one at my current school knows.

7) does your tc know how you feel?

I think he might? might have a lil inkling which would explain why he started acting so weird my last semester. Or at the very least was told/realized how bad it could look that he was getting so chummy w/ a student.

8) do you think there’s any chance your tc reciprocates your feelings?

He and his wife have been together for around 20 years now. No. No, I don’t think so. Maybe in an alternate universe.

9) are you getting your tc a christmas present? if so, what is it?

I have in the past! Specifically like, a tin of cookies lol. I’ve also given him an actual present when I left. I do intend to send him a Christmas card every year but not this year because ... you know ... the apocalypse.

10) have you ever flirted with your tc?

Flirtation inherently has intent. So, no. How he interpreted our interactions I don’t know.

11) how long have you had a crush on them? what began it all?

SO! TIMELINE!

I was at my old school from September 2014-April 2019, I had C for the first time in September 2015. Like I mentioned above, I did not realize I had a crush on him until literally the middle of my final exam of my class with him December 2018, so I’ve only consciously had a crush for about two years now. However, as I also mentioned, I went out of my way to stop by his office, even when I didn’t have a class with him. And my relationship with/feelings towards him are complicated so I’m not going to say I did so solely because I like him, but I would put it maybe closer to somewhere in 2017. You don’t plan your schedule around someone you don’t feel strong feelings for.

12) do you believe you’ll get over them shortly after you stop taking their class/have the chance to spend time with them?

As of today, it has been been exactly a year and a half since I last him in person. In the time since, I have cried over missing him, routinely gone back to keep up with his current research projects, and made his picture a part of my home screen. I almost exclusively listen to the playlist I made for him -  so much so my Spotify Wrapped is pretty much that playlist with a few extras.

13) what kind of grades do you get in their class?

Haaaaaa pre-supension I was failing his classes. My first semester back I got .... a mid/high 70? and I finished my last class with him with an A+ and the essay I had written for his class had the highest grade between the two classes so..

14) does your tc ever do any tiny, little things that you adore?

When he puts a hand in his pocket and leans against the wall. When he tucks his hair behind his ear because he keeps falling in his face (he has long hair, a little past his shoulders). When he can’t stop himself from googling something even if its in the middle of class. How you can ask him anything at any time. The way he would chuckle at my jokes. How his handwriting hasn’t improved in decades. How easily he brushes off toxic masculinity. His candidness and willingness to share little anecdotes. The way he used to always smile whenever he saw me. That he goes home everyday to have lunch with his wife.

15) are you their favorite student?

I was! And it was obvious to other students that we had a friendly, casual relationship too. For a time, if his other students had questions about him they would ask me, and I usually had the answer. I didn’t matter in the long run, but I was. 

16) do you two share any tastes? movies, books, music, etc.

He’s a legal historian, I’m a baby legal/political historian. We also like the same historical cooking youtube channel.

17) is your teacher religious?

I doubt he would say he’s religious, but I feel like we have a similar relationship to religion which is to say no formal association, but had profound effects on our childhoods and subsequently, presumably, how we view things as adults.

18) do you masturbate to them?

Yes.

19) do you communicate with them outside of school?

I sent him a meme once. And asked about the socialist uprising scandal he was apart of. I also almost emailed him while at a museum exhibition with my history friend. These are all through email.

20) do you have any tc songs or songs you relate to your tc? what are they?

SO my number one song this year was “You are the Reason” by Calum Scott because, you guessed it, of him. But also:

I Lost a Friend - Finneas When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes You Are in Love - Taylor Swift Break My Heart Right - James

& given the season, especially w/ what transpired last year, Last Christmas by Wham!

21) what’s your favorite thing your tc has said/memory you have with them?

One time he kinda trailed off in the middle of lecture after stating that he thought of xyz a particular way which contrasted one of the popular schools of thought, and the way he plainly said, “well, yeah, which I guess ... is I’m arguing it” almost like he was semi-surprised with himself has always stuck with me. 

But also, in addition the memory I shared earlier, we spent an hour and a half talking about grad school and what to expect and how to get there. 

22) do you plan to continue a relationship with them after you leave school?

I trid, I really did. But he doesn’t “socialize with students part or present” so I can’t exactly see him. But I did get some academic-related from him at the beginning of the year.

23) how will you deal during the summer? will you see him/her?

He’s a hermit who used my last vacation before I moved to go on all the vacations he had to postpone because he was working on his last book. And this past summer ... Covid. This question is obviously directed at high school students, but in general, he lives in the back of head always, and when I’m in my hometown for the summer my heart aches because theres a none-zero chance I’ll see him, but I know I won’t.

24) does your tc support gay rights?

Yes. He’s never been put in a position that I know of where he had to outright condemn homophobia, but in one of his classes, he actively made the choice to make the very first reading of the semester about how women in ancient times had more agency than assumed, and also how the woman in the case study was a lesbian.

25) what class do you have with them? And what period? Do you have them every day?

History classes. I won’t get into specifics because it’s kind of an eclectic mix and I’m paranoid someone from the area could come across this. But I had him twice a week every semester that I had him. Again this kind of question is more so applicable to high school students, not so much university students.

26) have you ever drifted out during a lecture thinking about them and missed information?

No. In his classes he is too enthralling, and I’m a good student otherwise.

27) have you stalked them online? what did you find out?

In theory. He’s a fifty-year-old history professor whose reaction to a description of the big lipped/tiny face filter on snapchat was “that sounds disgusting.” The man doesn’t have social media, and if he does those privacy settings are on so students can’t find him he thinks he’s very professional. I do visit his mini-bio section on the college website fairly often tho.

28) have you ever run into them outside of schools? what happened?

I did once. He introduced me to his wife, who said “oh you’re E! C has talked about you” and it apparently he had done so positively, and blew my mind because this was back when I was failing classes and also, as a person, I don’t believe that people think about me when I’m not there. They gave me a restaurant recommendation and afterwards his wife surprised me a they were leaving the restaurant because ... we had listened to them, and they also went there for lunch that day.

29) has your tc ever spoken of teacher-student relationships? what did they say?

It had recently come out that it had been found out that another professor had been in a relationship with a student and he’s the one that brought it up before class one day (with all of us not just me). He didn’t say anything for or against it, just that it was generally discouraged, but that most schools did have policies in place to handle the situation.

30) do you regret telling anyone about your tc? if you’ve kept it a secret, why have you done so?

Absolutely not. I can’t tell my best friends because they’d do nothing but give me shit for it and it would call every time I mention him into question. But the friends that I have told ... its been so freeing, and like a weight has been lifted from my heart. One friend in particular I unloaded on her all my emotional shit pertaining to him this past summer and she was so understanding it legit since then I’ve been less distraught when thinking about him. It still hurts, but it feels less like I’m suffocating now.

#personal #professor crush #professor crush community #teacher crush #monthly challenge #december

[krisdreaming]

❄ 11th Day of Fluffmas ❄

⟵ Day 10 | Masterlist | Day 12 ⟶

Winter Wonderland || Tendou Satori x reader

Word Count: 1,418 | Gender Neutral reader

(prompt: It’s a snow day and we can’t go anywhere? What a shame.)

a/n: This was heavily influenced by this request that I received, though I did change up the scenario a bit (also Tendou 1000% deserves love, I haven’t even written an actual request for him yet which is a crime):

-

“Why won’t you answer?” You mutter after hearing Satori’s voicemail message for the third time. You’ve been watching the weather all day, and there’s no way that his flight tomorrow won’t be cancelled. You pout. If he would answer his damn phone, maybe you could figure out an alternative solution so that you don’t miss out on all of your time together. 

Being long distance isn’t easy. In high school, you were so used to sneaking into Satori’s dorm room whenever you needed to see him, and even with your busy class schedules and his volleyball practices, you still managed to see each other every day. Now that you’re both at opposite ends of the country attending college, you’re lucky if you see each other every month. This was your second Christmas apart, and he was finally going to be able to fly in after New Year’s to spend the last few days of your winter break with you. That is, until this massive winter storm appeared on the radar.

You look out the window and up to the slate gray sky. There are no flakes falling yet, but it’s supposed to start this evening and continue snowing for the entirety of tomorrow. The temperature is hovering just below freezing, and you pull your sweater a little closer around yourself when you feel the icy air that seeps through the poorly insulated windowpanes. 

With a sigh, you shove your phone in your pocket and settle on the couch with a blanket. You’ll try calling again in an hour if he doesn’t get back to you by then. You’ve just decided on something to watch on Netflix when there’s a knock at the door. You frown. You aren’t expecting anyone. Slowly, you go to the front door and peer out the peephole. All you catch is a glimpse of unruly red hair before you scramble for the door knob, pulling it open and revealing your boyfriend.

“Satori!” You shriek, leaping into his arms as he hugs you tight against his chest. You press your face into his neck. 

“Surprised to see me?” He asks, and though you can’t see his face, you can hear the cheeky grin in his voice. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask in disbelief, pulling away to look up at him. Instead of answering, he threads his fingers through your hair and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“I saw the weather, so I called and got an earlier flight.” He explains against your lips before kissing you again.

“Come in!” You finally giggle, pulling on his hands until he follows you inside. Your roommate went back home for the holidays, so you have the entire apartment to yourselves. “I missed you.” You murmur, standing in the kitchen, as he settles his hand on top of your head, gently scratching at your scalp with his fingertips. It’s a familiar gesture, and you want to melt into it. His expression is soft. “I love you.” You murmur, throat thick with emotion. His hand slides down to the back of you neck and he pulls you close again. 

“I love you, too.” He says into your hair, pressing a few kisses to your temple. “And I’m starving. That little bag of crackers on the plane was not enough.” He huffs.

“Well, then.” You frame his face with your hands, leaning up to press one last kiss to the tip of his nose. “Let’s make dinner.” And so, you do. 

As the snowflakes finally begin to fall outside, you and Satori work together in your tiny, bright, warm kitchen to prepare a simple dinner. You bump into each other, unused to working together in this space, and the pasta boils over while you’re arguing over how to season the beef, but you are perfectly content. Someday, you promise yourself, someday every day will be like this. 

By the time the dishes are washed and put away, the snow has begun to coat the world outside. Even your loud, bustling city is muffled and almost pretty beneath the white blanket. 

“You wanna cuddle?” He asks, stepping behind you at the window and wrapping his arms around your middle, resting his chin on top of your head. You grin.

“I thought you’d never ask.” For the rest of the evening, you do just that, soaking each other in after so much time without. 

The next morning, for a few moments, you forget the events of the day before, until you realize why there is a pair of arms holding you impossibly close, his nose buried in the nape of your neck.

“You’re awake.” His voice is muffled against your skin. He must have felt you stir.

“Yeah.” You whisper, twisting around until you are nose to nose. Your heart swells at the sight of his sleepy smile. “What do you want to do today?”

In answer, he pulls you a little closer, pressing a lazy kiss first to your forehead, then your lips. 

“Besides that.” You release a breathy laugh.

“Oh.” He nudges his nose against your cheek. “Well, breakfast.”

“Of course.” You nod sagely.

“And then...” He hums in thought, reveling in the feel of you in his arms. He chuckles. “You remember that day in third year, when it snowed a few inches? That huge snowball fight?”

“I remember Wakatoshi’s face when you smashed that giant snowball into it.” You giggle. Of course you remember that day. Thinking about it still makes you warm inside.

“Let’s do that. Let’s play in the snow.” He props himself up on his elbow, grinning down at you expectantly.

“Okay.” You agree. “Let’s play in the snow.”

After breakfast and coffee, you bundle up to prepare for the outdoors. After hats, gloves, and scarves, your faces are barely visible. Looking at him, you feel giddy, almost like a kid again. Happy in a way only Satori can make you feel.

“Come on!” He grabs your hand, and you’re being tugged down the hall and out of your apartment complex. There’s a small courtyard with a few trees and grass, and that’s where you end up. As soon as Satori releases your hand, he’s scooping up handfuls of snow and packing them into snowballs, lobbing them at you as fast as he can. You find yourself laughing and shrieking as you attempt to retaliate, the sound echoing through the otherwise calm, silent courtyard.

“Stop, no!” You yell when he gets tired of throwing snowballs, lifting you off the ground and you both tumble into a snow drift. You’re laughing so hard there are tears streaming down your cheeks. He has snow in his hair, and you reach out to brush it away, only for him to shake it off and into your face before you can. You gasp as a few flakes fall past your scarf and against your warm neck.

His lips are cold when he kisses you, but they soon warm up as the kiss intensifies. You almost forget that you’re laying in a snow bank until you hear the distant sound of children laughing. Pushing him away, you sit up enough to see that one of your neighbors and their two boys have arrived in the courtyard. She waves amicably, but it isn’t difficult to see that she’s wondering what two adults are doing tumbling around in the snow. You sheepishly wave back.

“Come on, Satori.” You both push yourselves up, brushing as much snow off of your coats and pants as you can. “Let’s go for a walk.” You leave the laughing children to play in the snow.

When you get to the sidewalk, you loop your arm through his, leaning against him as you make your way through the quiet streets. Not many others are out braving the elements, but the softly falling flakes and the crunching of your footfalls make for a perfect atmosphere. Especially here, it isn’t easy to feel like you’re alone in the world, but you’ve achieved it today.

You stop walking to look up into his face. You scrunch your nose at him as you take in his red cheeks and the few melting flakes clinging to his eyelashes and in his hair. His eyes seem to be taking in every inch of your face.

“What?” You ask softly, leaning up to press a playful kiss to his chilled nose.

“You’re my favorite.” He says, with a kiss on your lips. You find yourself hoping that this moment can somehow last forever.

#Haikyuu #Haikyuu imagines #Tendou Satori #Tendou Satori x reader #Tendou x reader #Haikyuu x reader #Fluffmas #i'm actually so happy with this #i hope he isn't too ooc ><

[theliterateape]

Why Can't We Just Share the Last Slice of Pizza?

by Don Hall

I had the first TV dinner in possibly forty-years a few weeks ago and it was kind of incredible.

Sure, it was a Hungry Man�� chicken and mashed potatoes concoction and had more sodium than a bucket of sea water but it was still oddly delicious and covered in a gravy comprised of nostalgia and gluten. I didn't buy the frozen tray in a cardboard box. No, my wife has, in the pandemic, taken to rebranding her self as a 'resource locator' otherwise known as a 'dumpster diver.'

It sounds odd but I'm convinced that when the Second Great Depression takes hold, I'm married to the most resourceful and extraordinary partner on the planet. She finds brand new shoes, genuine Shriner fez's, and food. Cans of food thrown away. Expired bags of pretzels. And still-frozen TV dinners.

The nostalgia of consuming this marvel of the fifties, the fully-prepared dinner, ready to heat and eat in front of the television comes from my youth. In terms of economic status there were times in my earliest days when we were 'poor'. Now, mom wouldn't let us use that word to describe our situation. She preferred to say we were 'broke'. That distinction was my first lesson in reframing your perspective to fuel optimism.

Whichever it was called it was common practice growing up to eat TV dinners and mom would cut each portion in half (even the weird lava-like brownie or apple-crunch) so we had a meal the next day as well.

When we couldn't afford a Swanson-manufactured meal, she'd make what she called 'Spanish Rice'—Minute rice, a green pepper, tomato sauce, and Tabasco—another rebranding that certainly made this odd and rough cultural appropriation seem both unsavory and about as white as it could be.

Mom worked hard. My recollection was that she was often working several jobs and doing the best she could to keep us in clothing and food with a roof over our heads despite the fact that the minimum wage at the time was $1.60. She also had a way of reframing things so that, at no point, did we feel like we were missing out on much.

On top of that raising me could not have been easy.

We moved around a lot so I was always the new kid in school. Even with teachers and administrators, there is a tribal imperative to put the new members in their place, establishing the rules of behavior and assigning the slot for the newest members. I was never much of a conformist so this dance of going along to get along didn't take. All of which made my struggling mother's life one of battling the powers that be to protect her less than socialized monkey-son.

There are stories. The time I was forbidden to speak in class so I drew pictures of a butt and a butt pooping to silently curse some kids out. The incident of my failing to stay put during classes and finding escape routes during lunch that caused an epic battle as the Vice Principal decided to ban me from the Free Lunch program out of pique and spite. The summer when I was caught beating up Cub Scouts because they wouldn't let me join due to my mother's financial inability to buy me the requisite uniform.

There's an image I have in my head of my tiny mother almost coming to blows with a much larger woman because the woman called us "poor white trash." We were white but my mother wouldn't abide her children embracing the twin ideas of us being poor or being trash.

“No, Donald. You cannot just eat the last piece of pizza. You need to learn to share.”

In Chicago there's a thing called 'dibs.' 

Sometimes it snows big and the streets are plowed but the parking spots are all but obliterated by small mountains of snow. The diligent among residents get their shovels out of the garage and clear out the snow from in front of their homes so that they will then have a place to park. They have done the work, so they feel entitled to the benefits of that labor.

The problem lies with those who do not shoulder in and remove the snow yet still feel entitled to park on public streets that they, after all is said and done, have paid for with their tax dollars.

Thus 'dibs.' The shoveler decides to put a lawn chair or card table or statue of the Virgin Mary in the spot they have labored over so when they come home from work, the spot has been saved for them and them alone.

It all sounds silly until you look at from an economic perspective. There are more cars in Chicago than there are legal places to park. It's a fact. The demand for spaces is greater than the supply. Parking tickets cost drivers thousands of dollars a year and the 'ticket dicks' are as numerous as the homeless. When it snows and the plows come through there are suddenly even less spaces than there were the night before.

Given the city will clear the roads but not the curbs the solution for half the population is to carve out their own space and the other half parks wherever they can. Those who take the spots but do not shovel are capitalizing on the labor of those who do and it pisses them off.

“No, Donald. You cannot just eat the last piece of pizza. You need to learn to share.”

I was thirteen. I was growing. I ate like a fucking locust with the table manners of the Cookie Monster. There it was—the last piece. I wanted it. My sister was small and weak. What was she gonna do?

“Offer your sister the last piece.”

“…do you want the last…”

“YES!” she barked and shoved the whole piece in her mouth.

“That’s NOT FAIR! We coulda split it! That’s not sharing, that’s theft!”

That’s Capitalism. Cut throat. Haves and Have Nots. It is simply not in human nature to share. In all of recorded history there has always been, in every society and civilization, when approached with abundance, a small percentage of those at the top and a much larger percentage at the bottom. Call it what you want—winners and losers, the One Percent and the Ninety-Nine (great name for a prog rock band), Bourgeoisie and Proletariat—it all amounts to the same dynamic.

It occurs to me that in the fight to get people fired from their jobs for tweeting arguably terrible things the double standard in place is exceptionally capitalist. On the ‘cancel culture’ side is the idea that people should be held accountable for their words in the world and, if they cross the line, then employers should fire them. On the other side, these same people will scream that an employer who decides that a kid wearing the costume of his culture or using grammatically incorrect language cannot be fired.

Both are individuals putting themselves and their ability to express themselves at the center of a business that has little to do with the individual. Everyone should have the right to their own specific identity as they see fit but no one should have the right to exert themselves above a business that pays them a salary in order to center things on them.

It’s frustrating. Economic class is the true great divider in the world. Because it is so ingrained in the human experience to live with those who have the cash and many who do not, economic class seems an unassailable unfairness. It’s an immovable and undeniable trait in societies of every stripe. 

The landlord who leverages herself to get loans to buy an apartment building, fix it up to be livable, and rents it out to people has shoveled the snow. The tenant who claims it is unfair to be evicted from that apartment building because they cannot pay the rent is parking wherever there is a spot.

And it pisses everybody off.

No, it is neither race nor gender that is the engine of inequity. It’s almost entirely economic class.

Since the existence of class is so ever-present and unmoving, we focus on other things to change society. The battle to curb billionaires has never really taken hold despite the obvious problems they present. So we focus on race, we focus on gender. We spend our energy ignoring that most of inequity that exists between humans is about economics and find as many differences between those of us on the Have Not side as we can.

Why is it so hard to get rid of billionaires and that pernicious One Percent? Because we all want what they have. We all want the last piece of pizza and the parking space. We all want the luxury of luxurious things. We resent the things we'd have to do to get that luxury so instead we tear at anyone and everyone to gain whatever slice we can.

No one wants to shovel out that goddamned parking space. Trust me. In thirty years of living in Chicago, I shoveled tons and tons of snow to get that coveted spot. I never did the 'dibs' thing but I empathize with the fury at someone taking that spot I've labored over. 

Study after study indicates that it is economic class that holds us back far more than race or gender but the road to power is through a perception of grievance these days and the only evil when presenting poverty as the problem is human nature. Men and women can be demonized. That game has been around for-freaking-ever. African Americans can demonize whites (but not black Americans because African immigrants in America do, on average, far better economically than whites). We can go the People of Color vs White People but, in order to make that case, Asians have to be ignored or made white-adjacent. 

No, it is neither race nor gender that is the engine of inequity. It’s almost entirely economic class. Not that acknowledging that will change anything.

The utopian ideals of Socialism and even Communism sound better than Capitalism. The problem is the humans are built from the DNA to compete. Compete for resources, for sexual partners, for jobs, for shelter. Competition is as instinctual as our desire to procreate and Capitalism is a competitive sport. Throughout history, progress toward learning to truly share that slice of pizza is slow because it goes against our very nature. Not impossible and thus worth the effort but fucking S-L-O-W.

A friend recently posited that maybe I have gained some wisdom in my aging. He then switched and decided that maybe what we think is wisdom is just age plus exhaustion. Whichever it is, I have learned to share. I've also learned that in order to share, I have to assume my offer of the last piece of pie is going to be taken and stuffed into my sister's mouth. I can be wounded by the gesture, I can even be annoyed by it. I have to let it go.

I'm comfortable with the concept of enough. Meaning, if I have enough to share, I have enough to survive. Even if it's only enough of my mom's Spanish Rice.

There will be those, always those, who are so imbued with the need to compete that there is never enough. There will be those, perpetually those, who have not had enough and are willing to tear it out of the mouths of those who have.

And there will always be those, unendingly those, who are fine parking in the open spot knowing that someone else put in the work and not caring enough about anyone else that they take up the space and benefit from the labor without contributing.

On the best days, I don't run into them.

#Class

[kenrik]

Taek’s Heartbreaks (!spoilers!)

I just watched Reply 1988. And to say it’s my favorite kdrama is an understatement. I honestly don’t regret watching it this late. I’m just glad I finally did. 

I’m making this post, in fresh heartbreak, because while I love every character on the show, I’ve always shipped Duk Seon with Taek. And it pains me that everyone I know rooted for Jung Hwan, quotes his pain more, as if Taek never went through the same heartbreaks. They both did. And that’s why by Episode 18, you both see them looking longingly where Duk Seon left them. 

(Ep. 18)

They loved each other so much that they couldn’t bare the thought of hurting each other over this. They didn’t have to speak to each other. With a look, they knew just how deeply the other fell for the same person. They were in the same situation - smitten, in love with a girl just a little too much. 

Deciding to give up pursuing Duk Seon meant someone else would have her. And they would be able to do nothing but watch. 

Throughout the show, we’ve followed every step of Jung Hwan’s first love. We saw him fall for her. We saw him care for her. We saw him chase after her. And we saw him lose her. But, with Taek, we didn’t share the same journey. We didn’t watch him fall, care for her, nor chase after her. The narrative of the show is skewed to JH’s perspective. And, while this showed us how kind and generous JH is, even though he has a stoic, sometimes mean, demeanor, the audience failed to see how much Taek stumbled and fell over his first love. 

Getting the girl doesn't mean you never went through the same shitty experience; getting the girl doesn’t take away from the fact that you had your heart broken.

Taek was never meant to end up with Duk Seon. He was an active subject. He wasn’t waiting around for that time the girl decides to be with him. He laid himself bare more ways than one. And he got hurt on multiple occasions. 

In Episode 18, Taek withdrew from a match. He drove to Duk Seon. And he ran as fast as he could to get to her. Although this is just once instance, I can definitely picture him stumble back and forth - just for a chance to be with her; especially as busy adults whose schedules coincide less than before.  

Taek ending up with Duk Seon means so much more than meets the eye; so, I’ve made a list of every scene/time we’ve overlooked Taek and Duk Seon’s relationship, in an attempt to show their heartbreak and struggles. 

The main points I want to make are:  1. Taek has always been in love with Duk Seon, ever since he can remember. 2. Duk Seon falls in love with Taek in her last year in high school. And yet, she rejects him.

1. As early as Episode 6, Taek already planned on confessing to Duk Seon. 

(Ep. 6)

In this scene, while the camera focuses on Duk Seon, Sun Woo, Jung Hwan, and you hear Dong Ryong in the background, Taek’s presence isn’t felt. You totally forget about him in this scene, as I did when I watched it. It basically represents how oblivious Duk Seon is of Taek. 

When Taek leaves the baduk academy later in the episode, the first thing he notices is the falling snow. And he calls Duk Seon before anything else - to invite her to a movie - because she said, “Confess, on the day of the first snowfall.”

(Ep. 6)

While DS was consumed with Sun Woo (and the audience, with JH), Taek was sitting beside her, thinking the notion of confessing attractive. Even as early as this episode, we see how often he’s thought of Duk Seon.  

And it was heartbreaking re-watching this scene, now knowing how much Taek was in love with Duk Seon when she never knew. Even in the present day scenes as a married couple, he still tells her that she still doesn’t know the extent of just how much he’s always loved her. 

2. Every time Duk Seon treats him like a little brother, a woman, a pushover, basically, everything other than a romantic prospect. 

When I started watching Reply 1988, I was very confused. Because once Sun Woo stopped being a romantic prospect for Duk Seon, it seemed very clear to me that she’d end up with Jung Hwan. 

In the earlier episodes, it was hard for me to believe Taek even liked DS. He seemed like a “I’m happy being with my friends” type of guy; and DS was just that to him - a friend. 

Throughout the show, DS has always treated Taek the same, even to the point when they met at the Lee Seung Hwan concert - like an overprotective older sister, like an overly protective friend. 

In several scenes, Duk Seon has thought of him back and forth as a:

- little brother: 

(Ep. 14 - Here, Taek sees Duk Seon treat her little brother like how she treats him - like a little brother.)

- an innocent kid:

(Ep. 14)

- (implied) a woman:

(Ep. 10)

- and a pushover: 

(Ep. 10)

- a pushover (who’s done for lmao): 

(Ep. 12)

This personality the young Duk Seon projects of Taek is a defense mechanism of an immature girl who isn’t aware of her own feelings; who doesn’t know any better. It is undeniable that she cares for Taek deeply and that - compared to everyone in their group, she enjoys spending time with him the most. 

Multiple times, she’s claimed to know everything about Taek; amid many contradictions proving otherwise. She says this, not solely because she believes it. But also because this is what she wants to believe. There’s a line she keeps herself from crossing, a truth she refuses to acknowledge. To Duk Seon, Taek has never acted differently around her, in a way that would make her see he was in love with her. And to set her expectations of him, she treats him as a little brother, as a pushover, as an annoying neighbor - so that, whatever and every attachment DS felt for Taek could be chalked up to something more familiar - to mere friendship and what’s filial. 

3. Tying this in with #2, I’m certain, absolutely certain that had Taek confessed in their senior year, Duk Seon would have rejected him; as she indirectly did.

He was nothing more to her than a friend, than a little brother; that’s what she forced herself to believe. 

SW and JH, somehow, made sense to the young Duk Seon. If JH had confessed, she would have accepted 100%. I watched how cute they were in their high school days. All DS was waiting for was JH’s confession. She was nothing less than ready to enter a romantic relationship with him. 

But, if Taek confessed, he would have been devastated. I am certain she would reject him. In Duk Seon’s words, she said, “They’re friends.” and “It would be awkward.” We actually see this rejection when Duk Seon denies the kiss they shared in Taek’s room. 

(Ep. 19)

Even back in 1989, although Taek was certain he was finally going to confess, he, rightfully so, had doubts about how Duk Seon would receive his confession.

(Ep. 15)

Additionally, we have DS’s bffs to look at; as their assessments of DS’s guy friends greatly dictate DS’s perception of her own relationships. 

For Sun Woo (Ep. 3), they said: 

For Jung Hwan (Ep. 7), they said: 

And for Taek (Ep. 17), they said: 

*And on Netflix, the translation says “soft touch,” a person easily influenced, duped, or imposed upon. 

Taek was just a friend, just a neighbor. 

Duk Seon had only fallen in love with those who she’s certain likes her back. To her, nothing pointed out to the initially dense (then insecure) Duk Seon that Taek likes her any bit, thus ensuring his rejection - in fear of getting herself hurt later on. 

4. Duk Seon was falling in love with Taek, but she still rejected him for about four years, without him even knowing. 

Think about this for a while. 

Why is it that, among all of the boys she had a thing for - it was only a relationship with Taek she didn’t jump into. 

She hears from her friends that SW and JH liked her. Both times, she jumped in with both feet. But, when she starts to really like someone, she runs away. Without an inkling as to how Taek felt, she starts developing a one-sided interest and it scared her - how vulnerable falling in love made her feel. 

During the episodes she was chasing after JH (until Episode 15), she had become more conscious around Taek. In Episode 12 (around the 1 hour mark), she couldn’t even form a coherent sentence when Taek leans on her; because she was taken off guard; she was defenseless. She had no excuses to use to sweep whatever their relationship really was under a rug. So, she’s left there, stumbling on her words; admittedly, a first for her. 

She’s chased SW and JH, aggressively at times even. But, with Taek, it’s different. 

She’s wanted a romance. But when Taek opens up to her, suddenly, it’s awkward. On the contrary, the awkwardness Duk Seon feels is the sudden realness of it all - that maybe, just maybe, she was falling in love with him. 

(Ep. 12)

We also see her questioning why Taek suddenly cancelled their movie date. (Not that she thought it was a date). But she had expectations. 

(Ep. 17)

And her restlessness after being carried away by Taek. 

(Ep. 17)

Finally, we have this: 

(Ep. 17)

To say DS became more conscious of Taek is an understatement. Suddenly, it comes crashing down - she liked him; she was falling for him. 

(Ep. 14)

In those four years, we have a lot of scenes where DS looks pensive, in deep thought. While we don’t know what she’s thinking, there is a chance she’s thinking of Taek and what she’s hidden from him. There is a chance that in those four years, she’s realized she’s fallen in love with him. But, her insecurities keep her from acting any differently from how she’s been around Taek ever since; insecurities that stem from - Taek never definitively showing her how he feels, Taek’s many admirers, and the vulnerability falling for him left her with. 

For four years, Duk Seon refused to acknowledge what happened between them; refused to acknowledge how they felt about each other. Their circumstances are just so true to life, it’s tragic. 

On Episode 18, it wasn’t just JH and Taek dealing with heartbreak. So too was Duk Seon, and by her own choosing. 

5. Their proximity during the four year gap. 

From 1990 to 1994, the show skips. Up until 1994, on Taek’s birthday celebration, we see that both JH and Taek are still hungover DS. However, Taek was in a worse off position, given his proximity to DS. While both DS and Taek are busy in their careers, I’m certain they’ve had a number of instances like these: 

Times when Dong Ryong, Duk Seon, and Taek hung out together. 

In addition, I’m certain Taek has been a constant witness to DS’s relationships. And she to his’.

The both them probably thought it was easier, that they were dating other people. It made it easier for Duk Seon to tell herself that she was right, Taek never really liked her. And for Taek, his meetings for arranged marriages, his dates, helped substantiate the lie he told himself - that he was moving on from his childhood crush. 

Furthermore, we know that DS has kept in touch with Taek’s colleagues (and therefore, Taek as well), since she’s responsible for introducing these two. 

I’m pretty sure the four years included a lot of these: 

And on Duk Seon’s end, these: 

In those four years, they would run into each other and act like the friends they always were and always would be.

For a time, they settled with the image that that a relationship like theirs isn’t one that would change. 

Duk Seon and Taek’s relationship is one for the books. I’ve seldom seen this relationship portrayed in TV. I know it’s not popular. I know it may be vanilla and boring. But, it’s unraveling was just so beautiful and heartwarming. 

Throughout the show, I couldn’t picture it - how DS would end up with someone who’s barely around, who everyone treats like a little brother, and who only seems to think of baduk. But, that’s where the appeal to me lies - amid everything going on with Taek’s life - loving Duk Seon had always been a constant. He always loved her, even when the audience didn’t know.

Their relationship showed me that loving someone isn’t enough. Loving someone is separate from wanting to be with them. While both boys were in love with Duk Seon, Taek wanted nothing less than to be with her.

It was not timing. 

The only factor Taek was lucky in - is that Duk Seon was in love with him. However, it was Taek’s unwavering desire to be with Duk Seon that got him the girl. He loved her. And he was never afraid to show it. Other than his love for JH, nothing else stopped him from loving DS, from showing her. 

For me, the greater heartbreak is baring your heart out, is giving it your all, and getting rejected in the end. Everything JH went through, while so utterly painful, is nothing compared to the pain of being denied your feelings. As early as Episode 12, we see Duk Seon grow awkward around Taek in those times they were alone - because, in a closed room, far from watching eyes, it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself. It’s easier, far easier, to accept the simple fact - that maybe, maybe, you’re in love with someone you’re not sure feels the same. 

And that’s the tragic picture painted to me by Reply 1988 through Duk Seon and Taek’s relationship - an immature girl who refused to acknowledge that she was falling in love with a boy who she had no idea was in love with her his whole life.

1988-1989

1994-1995

#reply #1988 #duk seon #taek #duk seon x taek #appreciation post #heartbreaks #this post is more for me than anyone #so i will never forget #just how much i love this show #spoilers #galore #hyeri #bogum #lee #park #bo #gum #answer #me #reply series #kdrama #korean #drama

[hollywoodx4]

The Other Track (3/?)

I have a snow day today (which. My boss NEVER cancels school, so we’re celebrating hard.) so I’m trying to get things done, which means of course I’m writing instead of getting actual work done. So here’s some more underground railroad AU

____________________

Orpheus keeps himself between the two woman instinctively, although Eurydice doesn’t allow for much else. She walks along with him, looks mostly between him and the ground. She’s quiet. He cranes his neck often to whisper to her, to console “I’m sorry,” he breathes “I love you. We’re going home.”

              “It’s not your fault. Don’t blame it on yourself. We’re going home.” That’s all she says to him-some combination of three phrases, strung together with an I love you but always quiet, slow. She doesn’t look the same-to the untrained eye, maybe, but to a man who’d noticed everything about her from the moment she’d set foot in his life, there’s a lot to take in.

              Her posture is slightly hunched, her body a bit thinner and more worn. She struggles to take even steps, to keep herself in pace with him although he shortens his gait. Her clothing is sturdy yet stained, scuffed and used and without the even rows of stitching that made what she’d worn up above her own. She couldn’t repair what she’d worn underground. Orpheus knows this, but the lack of knowledgeable, thoughtful stitching hits him as he looks her over. And her eyes; they send his heart crashing down into his chest. Guilt wracks his entire body, makes his breathing heavy and course, his head spin. In her left eye, just in the very corner of its deep, warm brown, is a slight speckle of grey. The color had begun to drain; right there, on his lover, a reminder of what had happened. When he had been trying to save everybody else, he’d failed her. He can feel himself memorizing the detail, the muting of her eye, before he can stop his brain from doing otherwise. When she leans her head on his shoulder, he sees gray. Even when she squeezes his hand, looks up at him and he is consumed with a smile and the need to keep her close, his vision is clouded by the discoloration that will now be a permanent piece of her.

              -what he did to her.

              He can hear Hermes, an ever-present voice in his head. Orpheus is brought back to his childhood-to sitting on a barstool with a towel on his shoulder, wiping down glasses as his guardian looks on. He’s brought to his tiny hands on a guitar the size of his long, skinny torso, to the frustration of chords that didn’t quite sound right.

              “Try again,” Hermes would say, gentle in tone and with a soft hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay that it’s not right yet. Try again.” And he’d try; he’d try until the bar was closing, until Hermes hung up the last glass and looked at him with shining eyes-with pride. And then he kept going, learning notes and chords, instrument after instrument. He filled the bar with music that grew with him, with melodies that came as second-nature even as a young child. The things in his mind translated easier this way, through stories that could be told through pretty instrumentals and narrated by a voice carrying a melody. It didn’t take Orpheus long to pick music up once he’d started, but once he’d been on the receiving end of Hermes’s pride he vowed never to give it up.

              He’d spent most of his childhood trailing behind Hermes; tugging on his suitcoat, holding his hand…he’d grown to telling everybody that he was his father. To Orpheus, to a boy who had found a home filled with a guiding sort of love, Hermes was no less than a perfect match. He was accepted, he was loved, he was home. He hadn’t felt home in the mother who’d considered his melodies a burden, who ignored his curiosities with rolled eyes and told him to “just go play.” With Hermes, who let him sit on the barstool and chat to his heart’s content, who kept a conversation and let him speak for hours on one subject alone, Orpheus felt whole.

              There’s a memory that strikes him while they’re walking, while he’s pushing through dead leaves and kicking up dust with his shoes. While Eurydice holds him he feels her desperation, the need to stay close to him as he needs to stay close to her. He hasn’t felt this anxious, frantic sort of panic since childhood, and even now the memory is hard to access. There’s footsteps, even and firm. He’s walking to new territory-his mother barely even looks his way. He’s young-maybe six or seven-and he carries with him a knapsack containing nothing but a change of clothes and a blanket he kept with him everywhere he went. She holds his hand, but her grip is loose and passive. He can feel himself asking his mother question after question; where are we going? What are we doing? Where are we? She never answered him-didn’t need to. When she knocked on Hermes’s door, when they had their volatile conversation behind closed doors, she didn’t need to answer. He wished she didn’t.

              “He’s too much to handle-need a life of my own-a nuisance child-too loud, too loving, too much,”

              As they walk, as the scenery refuses to change and challenge him, the rest of him fills with the sound of their footsteps; brushing, echoing. Persephone is a driving force, knowledgeable and directive. She leads them along the broken railroad tracks, only speaking to let them know of bent-up metal, roots grown too far out of the ground.  She does not speak directly to Eurydice but looks often between her and Orpheus. He can read her-feel the crossroads between confidence and uncertainty, the slight falter in her usually exuberant, dominant presence. He nods at Persephone, gives her a smile and keeps himself tethered to his lover. It is not from a place of mistrust, but thanks. When she turns her head to look at them, the shattered, apologetic nature of her slightly dropping posture, he looks down at the hand entwined with Eurydice’s, then back up. It’s a way of thanks, this silent conversation, and it drives her forward.

              Eurydice pulls him from his daydream; she’s calling his name, each syllable dropping softly from her lips. From her place beside him she looks up-looks at him and he can see it there, her love. He can see it as clearly as he ever has. Even though her cheeks are gaunt, even though she’s changed in the time it’s taken him to travel all this way…even though she’s not the same, her love is. Orpheus can’t wait to bring her back, to sit with her at the bar and play music, to build a house and a garden and a life he can finally see stretching out in front of him with certainty. He can’t wait. This life stretches out in front of him, creating pictures in his mind of the way that things could be if they surmounted this obstacle. And then….too loud, too loving, too much. He closes his eyes, begs the memories to stop clashing with his present. They create a dissonance, an echo of doubt as his mother’s voice takes over the future in his mind. The home and the garden and the life with Eurydice shifts; he finds himself alone, back in the bar, playing music to a noiseless crowd. Eurydice is gone, has found someone who can provide for her the things he was not able to. He takes in ragged breaths as this possibility crosses his mind, fights to erase his boundless optimism with the voice of his mother, the one who’d doubted him and cast him out, plays a ferocious soundtrack on a continuous loop.

              “Orpheus,” Eurydice-her hand holds soft pressure on his shoulder, shakes him gently. “Orpheus, listen to me.”

              When he blinks into focus her gaze is warm, her eyes glistening with emotion. She shakes her head, brushes her hand along his cheek and takes pause there. She’s scared too-behind the warmth, behind the comfort and the run of her fingers along his shoulder, her own breathing is uneven. She’s quaking-just the slightest bit, just enough for him to feel against his body. The rest of the world-the dust and the brambles and the smoke-swirled sky-everything disappears for a moment. His focus is Eurydice, her voice chasing away his doubts, turning them into dust that joins the air.

              “I need you to think about something for a minute.” She settles herself as comfortably as possible on the hard ground, curls herself into his side and rests her head in the space just below his neck. He adjusts himself to fit her without thinking, brings both arms around her and rests his back against the slope of the hill so they can lay at an incline. The pressure of her body against his sets his breathing back and he hitches his focus to it, to brushing his fingers through her hair as he watches her speak.

              “When we get home, can we get chickens?” He almost laughs, the combination of her soft, low voice with such a random question, the way her expression seems to dance between the present and the future, just as his hand, dreaming.

              “Chickens?”

              “I mean, not right away-I don’t know much about them other than the fact that my grandpa used to have them out in his backyard. I used to help him get the eggs, put them in a little basket and bring them up to the house. Sometimes we’d sell them, sometimes we’d eat them…”

              She stops mid-thought, glimmering, the corners of her mouth upturned. He can’t help but kiss her then, pull her body further into his and hold her there. She laughs against his lips, presses her forehead against his and runs her fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck. Orpheus takes her in, attempts to memorize the feeling he’d gone so long without. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes they’ll make it. In the forefront, where he’s filled with the rush of relief that comes with her body against his, Orpheus knows they’ll be alright.

              “Chickens.” He says, almost a confirmation. She nods her head, still laughing, and a feeling of exuberance bubbles upward from his toes, settles in his stomach in a happy little dance. “Alright, chickens it is.”

#hadestown #orphydice #UG Railroad au #i don't even know if these are really coherent anymore #all I know is that for some reason we need to give Eurydice chickens. #and that maybe some day there'll be actual substance to this

[madamslayyy]

Log Cabin and a Brewing Fire Part III

Pairing: Nebraska Williams (Trevante Rhodes) x Reader

A/N: here we go, I’m sorry for hoarding this chapter for so long, I actually had it 95% finished before Spring Break, I just needed to add a couple of paragraphs and revise. But here it is now and I’ve already started in the next chapter. As always let me know what you guys think, Good, Bad, or otherwise, it really helps me as a writer. Also just another reminder this is a SLOW BURN story, so yeah the actions pretty liteeeee

PART ONE - PART TWO

~*~

You awoke to the sunlight pouring into your bedroom. You weren’t quite ready to get up yet so you shrunk back into your pillow, attempting to pull the covers over your head but they wouldn’t move. You tugged a little harder but they wouldn’t move an inch. You cracked an eye open only to be met with the figure of your late night guest sleeping peacefully beside you. He also was the reason you were currently unable to retreat into your blankets, his enormous figure taking up most of them.

You took a moment to examine him. He slept on his tummy, face buried into his pillow. You knew he had to have been in an incredibly deep sleep because his durag was sliding off his head a little. You reached over and adjusted it for him, hoping it wouldn’t wake him up. He didn’t even twitch.

You decided now was as good a time as any to get up since it looked like you weren’t gonna be going back to sleep any time soon. You pulled back the covers then suddenly remembered you’d slept in just your underwear and a T-shirt. You grabbed some real clothes from your drawer and made a b-line to the bathroom to get dressed.

Once you were presentable enough to not have bacon grease pop on your bare thigh, you headed downstairs to cook some breakfast.

You had no idea what time Nebraska fell asleep last night so you couldn’t really tell if you should wake him up for breakfast or let him sleep through. The snow was falling at a steady pace and starting to really build up outside.

You decided to cook a vegan omlette with spinach for breakfast. You went ahead and made two, just in case Nebraska woke up hungry. He could always just heat it up.

You’d barely got them out of the skillet and onto the plate when he came trudging down the stair.

“Good morning sleepyhead, you’re just in time for breakfast.” You said setting down both plates.

“Morning,” his voice was still heavy with sleep. He walk to the cupboard to get himself a glass of water, chugging the whole thing then filling up another.

“How’d you sleep last night?” You asked cutting at a piece of the omelette.

“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” he said rubbing his eyes as he sat down.

“Well they say ambiance is everything. Wish I could’ve put on my ‘Rainstorms’ playlist, that’ll really knock your out.” You rambled taking a bite of your omelette. You glanced at your phone, realizing it was later than you thought. With the snow picking up outside you’d probably need a little extra time to get to work so you decided to go ahead and start getting dressed. You trashed the remainder of your breakfast and headed to put your plate in the sink.

“You’re finished already?” Nebraska said eyeing your now empty plate. Your pretty sure this was the first time he spoke to you without you prompting him. Progress.

“Yeah I gotta go get ready for work,” you said turning around to wash your plate.

“At the museum right?”

“Yeah actually! How’d you know?”

“Your uncle told me. He talks about you a lot.”

“No embarrassing stories I hope,” you chuckled. The corners of Nebraska’s mouth turned upwards slightly in an almost smile.

“The museums closed today isn’t it?”

“What makes you think that?”

“It was on the News.” Of course he would be the type of guy to watch the news. You quickly called your boss, her phone ringing three times before she finally picked up.

“Hello?” She said gruffly.

“Mrs. Tilly? It’s Y/N,”

“Ooohhhhh Y/N! Hello dear how are you?”

“Fantastic. Is work cancelled today?”

“Oh you don’t know? There’s supposed to be a major blizzard rolling through tonight. Don’t you watch the news?” If you could express your eyeroll through the phone, you would.

“No Mrs. Tilly, I didn’t catch the news this morning,” you deadpanned.

“Oh well the museum received notice per the City Regulations Department that all public facilities, the museums and schools alike, were to be closed for the rest of the week. This is a great opportunity for you to get some rest dear, you’ve been working so hard lately on those new exhibits, take some time for yourself for once ,” she said sweetly.

“Thank you Mrs. Tilly, stay safe,”

“You too dearie!” You hung up the phone and headed back to the kitchen.

“Apparently the museum is closed. All week in fact. And I had so much work to catch up on,” you sighed, looking in the fridge to survey the amount of groceries you had left. You hadn’t been grocery shopping in a while because of how busy you’d been at work but you definitely were going to have to make a trip if being snowed in for the next 3-4 days was a possibility.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to make a quick run for groceries and supplies, would you like to go with me?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Sure,”

~*~

An hour later you and Nebraska were piled into your car and driving into town. With where your house was, it was about a 20 minute drive just to reach the entrance of town. You turned the radio up, hoping to kill a little bit of the silence but a new rendition of Jingle Bells was all that sounded through the vehicle.

“Sheesh it’s still October,” Nebraska muttered sinking into his seat.

“Not a big fan of Christmas music?” You asked, eyes on the road.

“Nah, not really .” You changed the station. Mariah Carey singing “We Belong Together,” took its place.

~*~

“Okay so almond milk, oatmeal, tofu, r-“

“Can I ask you something?” Nebraska chimed in as you read off your grocery list while the two of you strolled down the aisles.

“Of course, ask away,”

“So being vegan was a personal choice or is it a health thing or-“

“I’m not vegan.”

“Not?”

“At all.”

“Ohhhh,” he looked down awkwardly and you smirked.

“What? You don’t like my cooking?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“It’s just... um.... different.” He nodded, a small smirk playing at his own lips.

“Well if you don’t like it then tell me what you’d like me to cook then,” you chuckled continuing down the aisle.

“Maybe we cou-

“Y/N! Oh it’s been so long!” You and Nebraska turned around to see just who was calling for you.

It was none other than Tonya Manning, Principal of Dauntley High School, the only high school in town. She would routinely bring her students to the museum once a semester for a field trip, which she’d always set up and coordinate through you.

“Principal Manning, it’s great to see you. I’m assuming they cancelled school today?” You smiled as she came in to give you a hug.

“Oh no they cancelled all schools two days ago. Don’t you watch the news?” She said releasing you.

“Apparently not enough,”

“Oh hello! You must be Y/N’s man she’s been hiding! I’m Tonya Manning,” Tonya said holding out her hand. Nebraska politely took it.

“Nebraska Williams. And we’re.... not... like that.” He said obviously uncomfortable.

“He’s just a friend, Tonya. He’s taking a little vacation from the military right now so he’s staying with me.” You chimed in.

“Vacation from the military? How long you in town for?” Damn this woman was nosey.

“Couple months, don’t really have a solid time frame.” Nebraska spoke but you doubted Tonya heard a word of it. She was looking this man up and down as if he was a ribeye steak and she was a starving Cayote that hadn’t eaten in weeks. You knew he was good looking but apparently you weren’t the only one with working vision in this town .

“Well, we actually have a position open at the school. Our current JROTC coach is in his 80s and could use a strong, young militant like yourself to help get the kids who wanna serve in shape. The JROTC program is getting bigger and bigger each year and we really have to start expanding.” She smiled digging in her purse to pull out her business card before giving it to him.

“Give me a call sometime and we’ll set it up.” She bit her lip and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” Nebraska smirked and you began to realize whatever chance Tonya thought she stood might actually be mutual. You couldn’t really blame Nebraska, she was pretty, tall, had curves in all the right places and had even extra backside she retained curtesy of her two kids she had by her exhusband. Any man would go for her the same way any woman would go for him.

“Well it was nice seeing you again Tonya, call me soon and we’ll get that museum field trip in motion,” you spoke up sweetly to interrupt the giving each other bedroom eyes.

“Of course,of course! Bye Y/N, see you soon, Nebraska,” she smiled coyly, causing him to give a little wave. You could puke all over the both of them.

“So.... lets go get milk,” you smiled sweetly heading down the aisle.

~*~

The two of you were back home a couple of hours later, putting up groceries, or rather you watching Nebraska bring in and put up groceries while you attempted to help put away the small stuff.

“Are you hungry? Want me to make dinner?” You asked putting away the last of the groceries.

“No! But um thank you, I’m just not hungry.” You might have actually believed him if his stomach didn’t grumble the second he finished talking.

“Do you really hate my cooking that much?” You asked in a small voice.

“No! It’s not that! I just- I mean- you-“ he was at a lost for words and you couldn’t help the small smile that broke out across your lips.

“It’s okay, we just ate anyway so we’ll hold off on dinner for now,” you chuckled, getting a glass of water.

“Yeah we uh... just ate,” Nebraska glanced at his watch with his eyebrows furrowed. You headed up to your room and decided to get a head start on getting ready for bed since you’d be sleeping in Nebraska’s room tonight.

You really were genuinely happy he got a good night’s rest in your room. You would just take the necessities with you tonight but if need be, you could always switch rooms with him completely, it wouldn’t be too much of a pain to rearrange the two rooms.

Once out the shower and dressed for bed you decided to get as much work done as you could on your laptop for the new exhibits at the museum. Time must have slipped away from you because before you knew it, there was a light knock on your door, followed by Nebraska entering. He was dressed a bit more modest tonight, opting for Sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Too early?” He asked, closing the door behind him. You glanced at the clock on your screen and saw it was already 9:30 p.m.

“Not at all,” you smiled warmly. You saw a small smile grace his lips before he adverted his eyes, smile still playing at his mouth.

He hopped into bed in the exact same spot as the night before, damn near on the edge of the bed. Maybe he was trying to be respectful of your side but you didn’t really see the point since you wouldn’t be here anyways.

“You can come lie in the middle of you want, you don’t have to sleep on the edge,” you said shutting your laptop and getting up to set it on your desk.

“Oh okay,” Nebraska mumbled, inching closer to the middle. You continued over to your oil diffuser and set the scent on Lavender, your favorite fragrance to get you to sleep. You then connected your phone to the Bluetooth speaker in it and set your Quiet Thunderstorms playlist going.

“Too loud?” You asked, glancing over at him.

“It’s perfect,” he muttered in that deep voice and you felt your cheeks heat up. This entire situation could be taken out of context and be used in the most romantic daydream, but you had to snap yourself out of it. He was simply a guest of your Uncle. You had no right to look at him in such a way, he didn’t come here to be harassed like that.

“Well then in that case, Good Night and Sweet Dreams,” you bid your adieu and turned the lights out, leaving only the soft everescent glow of your fairy lights illuminating the room.

“Wait, where are you going?” Nebraska asked right as you were about to shut the door behind you.

“To your room?” You said turning around.

“Why are you going there?”

“Because we’re switching rooms so you’ll sleep better. You said last night was the best nights sleep you had in a while so if my room had anything to do with it, consider it all yours.” You smiled but he didn’t notice. You saw that something was clearly bothering him.

“I did say that. Okay, well uh, Good night then,” he said gruffly and you left but the whole thing was awkward. Did he not want you to sleep in his room? Where did he expect you to sleep? The couch? Not that you couldn’t but that’d get pretty old after a couple nights.

You settled yourself into Nebraska bed, still cold and perfectly made, feeling like it hadn’t been touched in 2 years instead of just 2 days. You couldn’t resist burying your head into the pillow, trying to catch the faint scent of his cologne but it wasn’t there. You were damn near exhausted earlier and now you found that sleep eluded you.

You been staring out the enormous window when you heard the door crack open.

“Y/N? You still up?” Nebraska whispered, well as much as his deep tenor would allow, while peaking his head through the door.

“Yeah. I am.”

“Can, um, can you come... back?”

“Back to my room? You changed your mind already? I thought the atmosphere helped you go to sleep.”

“It wasn’t the atmosphere that was soothing me to sleep...” Nebraska trailed off and suddenly you knew exactly what he meant.

~*~

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#trevante rhodes #trevante rhodes imagine #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante rhodes x you

[godzillamendoza]

My story of abuse and trying to overcome it

I talked about her before. Said some fake name. Avoided details. I’m ready now to tell the whole story. Maybe sharing it will help me get better. Because I can’t keep living like this. This is the story of how I was abused. And how I’ve tried to recover from it.

It’s 2015. I am 16 years old going on 17. I go to a small private school. Everyone’s either there because their parents keep them sheltered or they were kicked out of somewhere else for being a shitty student. She was the latter. I was the former.

She was really into sex for her age. Guys lined up around the block to ask her for a go. She had been at our school for less than 4 months and had already dated 2 other guys for a bit. I should have seen that as the first warning sign. I sat behind her in history class. I think she noticed one day that I just didn't pay attention to her the same way the other guys would. I just trained myself not to stare. To be polite and keep my feelings to myself after having so many girls treat me badly in middle school. I think she saw me as a challenge because I wasn’t an easy target.

So she started talking to me more. She got my phone number from one of my friends instead of just asking me for it. That should have been the next warning. I talked to her and developed a little crush, but I still had my reservations. She was so abrasive and crude. She cussed like a sailor, smoked behind the school at lunch, and showed up to class buzzed at times. She was set on partying and causing chaos. I was quiet and shy. Back then I had barely said the word "fuck" 3 times in my life.

Eventually she asked out another guy, and he said no. So she texted me about it. By that time I was in her friend zone and I was comfortable there. I assured her that this guy didn't know what he was missing and she'd find someone better. She asked me if I was someone better. She asked me to go out with her. I shut her down and said she was just in the rebound after a rejection and not thinking clearly. We stayed friends after that though.

So she asked again while we were talking one night. And I still said no. I told her I didn't want it to affect our friendship. I think half of it was my fear of her lifestyle and the other half was just not being used to those kinds of interactions. I wasn't ready to be in a relationship yet. Aside from some one-off dates with 2 girls prior that didn't go far, I had never had a girlfriend before.

One day she and a friend of hers called me on Skype while I was play Gmod with my friend Jackson. At first it was just 4 friends hanging out, but she kept steering the conversation, and her friend helped. Both girls kept saying I would be a great match for her, and that we'd be really cute as a couple. She kept insisting and the peer pressure of 2 other people being there made me say yes. She changed our relationship status on Facebook immediately to dating. My family and friends saw it. They were excited for me. A friend of hers named Lexie absolutely hated it and had an angry meltdown in the comments on that post. At first I thought she was being protective of her friend and thinking I wasn't good enough since I wasn't really part of their clique. Those girls dated soccer players or popular kids. I was the quiet guy that no one knew.

The next day was awkward at school. I didn't know how to be a boyfriend so I just acted how I always did. Nervous and always trying to make a joke. I figured if I could make her laugh I was at least doing something right. Her friends gave us nasty looks at lunch and in math class. Lexie was very disapproving and angry, and I thought it was at me for the longest time.  I talked with Lexie again recently. She confided in me some very personal things and revealed she was angry about my relationship because she knew her friend was "going to eat you alive, Xavier." She was right. I forgive her for being angry now, because I understand it wasn’t at me. 

At the end of that first day I tried to walk home but she grabbed my arm and asked if I was forgetting something. I had my first kiss. Her friends stood around us watching. Judging. Waiting for me to walk away do they could laugh and giggle like teen girls do. I felt terrible because I wanted my first kiss to be more romantic and intimate. Not this awkward, rushed, public thing.

We dated for around 5 months at first. We only got to hang out outside of school twice. The first was a somewhat pleasant date for Valentine's day. It was embarrassing how my mom had to drive us around because I hadn't gotten my drivers permit yet. But otherwise it was okay. We took pictures in a photo booth and hugged and kissed and played games. At the end when I dropped her off, I met her mom. Her mom intentionally spilled hot soup on one of her previous boyfriends, but she liked me. She thought I was charming and smart. She said dating someone like me would be good for her daughter. I really was different from all the guys she had been around. That's my last happy memory with her.

After that, our interactions would sour. She would tell me to stop sitting with my friends at lunch and just stay with her group, who all hated me and didn't talk when I was around. She'd force me to talk with her on Skype for hours while she did boring things like browse tumblr or text her friends. She would guilt trip me if I tried to leave to do anything else.

After 2 weeks, Lexie asked us in the hallway a very forward question. "Have you had sex with her yet?" Lexie seemed baffled when I said no. The girl seemed angry and disappointed. That was a turning point.

She would start being more provocative, more flirtatious. Sending me photos of her in her underwear, slipping her nipple out of her shirt while we talked on Skype. Asking me to send her shirtless pictures. I played along as well as I could but I never took the bait. I never fully gave in and it frustrated her. She started getting more aggressive in asking me and saying sexual things. I could tell she hated how little I reciprocated, but I just wasn't built for it. I didn't know how to do that and I wasn't ready.

I found out she sent pictures of me undressing to her friends. She showed me their reactions like I was supposed to be excited that they complimented my body, but that was a major breach of privacy and trust. One of the girls said "face ain't that great, but the abs are *thumbs up emoji*" or something and it really hit my self esteem. I stopped undressing for her a d taking those pictures. I just cut off from all of that part of our relationship. She hated it.

One day it snowed. Snowed harder than it has in a long time. The sky was just a white void. The ground was covered in fog and blizzard. It looked like Antarctica in our back yards for a day. But the school didn't cancel class.

After school ended, a student veered off the parking lot and hit a post. It caused a lot of chaos as the staff tried to help him and other students put on their parkas and gauked. She took it as an opportunity. She took me to a part of the school where no one went. An isolated little antechamber between the halls and the outside. My grandpa used to drive me home from school because my parents had to work. He called me and said he was outside waiting. She told me to tell him to wait. I made up a lie that I was finishing an assignment. I hung up and she started to kiss me. She got on top of me. I didn't like what was happening. I was frozen and timid. She grabbed my hands and made me touch her because I was too afraid to. I could taste the cigarettes in her mouth. Her braces scratched my lips. I just stopped being in that moment and looked outside at the snow falling. Her hands were cold and I felt this awful shivering in my bones while she touched me in ways I wasn’t comfortable with. It kept escalating and my phone kept ringing over and over. Eventually I found my courage and pushed her off me and told her I needed to leave. She was disappointed and angry that things didn't go any farther. That she didn't get what she wanted again. I felt so violated and sick and disgusting. I went outside in the snow. I couldn't even feel how cold it was. I got to my grandpa's car and he yelled at me for making him wait 40 minutes. I just apologized and asked to go home. He passed away earlier this year in 2020, and he never knew why I was so quiet on that ride home from school. I never told him why I was so afraid and sad on the ride TO school every day after that. 

She was angry then. She said hurtful things all the time. Told me sex stories about her previous boyfriends to maybe make me jealous or change my mind. Some days she'd corner me with her friends and they'd make jokes and pressure me to do things with her while they watched. One of her friends tried to pull my shirt off. She called me a faggot. The girl just laughed with them. She didn't see how much it was bothering me. Feeling pressured and watched and all those hands grabbing me and touching me. She just thought it was funny like the rest of them. 

She started talking about going to hang out with another guy she met on snap chat. Some guy named Patrick. I said I was worried something would happen between them and she made me feel guilty. Said I was being controlling. I backed off and acted complacent. I was well trained by that point. She didn't hurt me when I just gave her what she wanted. The day after she saw him, she was unusually mean. Calling me names and acting sick of me. I asked her what I did to deserve it and. She broke and told me she felt guilty because something did happen with her and Patrick. For once I decided to stand up for myself. I demanded to have his number. I texted him and asked what had happened. He gave me details while she just stood there, staring at me and looking guilty. He said they had been intimate. That he could give her what I couldn't. He said she complained about me all the time and he would have her by the end of the week. She said he was lying and she loved me, but I knew better. I felt the first panic attack of my life. I started shaking uncontrollably. I couldn't breathe. I was trying not to tear my hair out and cry. I was so panicked that after I was done calling her I just laid on the floor of my room and hyperventilated. 

She did the last nice thing she ever did to me. She was so worried about my mental health that she told me to call my mom and tell her I was having anxiety attacks and needed some help. I think she did this out of guilt for me and someone else she had hurt. She told me a story about another guy she had dated. This guy took a bunch of pills one night and killed himself in the bathroom of his home. His mom called her the next day to tell her what happened. To this day I don't know if that story was true, or just a fearful prophetic vision she wanted to avoid me fulfilling. I completely ignored the cheating and just latched onto that lone act of kindness since they had been so rare. I tried to talk myself down and pretend I forgave her and loved her.

After that it was weeks of uneasy normalcy. She stopped asking for sex and nudes. She talked to me a little less. One day I overheard her tell a story to one of her friends about how she lost her virginity at a party when she was 14... To a 25 year old. She told the story with pride like it was a fun romp, and not something disgusting and wrong. I understand now why she struggled with the concept of consent. She was a victim too, but didn't even know it. Or maybe just didn't care anymore. 

The second time we hung out outside of school was a fashion show she was a part of at school for some art class. Her and her friend (the one who tried to pull my shirt off) drove me to school. They bragged to each other about guys they had slept with and which ones had the biggest dicks. She knew I could hear them. I think she wanted to spite me with it. Or worse, she just didn't care about me being able to hear it. The show was stressful. Behind the stage I saw her put on her dress while acting cold. Wanting nothing to do with me. After the show we all went to the store. I bought her flowers to help her mood change, but she acted annoyed. She said she didn't have anywhere to put them. They dropped me off at home. Even though she was the one being cruel and spiteful, I was still the one who apologized to her. Like always. I thought about killing myself that night.

Instead I started working on this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t-ypqagJNXY&feature=youtu.be 

I showed it to her after it was done some time later. She said it was too nerdy and didn't watch past the first 30 seconds.

Days after the fashion show, she told me she just didn't feel like she was in a good place to be in a relationship. That she needed time to be single again, but she still loved me. I started sitting further away from her in class. I finally got to be around my friends again. I think I was more quiet at school than I was even before her.

She started posting pictures of herself and some girl holding hands on Facebook. I asked her why she lied about not being ready for a relationship. She just wanted to finally officially date this girl she had been cheating on me with for a few weeks (since apparently Patrick couldn't quite "measure up") I told her I didn't want to see her again. She begged me not to go and said she had gotten so used to me being in her life. I was her longest relationship by that point. As usual, I conceded and just forgave her. She and this other girl broke up maybe a week later. We then spent these awkward few weeks doing finals and avoiding eye contact. She told me one day she was transferring schools. Maybe because she was too guilty to stay and see me every day. Knowing what she did to me. Maybe she realized how fucked her reputation was at that school because none of her old friends talked to her anymore. Maybe she just wanted to get out and find a new hunting ground since guys here knew she was bad news. Maybe she wanted to transfer to help her chances of graduating because she had bad grades in every class except the one with a teacher who wanted to fuck her (And might have, I don't know. He was like 25, seemed really annoyed seeing me with her, ate lunch alone with her some days, and gave her A+ grades on assignments she didn't turn in) The last day of school came around and I knew it would probably be the last time I saw her in person. She was wearing one of my old jackets she had taken. A Batman hoodie that was too big for me, so it looked like a trench coat on her skinny body. I heard the bell ring and we both stood up. And I stared at her. I couldn't think of anything to say. So I just hugged her. And then I walked away. I never saw that hoodie again. 

For a few months I was alone again. Burying the trauma and heartache. I was so disgusted by my own body I stopped looking at myself in the mirror. Stopped looking down while taking a shower. Some days I would just lay on the floor in the bathroom feeling this empty hole in my chest grow bigger. I never lied to myself and pretended it was all because I missed her. I felt relieved to be away from her. But I felt worthless and unloved. 

Comic Con came again that summer. I was having fun. I was happy. I was finally starting to get back to normal. Then she messaged me... Told me she was there too. Asked me to come meet her. I was in a Deadpool costume having fun with my friend Jackson, who I made a Rorschach cosplay for since Watchmen was his favorite comic. I didn't want her to ruin it. So I gave her bad directions so she couldn't find me. I was eager to get to the hotel and change out of the costume so it would be harder for her to spot me. 

Later we went to the hotel and she texted me, saying she was sorry for how things went and that that she missed me. She asked if we could try again. The thing about abusive relationships, is that even when you don't want to, even when it hurts you, you give the other person what they want. It's like being hypnotized. You just can't see them sad. Even if deep down you hate them. Even if you wish they'd die, you just say yes to them. It doesn’t make sense until you live through it yourself. Remember that next time you judge someone for giving in to someone who hurts them repeatedly. They can’t help it. 

When we were dating the first time, she never went inside my house. She always had an excuse for why she had to skip dinner and meeting my family. I cleaned my whole house top to bottom 4 times because she promised to visit me 4 times. It took me a whole day each time. The 5th time I didn't do anything. I left my room a mess because I knew any minute I'd get that text saying "sorry I can't make it..." I knew that would happen again. A few days after comic con, I asked her if we could meet up. I was tired of being in a long distance relationship with someone who lived 20 minutes away. I told her to come to my cousin's graduation party.she swore she could make it. Then she didn't. And i told her I was tired of being let down. I wanted to just stay friends. She said she missed the party because a fight with her mom and she refused to just be friends with "someone she was still in love with" She told me she was in love with me. After everything that had happened. Everything she had done.

Time goes by. She texts me out of the blue again. She's now started dating another guy, and they're having problems. He wants to have sex in the first few weeks and she's stonewalling him. She says she's reevaluating why her relationships keep falling. Why they only last 3 weeks maximum. And she remembers we dated on and off for close to 7 months. Something was different about me. She says it was because I was the only one who never pressured her or asked. I keep my distance and wish her well. By that point I was too busy working on Spider-Man retrospective part 3. Sometimes it’s hard playing Web of Shadows now because I associate certain parts of the game with pausing to text her and what she was saying at the time. 

More time passes. More failed relationships. She keeps failing to hook anyone. She talks to me again. Says she missed me. She's in a new relationship with a new guy ALSO named Xavier. I don’t even know how to interpret that. She keeps acting like she can't stand him and I was “the one that got away.” She very much wants to rekindle things with me once again. She asks me to meet up for my birthday that was coming soon on July 4th. In the same stupid subservient trance, I say yes. I know she won't be there.

The night we were supposed to meet, she says she got too busy and we'll try again some other time. Then on Facebook she posts a picture of her and the other Xavier kissing with fireworks in the background. I connect the dots that she only talked to me when she was mad at him. I was the new Patrick. 

I write her a text. A long, angry, paragraph of hate for her behavior towards me. Her friends text me the next day asking "what did you say to her? She's been crying all day. You're such an asshole." Her boyfriend texts me. He asks what's going on, so i tell him "I know you're trying to defend her honor but she made plans to cheat on you with me. She's not good for you. She'll just hurt you." He tells me to go fuck myself. Makes a joke about me being a ginger. Clearly what i said bothered him. They break up shortly after.

In that long message to her, I never once brought up the sexual abuse. I still hadn't even accepted it happened. I just ignored it and yelled at her for everything else. A few bad relationships happen over the next 2 years. One with a girl I didn’t have feelings for, but I felt safe with because she was too afraid to even mention sex. The other with another girl that was just as verbally abusive and emotionally distant as the first one. These are just more weights on me. 

Then i met Anna. This was when my life changed. I fell in love with Anna almost immediately after we started talking. I had dated other girls after the first one, but I was never this... at peace. I never felt like they understood me or cared for me like Anna did. She was different. She had also been abused by her exes, but in different ways. One day while dating Anna, I start breaking down crying. I tell her everything that happened to me. I cry for maybe 5 straight hours. Anna cried with me. Both over what happened to me and her own traumas. She promises she'll never force me or hurt me. But now Anna realizes why we had been dating for weeks and I never brought up sex. Why I just completely avoided it. After that night we started getting more intimate. She wanted me to feel safe so she eased me through it. It started to feel fun to send pictures or flirt. She taught me how to do everything step by step. She was amazing. In the time since writing this initial post I’ve visited Anna in the Philippines. Being with her physically was freeing and felt different from everything I experienced before. I always felt safe with her and never afraid when we were intimate in person. I know she’s the girl for me, and we plan to get married later this year.  

I wrote the first girl one last message. Saying goodbye. I talked about the sexual abuse. How it made me feel. How it ruined me. How it gave me nightmares. I told her I wanted to make peace and move on And let go of the hate. She laughed at me and insulted Anna. And that was the last time I ever talked to her.

 I still have nightmares about her. Trying my hardest to forgive her. My natural defense mechanism of just being her pet. I keep dreaming of meeting her and trying my hardest to be nice, even though I'm so afraid I'm shaking. A year after we stopped dating I had a dream about marrying her and being terrified. I have dreams have her touching me again and I wake up. Some days the first thing I say when I open my eyes is a panicked "don't touch me." I developed a twitch in my neck from her. When people touch me unexpectedly, or when I'm stressed, or when the weather gets cold and the snow reminds me of that day. Just recently I woke up covered in sweat and hyperventilating just because I heard a voice in my sleep saying “we need to talk about__________” and saying her name. That’s all it takes sometimes apparently. Just hearing her name.

I still have a hard time with physical contact. I push people off if the hug me for too long. I feel my skin crawl when I think of her. I get these panic attacks where I feel her cold hands again. It feels like they're inside me. Feeling my skin from inside. Squeezing my ribs and lungs. It feels like there are ants on on my body and I want to claw out of my skin. Just tear it all off.

I hate how I owe all my current life to her. She made me so depressed and sad that I spent nights awake writing my novel. I wrote whenever I was sad, and she made me finish all 250 pages of it. When I ran out of book to write, I made that YouTube video. I was considering suicide every day and i made part 1 of the Spider-Man Games Retrospective to distract myself from thoughts of self harm. I think it makes sense in retrospect. There's jokes about self harm in there. An overly shocking joke about how awful it is to think Spider-Man wasn't there to stop someone from being raped because he was too busy catching balloons. I guess at the time I was angry no one tried to save me. Feeling like all the role models in my life were just out catching balloons.

If she hadn't made me that fucking depressed, I never would have made these videos. I wouldn't have the success of the channel. I wouldn't have met the scores of friends I have now. I wouldn't have Anna.

Everything good I have in life now is because of the awful thing she did. And it all feels a little tainted by that fact sometimes.

I've never really written it all out like this in this amount of detail before. It feels good to just lay it all out. But at the same time it makes me feel sick. I do think things have gotten better. With the help of a loving and amazing fiancee, and more friends than I think I deserve-- it’s gotten better. The nightmares are less frequent. I can handle being with someone now, and I want to be with Anna for the rest of my life. For whoever you are, if you know what it’s like to deal with this, and you’re afraid that people will judge you... I promise you that you’re valid and people will care and accept you. It does get better. Being open and trusting about what happened makes it easier, because you no longer have to deal with it alone. 

[anxiously-unsatisfied-world]

My Idiot - A Bakudeku Fic

Prompt: It's the worst blizzard of the season and Person A hears a knock at their door. When they open it, they are greeted with a soaked and barely conscious Person B. How they react is up to you. (this prompt comes from @curesforwritersblock and can be found Here)

Person A: Bakugou; Person B: Midoriya

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Title: My Idiot Pairing: Bakudeku Warnings: Strong language, food mention, kissing Word Count: 2,395

A/N: So this prompt absolutely screamed Bakudeku to me so I had to write it (and then procrastinate posting it for some reason? Idk, like it’s been done for two months) But either way, hope you enjoy! :D 

Bakugou has absolutely nothing to do. School is canceled due to the massive blizzard outside, all his homework has been finished, and anything else he can think of just sounds boring. He can't quirk-train since that'd be better to do outside and he beat the video game he was playing last week. Though he could always start up a new one…

Bakugou gets up and walks over to the shelf he keeps all his video games, scanning the titles for one he hasn't played in ages. With all the training at U.A., he hasn't had the chance to play many of these in a long while, so that'd be a good use of the snow day, especially since there's probably going to be more than one of them given exactly how much snow is falling outside.

He selects a game and puts it in the system, gathering a few snacks and blankets before curling up on his futon, ready for a long day of gaming.

Around two hours into the game, he hears a faint knocking but ignores it, believing it to be a tree branch tapping against a window with how faint the sound is. Besides, he'd have to get up otherwise and he's so warm where he is…

The knocking repeats, just as weak as the first time. Bakugou pauses the game and listens in the now silent room, waiting for the sound to repeat. It does, just barely stronger this time, and Bakugou groans.

"Who the fuck would be out in a fucking blizzard??" Bakugou grumbles as he rises to his feet, pulling down the sleeves of the black hoodie he's wearing. He continues to mutter as he heads to the front door, taking a second to peek through the peephole.

"The fuck?" He mutters as he doesn't see anyone outside. Despite this, he opens the door, wincing a bit at the blast of cold air that sweeps into the room, his eyes widening at what he sees.

A person's collapsed on his doorstep, just barely dressed for the weather but soaked to the bone. "Shit," Bakugou says as he steps out onto the doorstep, leaning down and lifting them into his arms, carrying them inside and shutting the door behind him.

The person shivers at the warmth of the house, the only sign of them being conscious is the way they're clinging to Bakugou's hoodie. He carries them into the bathroom, thinking it better to get them out of the wet clothes before doing anything else.

When he sets them down and pulls off their beanie, his eyes widening further, his heart wrenching in his chest. "Damnit, Deku." He says, his voice nearly cracking, "Of course, it'd be you…" He laughs humorlessly, biting his lip and heading into his room to choose a change of clothes for Midoriya.

As he walks into his room, it hits him how dire this situation is and he grabs some clothes, only caring enough to make sure he has one of each item. He hurries back into the bathroom, throwing the clothes on the counter and stepping up to Midoriya.

He leans closer to unzip the coat the other's wearing and as he does, Midoriya's eyes flutter open, weakly blinking at him. "K-Kacchan?" Midoriya mumbles, the words barely audible.

Bakugou bites his lip at the sound, it almost causing him to cry at how weak Midoriya sounds. Sure, he's called him weak in the past but never like this. God, not like this.

"Shut it, nerd. Save your strength." Bakugou says, the words not having any heat in them. It's impossible to pretend to hate him when he's looking this close to passing out.

Bakugou pulls the zipper down and gently wrestles the coat off of him, pulling his shirt off afterward, dressing him in one of his own shirts and hoodies. Midoriya just watches him, faint confusion in his eyes, but he's too tired to protest. Not to mention, these clothes are warm and dry…

Bakugou also switches out Midoriya's pants for a pair of sweatpants, setting all the wet clothes aside for later. Taking care of Midoriya is the more pressing issue than making sure the clothes dry properly.

He carefully lifts Midoriya into his arms again, carrying him into his room and settling him in the blankets he had been curled up in before. Midoriya sighs at the warmth, shivering faintly as the warmth begins to seep into him.

Bakugou watches him with concerned eyes, his hands faintly shaking. Damnit. That was far too close. Any longer and he might have had to go to the hospital. Again. Damn Deku.

Midoriya's eyes slowly flutter shut and his breathing evens out as his body grows warmer, realizing that he's safe. Bakugou shakes his head and makes sure Midoriya is fully covered before heading into the kitchen, grabbing the ingredients for soup and beginning to work.

From how cold Midoriya looked and how quickly he fell asleep, he must have been out in the cold for far too long and therefore, will likely be hungry when he wakes up. This is one thing Bakugou knows he can do without fail. Midoriya's never failed to compliment his cooking before and it should help him to warm up further.

Once the soup's finished, he carries a bowl of it back into his room, setting it down on his desk. He walks over and kneels in front of the futon, taking one of Midoriya's hands in his.

"Damnit, Deku. Why is it you're always hurting yourself?" Bakugou mutters softly. At least Midoriya looks peaceful sleeping like this, though he is still shivering… "Whether you mean to or not, it's stupid of you. Idiot." Bakugou scoffs, brushing Midoriya's bangs out of his face with his other hand.

Despite the harshness of his words, Bakugou's expression is soft as he gazes upon Midoriya's sleeping face. "I guess you're my idiot though… I mean, I did fall in love with you. Heh. How did I fall in love with such a dumbass like you, idiot Deku?" Bakugou questions, feeling safe to admit this since Midoriya's fast asleep.

"Y-you love me?" Midoriya asks softly, his eyes opening slowly to meet Bakugou's own. Or he's not. Shit. This is not how this was supposed to happen. He was never meant to find out this way. (or at all.)

Bakugou makes a face before sighing. No way out of this now… "Yeah. I do." Midoriya's eyes brighten and he grins up at Bakugou, squeezing his hand softly. "What's that look for, idiot?" Bakugou asks, rolling his eyes in faint exasperation for this boy.

"That's good." Midoriya mumbles, settling back into the blankets with an extremely satisfied smile, "'Cause I love you too."

Bakugou's heart skips a beat at the admission but he shakes his head, "You're just saying that. I don't know what the hell made you get out in that storm but you practically got hypothermia. I wouldn't be surprised if the confusion of that is making you say stupid shit like that."

Midoriya's eyes narrow and he scowls at Bakugou, "I do too mean it! I love you, Kacchan." Midoriya repeats and Bakugou lets a soft smile show on his face, even if he still doesn't quite believe it.

"Yeah, yeah. Repeat that when you've had more of a chance to warm up and rest and I'll accept it, alright?" Bakugou asks, standing up and going to get the soup, picking it up and bringing it over to Midoriya.

"Fine. I will. But it's still true." Midoriya grumbles, crossing his arms and pouting at Bakugou.

"Damnit, why do you have to be so cute?" Bakugou mutters under his breath, Midoriya barely able to understand him, but his eyes brighten further when he understands him.

"You think I'm cute?" Midoriya asks with a playful smile, giggling faintly when Bakugou growls at him.

"So what if I do? You're going to eat this soup and get better. Then we can discuss all of this." Bakugou kneels down beside him and stirs the soup, gathering a spoonful and holding it out to Midoriya.

Midoriya blinks at the gesture but opens his mouth, letting Bakugou feed him. Bakugou scowls at the confusion in his eyes, looking away as he prepares another spoonful. "Shut up. I'm just doing this since you're too weak to do anything right now."

Midoriya's heart warms at the fact that this how Bakugou shows that he cares. If Bakugou wants to nurse him back to health, then Midoriya's more than willing to let him.

Bakugou spoon-feeds him the rest of the soup before setting the now-empty bowl back on his desk to be dealt with later. When he turns back to Midoriya, he's met with a pleading expression and he crosses his arms, "What do you want, nerd?"

"Cuddle me? I'm still cold." Midoriya says, making grabby hands at him, his eyes wide and shimmering slightly.

"Curse you and your fucking puppy dog eyes," Bakugou grumbles, dragging a hand down his face. "Fucking fine. I'll cuddle you but I get to play my game while I do."

Midoriya eagerly nods his head and Bakugou walks over, lifting Midoriya up enough to settle behind him, letting him laying against his chest. Midoriya snuggles closer to him as Bakugou grabs the controller, looking down at him with a fond expression.

"You comfortable?" Bakugou asks, unable to stop himself from smiling as Midoriya shuts his eyes and snuggles into him.

"Mhm." Midoriya nods and Bakugou huffs out a soft laugh, reaching down and ruffling Midoriya's still faintly damp hair.

"Good. You get some rest and we'll talk more when you wake up next. By the way, you're not going anywhere else until the blizzard is over and the roads are safe again. There's no way in hell I'm letting you back out there when you've done this to yourself."

"M'kay," Midoriya mutters, his voice slurring as he's on the edge of falling asleep. Bakugou just smiles and starts up the game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

They remain in this position for several hours, Bakugou not wanting to move until Midoriya wakes up lest he wake him up accidentally. Besides, this isn't the worst thing in the world, having your maybe-requited crush snuggled up against you. There are definitely worse situations to be in.

Midoriya grumbles softly as he begins to stir, warning Bakugou to save and pause the game. Midoriya continues to make soft, barely conscious sounds as he wakes up, which Bakugou finds utterly adorable though he's loathe to let Midoriya know. Don't want to invoke any more teasing.

Bakugou feels him tense up when he's fully awake and before he thinks of what he's doing, Bakugou curls his fingers into Midoriya's hair and runs his hand through his hair, which is surprisingly not as tangled as he expected. That and it's really soft…

Midoriya relaxes slowly and turns to meet Bakugou's eyes, smiling up at him. Bakugou feels a weight lift from his chest when Midoriya's eyes are already clearer than they had been when he first looked into them after he found him.

"Feeling better?" Bakugou asks softly and Midoriya nods, nuzzling up into Bakugou's hand.

"I love you, Kacchan," Midoriya says and Bakugou huffs softly, unable to help from smiling at that.

"Guess I have to believe you now, huh?" Bakugou asks fondly, "You seem more aware than you were earlier, so I have to ask. What the fuck caused you to go out in that blizzard?!"

Midoriya laughs sheepishly and looks away, biting his lip softly before answering, "I, uh, heard someone call out for help and had to go help them. But I ended up getting lost in the blizzard just after helping them…"

Bakugou sighs at that, "At least you found your way here. Better than if a villain found you." Both of them shiver at the thought of that happening. "Now, like I said, you're not leaving until that storm is over and it's all safe for you to go home."

"But…" Midoriya starts, getting cut off by Bakugou putting a finger over his mouth.

"No buts. If you need to call your mom, you can let her know you're safe. But you're not leaving this house." Bakugou says and Midoriya nods, knowing he's not going to convince Bakugou otherwise.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Kacchan," Midoriya says softly and Bakugou scoffs, ruffling his hair.

"You think I'd let someone stay out and freeze? Especially if it's the stupid idiot that I love?" Bakugou asks and Midoriya laughs softly at that.

"True. You're my hero, Katsuki." Midoriya says, giggling when Bakugou's face goes bright red.

"Shut up, idiot…" Bakugou blinks as Midoriya leans up, pressing his lips to Bakugou's cheek softly. Bakugou's eyes widen and he blinks a few times, his blush darkening. "I, uh, Deku… What?"

Midoriya laughs brightly at that, "Oh my gosh, you're speechless!" Bakugou snaps back at that, his eyes narrowing as he playfully pushes Midoriya's shoulder.

"Yeah, I could make you speechless too. It's not that hard." Bakugou says and Midoriya feels a flare of competitiveness rise up in him at those words.

"Oh yeah?" Midoriya taunts and Bakugou raises an eyebrow, cupping Midoriya's face and leaning down, pressing their lips together. He breaks the first kiss and goes in for another deeper one that has Midoriya's toes curling under the blankets.

When Bakugou pulls back this time, Midoriya is visibly dazed, his cheeks a vibrant pink. "Uhh…" Midoriya mutters and Bakugou laughs.

"I can't make you speechless, huh?" Bakugou asks through his laughs, the sound of it causing Midoriya's heart to flutter in his chest. He hasn't heard Bakugou laugh like that in a long time…

"Okay, Kacchan. You win." Midoriya says, grinning as Bakugou puffs up at those words.

"Hell yeah, I do." Bakugou kisses him one more time before leaning back, "So, what do you say about watching a movie together?"

Midoriya nods eagerly and Bakugou turns on the TV. Midoriya snuggles further into Bakugou as they settle on a movie, relaxed and feeling much better than he had when Bakugou found him earlier that afternoon.

Sure, it may not have been the best idea to be out in one of the worst blizzards Japan has had for a while. But it certainly gave him something priceless in the end.

@fairytailtwists @the-forgotten-traveller

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in my BNHA stories! ^^ 

#bnha #bakudeku #katsuki bakugou #midoriya izuku #mha #my posts

[ilovemygaydad]

Dance, Dance

Part Three: Fairy God-Patton

Based off this post that you really need to read for context!

Pairings: Analogical and Royality (past sleeplogical)

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Logan, Roman, Sleep/Remy, Deceit/Dominic, October/Toby, September/Ember

Warnings: domestic abuse, swearing, sexual humor, crude comments, bullying, making out, abusive deceit, mentions of vomiting (just one word), step parents, food mentions, and possibly something else

A/N: hey so i just wrote a ton on this bus ride to a comp so that’s fun so here have some stuff

Tags: @adultmorelikeadolt​ @disneyfanatic77​ @logan-smarter-than-you-sanders​ @punsterterry​ @mycatshuman​ @fluidityandgiggles @sadpunkrat @theunoriginaldaisy

Masterlist | Ask Blog | READ ON AO3

“Patton, I don’t think I’m going to go to the ball...” Virgil didn’t dare look up from where he was picking away at his nylon tights. He already knew the look that Patton was giving him; he didn’t need to see it.

“What?! Virge, I’ve been working on our dresses for two weeks! You can’t cancel on me the day of!”

“I know, but come on, Pat. It’s Valentine’s day, and we don’t even have dates. It would just be miserable. Guys don’t even know that I exist. At least you’re cute!”

The glare that Patton gave Virgil was hot enough to melt steel. He pushed himself off of his elbows and into a sitting position on Virgil’s bed. “It’s a masquerade! Nobody will know who you are, and you can just flirt with cute guys.”

“Oh my god,” Virgil sighed. “It’s even worse because it’s a masquerade! First of all, you can’t even tell which guys are cute because they’re, you know, wearing a mask.”

“Hush. Let me tell you how this will go. We go to the masquerade ball, and you’ll be able to just be you instead of a fabrication of yourself made by this lame-ass high school hierarchy! Not to mention that you don’t even have to worry about making a fool of yourself because no one will know who you are if you don’t want to reveal your identity. You’ll find some guy who can dance well and looks super hot, and it’ll be--”

Virgil cut him off with a laugh. “Patton, dude, we have got to practice you breathing during rants.”

“Don’t distract me. You’re going to the ball, and that’s final, kiddo.”

“Yeah, righ--shit! I forgot to start cleaning!” Virgil jumped up from his chair and ran out the door.

“Bye!”

“Daddy!” Toby screeched, walking into where Dominic was getting a massage. “We were on our way to get manicures--you know, for the ball?”

“And?”

“And I heard Virgl talking about going to the ball!”

Dominic pushed himself up slightly, looking at his twins. “Oh, no… That won’t do at all.”

“Make him clean my room!” Ember said.

“And my closet! I think something died in there,” added Toby.

“Oh, no. I have a very special place for him to clean…”

“Virgil!”

With a muted groan, Virgil glanced up at Dominic. He was dressed in that stupid yellow bathrobe that he wore after massages, and he had equally ugly slippers on his feet. Virgil fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Next week is the twins’ sixteenth birthday--”

“Wait, didn’t they turn sixteen last year?”

Dominic pursed his lips. “Yes, and they will continue to turn sixteen until I tell them to stop. Anyway, you need to have the menu in order by tomorrow so that I can approve it. Oh, and I’m going out clubbing with what’s-his-face tonight, and it’s my turn to throw the afterparty. We will be back by midnight, so I expect that this house will be absolutely spotless upon my return.”

“Dominic, I’ve cleaned every inch of this place.”

“Oh, no, you haven’t.” Dominic smirked. “You’re going to clean my bedroom. Follow me.”

If he hadn’t promised Patton that he’d stay alive through senior year, Virgil probably would have dropped dead that instant from sheer horror. Slowly, he pushed himself up; his feet numbly moved to follow Dominic up the stairs. In the ten years that he’d been living with Dominic, there hadn’t been a single instance where Virgil had gone into Dominic’s room. This was completely uncharted territory.

And, holy shit, it was awful.

Mounds of clothes in all shapes, sizes, and colors were scattered around the room. Old pizza boxes and take-out containers littered every surface, and, god, there was rancid food just laying on the floor. Natural light wouldn’t even filter through the blinds because they were so coated in dust, and the overhead lamp was barely any better. Virgil didn’t even know if this could be classified as a bedroom--it looked and smelled more like a dump.

“Dominic.” Virgil winced as his voice squeaked. “I’d need heavy equipment to clean this place. For example, a flamethrower and thirty gallons of bleach.”

“Don’t sass me, smarty pants! I can still take away your school privileges, too. You can say goodbye to those trendy little friends of yours. Or, should I say, friend, Mr. Not-So-Popular.” Dominic laughed at his joke and turned to leave, but he slipped on something and stumbled. A fucking fish stick. “Oh, and clean up these fish sticks. They’ve been here since Lent.” The door shut as he exited so violently that dust fluttered down from the ceiling fan like gray snow. Virgil sneezed.

“Gross.” While picking his way to the bed, Virgil examined the room. It was so much more disgusting up close than it was from the doorway. Gingerly, so that he wouldn’t accidentally touch anything that had the possibility of killing him, he sat down and picked up the phone, dialing Patton’s number.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?”

“Pat, I can’t go to the ball. Dominic’s making me clean his room tonight, and there’s no way I’ll get done in time.”

“Oh my god,” Patton’s words were slightly jumbled, and Virgil was pretty sure that he was eating a cookie. “You’re in his lair?!”

“Dude, there are species of bugs in here still unknown to science. It’ll take me days to get this done--not even including whatever hell Dominic puts me through for not getting it all clean tonight.”

“I think I have an idea--” Patton was cut off by a click.

“Hello? Virgil, when I said no phone, I meant the landline, too!”

Virgil panicked, not wanting to bear any more punishment. “Sorry! Pat, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The phone slammed down on the dock with far more force than Virgil expected, and he flinched back. Something sticky and wet was suddenly under his hand. Gulping, he looked back and saw melted chocolate all over the silk sheets. Virgil felt lucky that it wasn’t some expired pizza, but it was still not ideal.

With a sigh, Virgil stood up to gather an entire cleaning service worth of supplies.

The doorbell rang at around nine thirty. Virgil had barely made a dent in the mess, and he’d honestly resorted to just throwing everything into garbage bins to burn. Eight of them were full already. Eight.

Virgil opened the door. “Patton! Hey, how are--Patton, please don’t tell me that those are our dresses.”

“Sorry. They are!” Patton smiled unapologetically.

“Dude, I can’t go. End of story.”

“What if I could tell you that you could go to the ball, and the room would be completely clean when you get back?”

Virgil paused, looking quizzically at Patton. “I’d say that you’re amazing, but, Pat, you can’t stay here and clean alone. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

Patton’s grin widened. “Who said that I was alone?” He stepped out of the way, and three adults came into view. One was tall with purple hair similar to Virgil’s, the next was slightly shorter with a bright orange beanie, and the last was adorably short with colorful hair. “Virgil, meet my cousin’s boyfriend and his friends. They own a cleaning company, and were nice enough to help. Guys, meet Virgil.”

The tall one spoke up, smiling sweetly. “Oh, you’re going to the ball? That’s awesome!”

Virgil nodded as Patton spoke again. “We sure are! Thomas, Joan, and Talyn are going to clean for you. They’re the sweetest, really. Well, they’re super weird, but they’re nice, too.”

The one in the beanie scoffed. “Yeah, as if you aren’t any better! Plus, Thomas is pretty normal.” They nudged the smaller one. “Talyn is pretty weird, though. They don’t really have anything to say otherwise.” Talyn punched Joan on the shoulder in retaliation, but they both laughed.

Virgil smiled as he watched what was happening. As much as it hurt to see such a healthy, family-like dynamic, he was really happy that Patton had such wonderful people in his life. As soon as the bantering died off, he showed the cleaning crew upstairs. Just before he opened the doors to the bedroom, Virgil glanced back. “It’s a mess in there. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, that’s alright!” Thomas said. “Our motto is ‘there’s no mess that’s too messy!’”

Virgil shrugged and opened the doors. Bins lined the walls, and most of the mountains of dirty clothes still remained. It looked the same--if not worse--as it did when Virgil had started six hours earlier.

“Holy shmokes. That… That’s too messy, Patton.”

“Thomas, you promised!” Patton threw on his best puppy eyes, and Thomas all but groaned in complacency. “Thanks! I love you!” In a flash, he grabbed Virgil’s hand and sprinted out of the bedroom to Virgil’s room in the pool house.

“Geez, Pat, slow down!”

“I can’t! We’ve got to get ready!” The door to Virgil’s room slammed shut behind them, and with shining eyes, Patton held out one of the clothes bags. “Get dressed. We’re going to that ball.”

Part Four

#analogical #royality #sanders sides fic #thomas sanders fic #m writes things #cinderella!au #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #dance dance fic

[mizmahlia]

Snowstorms and Sled Races

This was written to fill @thefuriousstarlightstudent ‘s Christmas stocking for the Batfam Christmas Stocking Exchange over at AO3. The prompt I used was Damian going sledding for the first time.

You can read it here or over at AO3.

Have a great read! :)

Damian sat in the study and watched the snow fall. At his last check, the storm had dropped nine inches and counting and the forecast called for another eight to ten by nightfall. School was cancelled for the day and he was stuck at home with nothing to do. Patrol that night would be limited, since getting around by rooftop when they were covered with a foot and a half of snow wasn't exactly safe. There was distinct chance he would be stuck inside all weekend and he dreaded the possibility. Cass appeared in the doorway with a coy smile. He acknowledged her, a single brow raised in question, and she smiled wider. "Time to play," she said quietly. With a speed few people could process, she whipped a snowball at him and it hit him right in the sternum, snow exploding in his face. She disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared, leaving a spluttering Damian in her wake.

Minutes later, he was dressed in his warmest winter gear and following her footsteps through the snow. The wound around the perimeter of the Manor and back into the trees. He held a tightly packed snowball in his hand, ready to pelt someone if they so much as blinked in his direction. Halfway through the woods her footsteps completely disappeared and he knew she'd climbed up into the trees. Before he glanced up, he darted out of the way and grinned as a enormous snowball dropped from above. "Ha! You missed me, Cass. I'm too..." "Psst. Damian." Damian looked up and scowled when he saw Tim's smiling face just as he dropped another snowball the size of a watermelon. It crumbled the moment it Damian's face, sending a cascade of snow down both the front and the back of his jacket. Both Tim and Cass climbed down from their perches and watched Damian shake the snow from his jacket. "Well played, Drake. That won't work twice." Tim laughed and rolled his eyes, his cheeks rosy from the cold. "Both of you come this way. There's a hill that's perfect for sledding on the south side of the property." Damian glanced at Cass, who waggled her eyebrows. "You're not seriously going sledding with him, are you?" Cass shrugged. "Never tried it. Could be fun." Tim nodded to the trail behind them. "Come on, Damian. It'll be fun. I promise. If it's not? I'll let you pelt me with snowballs for a solid five minutes later." Damian sighed. "Fine. Only because I know this will be a total waste of time." Cass grinned and tugged Damian's jacket. "Don't be such a Negative Ned, little brother." Damian snorted and allowed Cass to drag him along. "You've been hanging around with Stephanie way too much."

Dick entered the Manor, shaking the snow from his hair. He'd barely made it before the roads out of Gotham were shut down. "Anybody home?" "Master Dick, must you yell? You're indoors, for heaven's sake." "It's so quiet around here, I wasn't sure anyone was home." Alfred gave him a look that clearly said he didn't buy the excuse. "Where is everyone?" Alfred took Dick's jacket and scarf, moving to hang them in the nearby closet. Dick rubbed his hands together and headed toward the kitchen for something warm to drink. "Master Timothy stayed home today on account of cancelled meetings. Master Damian is home as well, as is Miss Cassandra. I believe they're out playing in the snow." Dick stopped and spun on his heel, turning to Alfred. "I beg your pardon.. they're.. playing in the snow?" Alfred nodded and Dick took off sprinting up the stairs. "Shall I get your winter gear?" "No need, Alfred! I'll get it myself!" Alfred smiled as he mopped up the melting snow by the front door. Four down, only a couple to go.

Bruce was in his office reviewing a new clean energy contract for Wayne Enterprises when he heard someone sprinting down the hallway. There was a blur as whoever it was ran past and the footstep grew faint again, before whoever it was came running back down the hallway. "Hey, Bruce. Gonna head outside. Damian is, and I quote, 'playing in the snow'." Bruce opened his mouth to say hello to Dick, but he was gone before he had the chance. The meeting to sign off on the contract wasn't until after the holidays on account of the blizzard, so there was no harm in setting it aside for a few hours. At least that's what he told himself. He made sure his phone was charged and he went to dig his skiing gear out of his closet. If the kids were playing outside, he refused to miss the opportunity to witness it. He just had to find his boots, the good ones. Otherwise his feet would get cold too quickly and he'd be miserable.

Dick, Tim and Damian were going over the rules for the sled race when Jason arrived with three more sleds. Cass pelted him with a snowball from her hiding place in the treeline before disappearing again. "Jason! You made it!" Dick laughed, gesturing to the sleds he was carrying. "You must have talked to Alfred already." Jason dropped the sleds next to the others and zipped up his coat a little further. "Yeah. He said I have to send an injury report, so hold still while I take a photo for proof." They lined up and waited for Jason to get his gloves off so he could take the photo. Just as he raised his phone, Cass appeared behind them and gave Dick and Tim bunny ears as Jason snapped a photo. "There," he said, sending it to both Bruce and Alfred with a grin. "Now, what are we playing and what are the rules?" Dick rubbed his hands together and looked at Jason. "It's a relay. One from each team goes down the hill, the second can't go until the first one gets back to the top. First team done, wins." Jason threw his head back and laughed. "I like it. Teams?" Tim frowned. "Someone will have to sit out. Steph isn't here yet so we only have five people." Cass pointed over Tim's shoulder. "Bruce can play." Dick and Jason looked at each other and immediately started talking over one another. "He's not on my team." "Definitely on your team." Damian rolled his eyes when they started to argue. "Richard, Cassandra and I are on one team. Jason, Tim and Father make up the other team." Cass fist-bumped Damian. "We got this," she mock-whispered, making Damian smile. "In case you hadn't noticed, short-stack, Bruce and I have the longer legs. In snow this deep, that is what we call an advantage." Jason said as he rested his elbow atop Damian's head. Damian swept his leg for the trouble, sending him tumbling backwards into the snow. Dick rolled his eyes and knelt next to the sleds to pick the two with the least amount of wear. He winked at Cass and fist-bumped her before choosing two of them. "Not necessarily," Dick replied, "you two also weigh the most, so you waste more energy hauling all of that muscle around." Jason sat up and grabbed Damian by the back of his jacket, tugging him down into the snow alongside him. "Okay, so who's up first for Team Kickass?" Bruce watched in amusement as Tim rolled his eyes at the name. "That's the best name you can come up with, Jason?" Jason and Damian continued to wrestle. Damian managed to wriggle free and shove Jason's face into the snow. He came up spluttering and laughing, scraping snow from his nose. "You got anything better, Doctor Midnite?" Cass, Dick and Damian started to laugh. Tim scowled at all three of them. "Of course Steph would tell you about that," he muttered. "But why don't we let the oldest member of each team pick?" Tim glanced at Bruce. "Please tell me you can come up with something better than Team Kickass." Bruce and Dick looked at each other and Bruce motioned for Dick to go first. "Fine. We'll be.. Sled Team Six." Cass and Damian looked at him strangely. "Like the Navy Seal Team Six? The elite military unit? As in, 'we're so good that we're done before you even know we're there?'" Damian looked at Cass and they both shrugged. Bruce looked at Jason, giving him a nudge with his elbow. Jason grinned as an idea came to him. "And we're Team OG." Dick snorted when he laughed. "Seriously?" he asked. "Damn straight," Jason answered. "Three OG's right here- the original Batman, the Red Hood and Red Robin." He held out his fists and both Tim and Bruce bumped theirs against Jason's. "Rules?" Tim asked. "Only three," Dick answered. "One- the bottom is the fence at the property line. You have to reach out and tap it before you turn and come back. Two- the next person doesn't go until the sledder reaches this line." He packed down a start line with this feet. "And no contact with another sledder, whether they're a teammate or not." Everyone nodded in agreement. "So how exactly does this work?" Damian asked. Any and all conversation stopped and everyone turned to look at him. "What? I've never gone sledding before. Do you go head-first?" Jason began to laugh, but Dick silenced him with a glare as he spoke. "Yes, you go head-first. You put your sled down, take a few steps back and you run and dive onto it. You want that momentum to get you started. I'll go first to show you and Cass." Cass put her hand on Damian's shoulder. "Push forward when you jump, not down," she said. "You'll go faster." Damian nodded and got in line behind Cass, who stood behind Dick. On the other team, Jason lined up in front, Tim would be second and Bruce was last. Tim stepped up to the start line. "Everyone okay if I give the countdown?" They all agreed and Dick and Jason took their places at the start line several feet behind their sleds. "Three... two... one. GO!" Tim brought his arm down and both Dick and Jason sprinted forward and leaped onto their sleds. Dick's landing was smoother and he didn't lose any speed when he landed on the sled, but what Jason lost when he landed on his sled he made up for in the speed he gained because of his size. They were neck and neck on the way down, and the hill was steep so they gained speed quickly. Jason reached the bottom first, but he nearly collided with the fence. As a result, he lost time for having to roll off the sled. They heard Jason shout several colorful words as Dick smoothly glided to the fence and climbed out. He tapped the fence and started sprinting up the hill. Jason was about twenty yards behind him, swearing and laughing as he tried to catch up. Cass jumped up and down as Dick got closer, eagerly snatching the sled from his hands the moment he cross the starting line. She darted out onto it and sailed down the hill, laughing the entire way. Tim was only about ten yards back and taunted Cass that he was right behind her and would catch up in no time. Damian laughed when Jason collapsed in the snow next to Bruce, panting and muttering about being out of shape. Dick crouched and rested his arms on his knees. "What's the matter, Jaybird, all that muscle you brag about slow you down a bit?" Jason flipped Dick his middle finger and in a move much faster than they thought Jason capable of, he grabbed Dick and pushed him face-first into the snow. "What's the matter, Dickiebird?" he asked, still laughing and no longer as breathless, "those ninja-like reflexes not fast enough?" Damian looked toward the bottom of the hill and watched Cass smoothly roll out of her sled, tag the fence and take off back toward the top. Tim was right behind her and was gaining ground too quickly for Damian's liking. He bent his knees and watched Cass run toward him, his hand outstretched and ready for the sled. Bruce watched Damian's competitive streak kick in and grinned. He mirrored Damian and reached his hand toward where Tim would arrive any moment. Cass narrowly beat Tim and Damian tossed the sled down the hill without jumping on it. A second later, he started sprinting after it. "What the hell is he doing?" Jason hollered, nearly doubled over with laughter. "He's running downhill to build up his momentum, Jay. It's a hell of a strategy," Dick replied. "And we didn't say you couldn't do that." Tim collapsed backward into the snow and gasped for air. "I don't buy that this is his first time sledding. No way." "Wish I'd thought of that," Cass said. "I could have beaten you by more than what I did." Tim stuck his tongue out at her and sat up to watch the race. While Damian was over halfway down the hill and somehow still picking up speed, Bruce was gaining on him. But that's when Damian made a crucial mistake. He turned his head to see where Bruce was and the front of his sled shifted to the right. The opposite corner caught the snow and the sled flipped, sending Damian up into the air before coming down hard and rolling down the rest of the hill. He came to stop in a heap against the wooden fence. "Oh my god," Dick muttered. He grabbed a sled and launched himself down the hill. Jason followed close behind on another sled. Bruce rolled off his sled just before he reached the bottom and rushed to Damian's side. "Damian? Can you hear me? Don't move." He ditched his gloves and carefully rolled Damian onto his back, his fingers ghosting over Damian's face. There was blood along his bottom lip, but there were no teeth missing and his tongue was intact. His neck was fine and though he was wearing snow pants and a heavy jacket, his arms and legs appeared to be okay. "Open your eyes, son." Dick and Jason knelt next to Damian and unzipped his coat, checking for injuries. There was no obvious trauma, but they couldn't be sure until they got him back to the house. "Bruce! Should I call for help?" Tim yelled from the top of the hill. "Is he okay?" Damian's eyes fluttered open and he grimaced. Dick held up a hand, signalling to Tim to wait. "What happened?" he asked. "You lost," Jason said. When both Dick and Bruce glared at him, he continued. "You flipped your sled, kiddo, and finished the race without it. Can you tell us what hurts?" "I don't think I hit my head on something, but my neck hurts," he said quietly. I remember looking backward and then I was airborne." Bruce zipped Damian's jacket and fixed his hat so it covered his head. "Can you move your arms and legs? Does any of that hurt?" Damian moved both arms, then both legs. "That's fine. It's just my neck, but it's muscle pain. Nothing serious." Dick helped him sit up and when Damian was ready, Bruce lifted him and carried up back up to the top of the hill. Both Cass and Tim sighed in relief. "Do you want me to carry you back to the house, or do you want to be pulled in a sled?" Bruce asked. He leaned his cheek gently against the top of Damian's head. "This is fine," he replied quietly. "I don't want to move if I don't need to." "Tim?" "Yeah, B?" "Run ahead with Cassandra and have Alfred prep for some x-rays." "Sure thing. C'mon, Cass." They both took off running toward the Manor. With Jason and Dick still at the hill collecting the sleds, it was just Bruce and Damian. "I think I would have won," Damian said. "Had I not turned around, I mean." Bruce's mouth twitched into a smile. "Is that so?" "Yeah. I mean, you made up for some lost time, but I would have won the footrace." Damian felt the rumble of laughter in Bruce's chest before he heard it. "If you insist, kiddo." "Insist? When was the last time you ran a five-minute mile, old man?" Bruce bit his lip for a moment, still smiling. "You hang around Jason too much," he said. "And for your information, it wasn't long ago I was running that fast." "My point exactly. Old man."

A few hours later, after the x-rays came back negative and he was diagnosed with whiplash and some muscle spasms, Damian was cleared to go upstairs and relax. The rest of the family were waiting in the theatre room with blankets, more snacks than Alfred was comfortable with, and an assortment of movies to watch while they waited out the storm. Damian settled in between Dick and Bruce, the pain medication and muscle relaxant making him drowsy. And the ice pack was numbing what pain was left. "What are we watching?" Dick asked. "We have Disney movies, Christmas movies, action movies..." "My vote's for Disney, but you knew that already." Damian piped up from his blanket cocoon. "Tt. You don't get a vote if you're wasting it on Disney, Brown." There was laughter from multiple sources, but Damian was too sleepy to distinguish who was who. "Glad you're okay, squirt," Steph said. "Good to know you didn't break your sense of humor." "How many people for 'Home Alone'?" Dick asked, ignoring their argument completely. Multiple hands went up, only a few stayed down. "'Home Alone' it is, then." As the opening credits rolled, Damian dragged his eyes open long enough to glance stiffly up at both Dick and Bruce. "As soon as my neck has healed enough, I demand a rematch." "If you insist, D." "Alfred will have to clear you first." "I'll do whatever's necessary. But there will be a rematch." Bruce looked down to see Damian drift off to sleep. He removed the ice pack and carefully adjusted Damian's head. "Do you think he would have won, B?" Dick whispered, grinning from ear to ear. "He seems to think he would have." "But what do you think?" "He was in the lead.." "That's not an answer, Bruce." Bruce looked over at Dick and shrugged. "It's the only one you're going to get. Now hush. I want to watch the movie."

"But you've seen this..."

"Dick. Ssssh."

#batfamchristmasstocking2018 #bcs2018 #Damian Wayne #Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Batfam #MizMahlia's Fanfiction