#recognized santa (only his sister); which would

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The meeting of the four revenants

David/Dwayne/Paul/Marko x fem!reader

warning : tiny comfort, war, blood and injury mild, no use of Y/n

Summary : The four vampires from Santa Carla are a group that goes back a long way, but what if you look back…to the century when they themselves got the bite of death and took their first victim?

Info : So this little based on the wonderful hc from @williamprattz I love the gifs and check out the blog also the four posts @misslavenderlady made on the backstory are excellent. Have fun reading ;)

masterlist

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David : The castle of the king great, far under the rule of Henry the eighth a man feared by many for various reasons but especially for the fear of the women at court whether his wives or the highborn ladies who had to stay here as "honor" without the protection of their husband…especially her without a husband.

Sitting in the wooden chair, the dark dress on her body showing that she was grieving even though this protection would not last much longer.

Looking at the fire it disgusted her to imagine how the king could simply force her. ,,Have mercy god i beg you" she murmured praying again and was about to reach for the scriptures when she heard a noise outside.

She saw the footsteps of a man stumbling and someone who seemed to be in pain cautiously approaching the small window and she saw the silhouette of a man on the castle walls below her window. That's Ser David she thought, recognizing the blond hair and dark clothes of the young knight who had recently won the tournament, outstanding leadership skills.

Lifting her dress slightly to get down the stairs faster, she scurried past the torches, trying not to run into the guards, and arrived with difficulty on the castle wall. ,,Ser David," she said anxiously and saw the man, only a year older than her, leaning against the cold, stony castle wall.

His breathing was heavy and yet barely recognizable, his face contorted in pain and confusion, and she let out a startled sound when she saw the blood on his neck.

Before his blue eyes, cold as winter, settled on her, ,,My lady, you startled me…you-you shouldn't be out here at this late hour," he murmured, straightening up with difficulty and threatening to topple over before she supported him, his bloody hand clutching her dress and staining her hand as she slowly propped him to the ground.

,,Don't say that, my David, your wound is that a bite?" she asked, not realizing how close she was to him, how worried she was, her heart beating fast as she tried to call for help…not wanting the man she truly loved to be taken from her.

But just as she was about to rise, he grabbed her hand almost painfully and pulled her back to him, wrapping his bloody hands around her, seeming to press himself against her warm body. ,,One bite was enough" he murmured and she didn't understand was it a bite that had made him so weak?

Was he talking about a beast? Turning her head slightly, she was about to ask him when she was startled to see cold blue eyes looking at her, a mouth hiding sharp fangs and the bite of a revenant, a monster of the night.

Letting his name slip from her lips to plead with him, it was too late as the vampire's teeth bared into her neck more inexperienced than his lord, searching for blood for his victim…for a victim he perhaps hoped to convert out of love so as not to walk alone in infinity, blood staining the moon and the young undead knight disappearing with the highborn lady.

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Dwayne : The year 1650s under the reign of the Habsburg Emperor Ferdinand the third spread of power, conspiracies and marriages. A time of faith a time of faith in monasteries in which, alongside the numerous monks and nuns, there was also a young woman among the holy sisters of faith.

In the cool room behind the thick stone, she lay on her straw bed unconscious and not tired, thinking about the day, the bed, the food, the planting of herbs in the gardens and the reading from the Bible…and him.

Sin in the eyes of the others, but they needed him, the merchant who supplied them with goods they could not get for themselves in the cooler months.

Tall, silent, long black hair and his dark engaging eyes. Thoughts that made her own sin and she pulled the blanket from her body and stood up, still dressed in her dark uniform, to go out.

Wanting to go to bed, wanting to turn to the flowers, wanting to calm down. As she walked out across the hope, she saw behind the clouds that the sun was already rising, a beautiful moment that was interrupted by a crash.

She listened attentively to the sounds coming from the small storeroom where the garden tools, baskets and seeds for the herbs were kept. ,,An animal?" she asked herself and plucked up her courage to go towards it and the closer she got, she heard heavy breathing, pained noises and more noises.

,,God help me," she murmured, making a criss-cross movement before she opened the door and almost screamed when she saw him dart out of the darkness.

His cool hand gripped hers and he pulled her into the storeroom. ,,Dw-Dwayne what are you doing here?" she asked in confusion, smelling something like burning besides earth and stone but no fire seemed to be burning or was it coming from outside.

His dark eyes were on hers, she saw how tense he was when he didn't let go of her. ,,Sorry for breaking in…you shouldn't be here…not with me" he mumbled seeming to want to turn away from her but wincing painfully his shirt which was under his coat as far as she could see seemed burnt, his skin smelled burnt and his face was sore saying more than she needed to know.

,,I'll help you" came faster than it should have, she wanted to pull him out of the room, wanted to heal him, wanted to have him with her but he wouldn't let her instead he pulled her in for a hug she only saw his gaze for a moment but he was full of determination.

She saw in the distance that the sun was slowly rising, it hurt him and she mumbled a ,,Forgive me but I just need this my dear" she felt him almost leaving an apologetic kiss on her neck before her scream echoed in the room as his teeth sank into her neck.

She had invited the devil into the monastery and he had gone out of the sacred halls with her to devour her soul and take her with him to hell.

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Paul : America a land of aspiration, of ideas and innovation, a land of violence and weapons, a land that boomed with the industrial revolution, a land that had dark alleys and corners, a land that was full of dreams, a land of immigrants who came on steamships, a land that was home to everything and everyone.

A land that saw the end of many groups and a land that under high industrialization became something that hardly anyone had seen before. A country that was a home for travelers, a home for a young woman who traveled across the states on the newest train in her own compartment.

A modern train with lights and technology that still seemed new, a train that would take her to her destination, but also a train that was noisy. The noises of the night and the shining kept her awake and she decided to go on a little journey of her own through the train even if she needed the sleep because of her new job as a librarian and yet what did a little walk do?

Leaving her compartment and saying hello to a few waiters and others who were on their way to the bathrooms or returning from the bar in the dining car, she got closer and closer to the end of the train.

The last compartment was the one where the suitcase and luggage, which was too big for the compartment, were already on their way back, when she suddenly heard a rattling and banging noise as if the luggage had fallen over.

Not that it was of any concern to her, but the thought that her books, documents and important files might crumple made her a little nervous.

Putting her hand on the handle, she went into the compartment and saw in the swinging light that not only one suitcase had fallen over, but apparently the entire back row, the row where her suitcase was. ,,Hello? Is anyone there?" she asked into the semi-darkness, hoping that an employee was here to take care of it, otherwise she would have had to fetch one.

But when she noticed a movement among the suitcases, she hurried away. What if someone was under there? hurt? or worse? "Is that someone…please miss," she heard a male voice from under the luggage and she began to remove it as quickly as she could.

She looked underneath and after the perosn could make out the blond tangled hair, she saw the beautiful expression and yet a smile on his lips. ,,Thank you dear miss…you are my savior he said and slowly rose with her help before she could ask what had happened she was startled when she saw the blood on his neck.

,,You're hurt wait here" she said and pulled out her white cloth to stop the bleeding slightly but instead he grabbed her hand and gave her an almost suggestive look through the pain. The worry she had felt turned to fear but that look seemed like something else.

,,That's all right, darling, I just need this," he replied and she felt him snatch the cloth from her hand and pull it towards him, the pain starting from her neck and slowly staining the cloth on the floor with blood.

The unknown traveler disappeared into the darkness and another woman on a train journey to a new land vanished, leaving only the bloody cloth behind.

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

Marko : War and death and suffering are concepts that were part of the everyday life of the population. The soldiers at the front, the suffering starving population, the perishing groups and the nurses and paramedics who lay at the front and in the hospitals. It was a time when people were dying and dying every day.

A time of blood and death, a time when everyone was fighting for their lives and they almost blocked out the screams they could no longer see. The field bed in the medical tent, which was more bad than good, stood on the muddy ground that was only sporadically covered with stone.

They were not completely at the front and yet every moment seemed to be the last, of which the blood on her apron was just one. ,,How much longer can this go on?" she asked herself, as she did every day, and put the medicines back in the boxes, which were already too few, but she had to carry on.

Giving up was not an option, they either had to win and that was the best solution or lose and they were all doomed, but that couldn't happen. However, she wanted to at least get some rest and go to the small compartment with the sisters and lie down on the cot.

Just for a moment, closing her eyes, she heard it…that sound…the sound of pain and suffering. But from whom? An enemy or the ally?

She didn't know and so her hand automatically reached for her first aid bag and took a lamp and, even though she hated it, a pistol. Neither practiced nor ever killed anyone but who knows who it was. She took one last look back and stepped out of the tent, looked around in the dark and saw the person crawling out of one of the trenches.

Holding the lamp in front of her, she saw with some reassurance that it was one of the uniformed Italians. ,,Hold out," she shouted as loudly as she could without raising the alarm and rushed over to the injured man who was on the ground and struggling to regain his strength. ,,Wait here, I'll help you? What happened? Where have you gone?" she asked, turning off the lamp and helping him to lie on the floor as best she could.

But as far as she could see, he only seemed to be injured in the neck, which was dangerous but not necessarily fatal. ,,Thank you my angel," he murmured and even though she knew that for many she was an angel of death or the angel of healing, he wasn't supposed to die, the bite-like injury didn't seem deep enough for that.

,,It's all right, everything will be all right again," she said and turned to her bag to take out the compress and the bandage when she saw him suddenly sit up as if he wasn't in pain, as if he had found something new and that look in his eyes, that look that looked like a hundred things, frightened her.

His hand stopped her from putting the bandage around his neck where the compress should have been. ,,Everything will be all right now," he replied, stifling her protests and questions by biting into her neck and pulling her down into the ditch with him.

In this blood-red night, he only left behind her bag in which the bandage and compress were still missing and were never meant to heal.

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

#the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys dwayne #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #tlb david x reader #tlb dwayne x reader #tlb paul x reader #tlb marko x reader

[starlahuskyz]

Chances - Chapter 1

A TLB fan story

Summary: It's 1988 and Jordan has been alone for a while now. She's tried to escape her past which has forever tied her to Santa Carla, but now has to learn to trust again. She also finds out that her past will always come back to haunt her.

GIF by @hypnoticvamp

This is my first ever fic and most likely one of my only ones. I plan on telling this entire story so stay tuned for updates. BTW I'm not a very good writer but I'm just telling this story for fun. If you don't like oc x canon stories then you are gonna want to avoid this one.

TW// none for now

Chapter 2

Feedback is appreciated ^ ^

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Boardwalk

Summertime only means one thing in Santa Carla, it brings in hordes of new tourists and visitors into this crazy town. And you can expect it to remain that way for the next few months. But amongst all of the people on the boardwalk, there is one individual who walks alone. She isn’t a particularly special individual, not really attractive or ugly, dresses casually but not really normally either. She’s a stranger to most people and seemingly can’t be read by most who pass her. She has one goal in mind and one only, she doesn’t let anyone get in her way as she goes.

Within a few minutes, she’s reached her destination…Max’s Video Store. Looking through the entrance she doesn’t see the owner, “Awesome…” She isn’t a fan of the owner. He always gives her a ‘look’ when she walks in. She makes her visit brief as she sifts through old VHS’s looking frantically for something that catches her eye. 

As she finally finds something, A new presence makes itself known by slamming its hands onto the box she was looking through. She winces as she already knows who it is.

“Before you say anything, please save it” She looks up at them with the most uninterested face she could muster.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything, I was gonna simply admire you from afar…” They said with a snarky yet lovestruck smile. It was Marko…

That curly haired blonde who sported the most complex looking jacket she will ever see and wore black leather chaps. He also had the face of a Greek statue and eyes that she swore could change colors at will. A part of her wanted to feel flattered that he liked her, but at the same time she knew she didn't quite trust him.

“Well I’ll have you know that I’m pretty busy, so you should do yourself a favor and go with your buddies before I let you down again.” She walked towards the counter to pay for the VHS when she heard a new voice.

“Jordan! You didn’t tell us you would be here today! Why didn't you tell us?” A tall lanky blondie who looked like Twisted Sister wrapped his arms around Jordan’s much shorter frame and spun her around much to her dismay. “You guys don't need to know what I'm doing OR where I'm going!" She twisted and writhed in his arms as he simply dangled her over the ground.

Paul kept blabbering while Marko came up to her and simply said, “You said I should go with my buddies, but I already brought them here.”

Jordan finally got herself out of Paul’s arms and slammed cash onto the counter for her VHS. “You can keep the change just please let me get the hell out of here” The lady working the register simply smiled and laughed to herself “I know how you feel.”

“What’s the hurry?” A new voice intervenes. Everyone looks from what they are doing, it’s David.

Jordan could recognize the platinum blonde from anywhere. Walking up to Jordan he puts a rough hand on her shoulder. “You should know they are just excited to spend some time with you.”

“You forget yourself, it’s just Marko who wants to spend time with me. You guys are just third wheeling his sad attempt at flirting with me for god knows how many times. I’m sure he’s wonderful and all but I’d advise you to give him a wake up call.”

Jordan snatches the VHS off of the counter and makes a beeline for the exit before she is blocked by the one brunette of this club of crazies. “Well, you haven’t even given him a chance, so how do you know you don’t like him?” He grabs her shoulders and turns her around to face Marko who is giving her the biggest frown she’s ever seen. “See? You can make that frown turn upside down if you give him the chance to-” 

“What did I tell guys you about coming in here?”

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #david the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #marko the lost boys #oc x canon #tlb oc #tlb jordan

[thetownwecallhome]

TNBC Shower Thought-cloud #5: Sally the Ragdoll

((OOC:

So the sequel book to Nightmare Before Christmas All Hail the Pumpkin Queen, came out this last year and I just gotta make my stance clear now: if you like that book, cool.

I don't. Like, I really don't. To make a long story short, Shea Anshaw's take on Jack and Sally finally getting married ft the revelations that

Sally wasn't actually made by Dr. Finkelstein

Sally is a princess from another world

Sally wax poetic abt awesome girl-boss royalty ((like, human royalty, the kind that commits genocide and apartheid)) being legit and cool and how you shouldn't question it

This newest girl-bossification of Sally is positing the same question the TNBC-critical sphere has been asking for years: is Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas dependent and therefore can't be a good feminist character?

The hyperbole take on her being " her [Sally's] entire purpose is being supportive of Jack, who isn't supportive of her and who doesn't deserve her as a girlfriend "

This isn't a fringe opinion nor is it held only by people I dislike. Lindsay Ellis jokingly told Sally to "get her bachelor's degree" in one of her vids which I am very obviously not butthurt at all by as you can tell, while Hasani Walker made a webcomic where that functionally happens; Sally and Jack break up to work things out individually before they really try it out as a couple.

Just so we're clear, my disagreeing with these two and other creators is NOT meant to be war on people who don't ship SallyxJack, nor is it a roast on people who are critical of Sally/TNBC as a principle.

BUT, when it comes to Sally ((in the film, not the games or spin offs, the film)) being a doormat of a woman who's too good for her man...I disagree.

---First thing's first, My take on Sally is highly influenced by The Nightmare Before Christmas : The Film, the Art, and the Vision which my sister bought years ago. In that book, Carolyn Thompson said this -

While TNBC is the story of the time Jack did a thing and ruined it for everyone, it's Sally who embodies everything the filmmakers want the audience to feel about Jack.

Set up and seen before Jack is even on screen, Sally is a part of the world of Halloween, but also an outsider in it. This gives her the position to see Jack the way the audience does; Just like Sally, we are awed and enamored with Jack when he first pops up, then saddened and sympathetic for him once we realize his plight. Though she's absent from Jack's finding of Christmas Town, she IS there for the town meeting when we the audience (and her) are gushing over his gushing over Christmas. We sense along with Sally Jack's frustration with the town citizens, are saddened to see him pander to them, and can tell he’s not well when committing to his Xmas experiments. Most important of all, Sally recognizes Jack’s Xmas takeover as wrong and wants to stop it, even if she love him. Even without hearing him sing “I bet I could IMPROVE IT TOO” like we do, Sally knows Jack is wrong. Regardless of her care for Jack, visibly, she’s the only one who sees what’s happening with Santa is wrong. Sally tracks him down in order to help Jack, but she’s none the less Santa’s real ally. From everything we know about her, Sally, like the rest of Halloween Town, is not a mean monster and doesn’t like to spread misery ala Oogie Boogie, and she’s not too hopped up on enthusiasm to forget when she’s hurting people like Jack and the town very much are. Sally is the og critical stan. now join me for a tanget-

Interestingly, any other holiday film ((Year without a Santa Claus, Hocus Pocus, Hop)) would make the voice-of-reason audience-surrogate character a peppy human child who's interacting w the holiday characters, but in TNBC, the writers made the surrogate someone who's also a holiday character- Sally. Sally is kind of to TNBC what Nick Calloway is to The Great Gatsby. Yeah, that's a stretch-Nick is of course the narrator and author-stand in for his story where Sally isn't (although, a TNBC narrated by Sally sounds dope as hell, ngl), tho more importantly, while Nick learns along with the reader how cruel and fruitless the American dream Jay believed in actually was,

---Sally is a character who doesn’t have to learn anything. tanget- again

A lot of people have this opinion on Disney heroines like Belle or Ariel, that good characters, female or otherwise, don't necessarily have to learn anything. I could take or leave Belle and Ariel in as far as if they should learn a lesson in their movies. But in my eyes, that character will always be Sally. Sally is a character you wanna aspire to be like and who doesn’t need to learn the lesson of the story. And yes, Sally is also in-love with Jack. You can be extra cynicalsassy and use this to say "TNBC was made to make you feel like you could make out w Jack Skellington" (( I'd like to point out that Nick is all but canonically in love with Jay in GG)) but that's not the point. More importantly...how/why is that a bad thing that Sally is in love? TNBC doesn’t pass any bectal tests. If women always supporting other women is the only mark of feminism ever then I guess, but I mean, what’s wrong if a woman’s inspo and motivation is a man? What’s especially wrong if she’s self aware and tries to battle that man’s influence within the story. How is that "putting up with" or "enabling/excusing/thinking only of Jack". Sally...really doesn't do that...

---Sally has wants, but within the narrative of Nightmare she's just a bit taken back by needs. At the start of the movie what Sally wants, and the reason she says "I know how you feel" to Jack, is to be active.

“I don’t want to BE patient”

“I’m restless, I can’t help it!”

Sally wants to be anything but Finkelstein's cute assistant because SHE knows she's more than that. She wants to be a part of Halloween Town. What's keeping her back is her reluctance to be free, which she finally throws to the wind after seeing Jack's tower from afar, which is why she's so happy throwing herself out the window - that's her 'let it go' moment of actually taking action in her life. The man she loves is evidently doing it -why shouldn't she? Her actual 'need' is to escape from Dr. Finkelste and it’s really not an obstacle, if we're being honest. The balls are all in her court; Fink's at most an irritation to her. She literally came back to his lab just to be sewn up and smile in his face about poisoning him. She can, and does, so often easily escape because she’s NOT perturbed by him. Sally is, at this point in the film, totally in control of her wants and her needs. But then- the plot kicks in and she has her vision. It's then that her real need in the story, the need she recognizes, outweighs her wants, that need being: "omg I gotta stop this undead himbo from hurting himself and other people!" Sally’s #1 goal in the film is NOT to be Jack's gf, it’s just to save him from himself. Jack inspires her, makes her feel good, but she doesn’t let that stop her from seeing things for how they are ABOUT him. Her words in "Sally Song" never read to me as "notice me senpai I wish I was good ENOUGH" self-loathing. If anything her succumbing to “it’s never to become '' about Jack isn’t some “I love you even though you’ll NEVER luff MEEEEE” devotion, but forlorn frustration. “I think it’s not to be '' = Jack’s never gonna change”. It's Sally's lament about how she doesn't believe Jack will ever want her that way because she just knows what kind of person he is*. But that's not the only thing she sings about in this song. Sally has been apart from the crowd and wants to be a part of it, but any joy she’d have in her new independence is kinda sucked up by knowing Jack is gonna get him and possibly the rest of the town killed. She even wonders in her song if she wants to or ever can be really a part of Halloween Town when she clearly can’t do the hype-Jack-up song and dance like the rest of them. Jack evidently treats her like an equal part of the team, but 1) for Jack that's just another citizen he thinks doesn't understand him, and 2) it's participation in a project she knows she doesn't want to be a part of. Real monkey's paw there, Sally!

If there is anything close enough to a lesson for Sally in the film, arguably, it’d be not to underestimate Jack as unable to change. She’s not only validated by the end of the film, she gets to see Jack really bounce back and be the person she loved at the start- and then is taken aback that he not only does this but finally recognizes her affections, her efforts, and her as a person. final tangent:

((I think the make-or-break-you point with Nightmare is a question of whether or not you think Jack learned his lesson. While I think the filmmakers could have really handled that better, especially in “Poor Jack”, I think what they were going for in their own crunch of an ending is Jack falling in love with Sally is his redemption- he finally came around to seeing her and her way. The Film, the Art, and the Vision makes a point of how Sally is far more than Jack’s romantic interest. ))

Being Mr. Cynical again, you could handwave this as just a throw-in from the writers; "actually she IS REALLY important lookit all the things she do!" but I believe in that statement because they believe in that.

--Sally's MO is centered around Jack. Narratively, yes, she exists in compandum to him. But, within the actual story of the film, Jack isn't her soul purpose in life. The fact that she tries to stop him is proof enough of that. 

The argument that Sally is too good and better than the relationship she's in falls apart because Jack and Sally aren't IN a relationship in the film. They hook up at the end -that's not the same as them being together or a couple. The logic of this take is, again, confusing Sally's wants with her needs, and also presuming Jack always loved her and just didn't realize until the end of the story, which is NOT the text of the actual film, that's fan speculation. (( I prefer Jack falling in love with Sally on the spot out of nowhere. It's such a Jack way of doing things...)) I think what convinces people that Sally is “dependent” on Jack or only ever his side-kick is how expanded media treats her as character, as well as her relationship w Jack. In the 2000s, all that mattered for making spin off material of kid’s franchises is keeping the cast recognizable and that means undoing their development if the point of the story is that they change. It happened in every Land Before Time sequel where Cera and Littlefoot have to be the respective team-racist and team-leader, always, ever, all the time; it happened in the Finding Nemo comics set after the movie where writers still made Marlin overprotective of Nemo; it happened to Jack in Kingdom Hearts and Oogie’s Revenge. The writers may want to write an actual story, but it’s easier to just write what the characters are like in the original. SO, Jack HAS to be an oblivious, selfish manchild and can never learn and is also really despondent and prone to abandoning ppl he supposedly cares about. This sucks enough for Jack's character, but I think Sally suffered even worse than him. At that time, media and merch did treat Sally like she was JUST Jack’s love interest. Literally in Oogie’s Revenge's game pamphlet the only disc for her is “she’s sewn her way into Jack’s heart”, like she’s just his side piece and not the woman he ended his movie with who was also a really important character you followed within that movie. We can only repeat what we know from the film so oop!-Jewel’s MIA and Sally has to live with her sexist ex/boss who doesn't even like her.

---While we're here, I'm 100% sure Sally and Dr. Fink’s relationship is not familial. Some fictional mad scientists do love their creations like they were their children (see also: Mad Monster Party, 9, Frankenweenie for animated examples). Not Dr. Fink. While not exactly predatory ((because it's a fricken kids film, ew)) Dr Finkelstein is a sexist old man. He's problematic. Fink made Sally to be his sexy secretary. He's mad because her life doesn’t revolve around him the way he thinks a woman who works for him life should. In the end, he just decided to go and make a copy of himself since he knows now what he wants is to be told how awesome he is. I really don’t vibe some fic authors (and Shea Anshaw's) insistence that they be anything like ‘family’, hence why I made fun of it on this blog.

For all I disagree with between our headcanons, I much prefer Hasani Walker's take on Sally to Long Live the Pumpkin Queen. Hasani went in w good vibes; he made decent takes and criticisms; he made some good art; he did a sweet crossover between stop-motion properties, and MOST importantly, Hasani gave Sally a hat and a cool girl vest. Did Shea Anshaw do that? No!

It feels very at home and on-brand for TNBC that Sally was made from whole cloth as a ragdoll, but is still her own autonomous person by the rest of town and even the leader eventually. Reminds me a lot of the Oz books where the Scarecrow, Jack Pumpkinhead, and Gump are all just possessions but who are seen as people by the heroes, and even made official citizens by the heroes, which they are. What's more Halloweeny than a living-ragdoll-frankenstein woman being co-ruler of everything spoopy, or even just a citizen loved and respected as much as the rest of the town for her own attributes? If that's what you want, and it's what Hasani actually did for her, than give her that. Outside of her purpose within the story that I already mentioned earlier... what about Sally is sexist? So TNBC doesn't pass the bechdel test and Sally's main inspo happens to be her man. Not her soul purpose like in mother!, just her muse, her kin, her dearest friend. Secret of NIMH and Kubo and the Two Strings have female characters whose motives are their men and those characters don't even have first names. I kinda really hate the implication that a woman can't have a male character as a motive ever or else. As a feminist, I agree, women characters should be individuals and not props for the men. The problem to me isn't so much the insistence that a woman be there for support, it's writers crafting a story where certain characters fill more of a role or purpose in cunjunction to another, and when the writer happens to make said character a woman.

Also, since the whole point of LLTPQ was to give Sally her own agency and importance...how is it fair that she HAVE to be a royalty HERSELF in order to be her own person?

Is it because she was made to be a sexy nurse and that's somehow wrong or shameful even though the whole point is it's not her fault? Is it that people would accuse her of “leeching off" Jack just for being in a relationship with him? You know? The thing bad, sexist people do to women and sax workers irl if they have famous boos when they themselves aren't famous? If the only people complaining are those who think Sally is JUST Jack’s sidepiece, why validate those people? Wanting her to have agency within the movie and so giving her different choices as opposed to just INSTANTLY marrying Jack? That's a take I can vibe with because that is true to the nature of what Sally is, which is not just the Mad Scientist's beautiful assistant. By making Sally a "princess all along '', you imply that her even possibly starting from the bottom makes her beneath Jack and she has to rise to be his equal. Sally never had to do this in the original movie. Sally really was the smartest, most in tune person in town.

I talk a big game, of course, but even as my fav character I know I've done Sally wrong too. The "Mothball" comic is one of my biggest regrets from this blog. It's SO badly worded and I think it's a comic that REALLY needed a second opinion. Sally did nothing wrong in that comic, but both it and Jack made her feel like they were both in the wrong. Trying to give Jack and Sally a conflict as a couple was hard and I ended up rehashing some really harmful language, which I didn't want to do for either Sally or Jack. Don't like that comic. My first choice of retype, redraft.

final thoughts?

What people (me, Lindsay, Hasani, Shea, errybody) actually want of Sally is to have her own agency and 'character' apart from Jack. While narratively, yes, Sally functions as being there to endear Jack to the audience, my point is as a character within the narrative-Sally does have her own autonomy apart from him. She is massively independent of him. I know because that's who she is throughout the entire movie. I think it's because we all see she clearly does have her own interests/agency/character beyond that that we're all anxious to get more of that personally from her...which Disney won't do because they're Disney and certain characters can't come as their own especially when they fufilled another character's purpose in the og film.

Anna can't really do anything that isn't tied to Elsa because it's Elsa who's the reason any of Frozen happens at all.

Belle is always only the cheerleader of the Beast because his character arc is what drives the story.

Sally has to always be in toe of Jack because TNBC is Jack's story and she loves Jack.

But, we love Sally.

Give Sally her own limelight. Give her a limelight that isn't compltely making her a different character or demanding she be the same character as Jack.

Let Sally say #$%&

))

#sally the ragdoll #sally the nightmare before christmas #nightmare before christmas #the nightmare before christmas #tnbc analysis #sally skellington #long live the pumpkin queen

[peachblossomdrama]

My Only 12 %. Ep 4 thoughts and predictions

My Only 12% captured my heart at ep 1, but after watching ep 4 I think that this will be a series that sticks with me for a long time. I have so many thoughts about just ep 4, this won’t be organized at all, but I do want to share and see what other people think.

I love Eiw’s realization at the end of ep 4. For the past few episodes and in ep 4, he’s slowly starting to feel that something isn’t quite right between him and Cake, and he’s insecure about it, but he’s not quite sure what it is. Finally, when he watches that movie with his sister, he starts to recognize exactly what it is that’s going on with him. I knew Earth was going to cry in this series, I just didn’t think it’d be so early on. I know that the show has had a slow build, but I really find it quite worth it to have it build up to that point because it feels so realistic and relatable to me. I remember when I first started to realize and understand my own queer identity, and before I knew why I felt the way I felt, I always felt like something just wasn’t quite right, especially with how it shaped my interactions and relationship with other people. Eiw’s been feeling like something isn’t quite right between him and Cake, he’s insecure and feels like he isn’t important to Cake, and he’s not quite sure what to chalk it up to. I’m so excited to see episode 5 to see what he’s going to do after this realization and how it’s going to change his relationship/interactions with Cake. Already, he started to take a step back from Cake a little bit, but I’m not sure what he’s going to do while he’s becoming more conscious of his own feelings. I don’t think he wants to stay away from Cake, but it does hurt to have to navigate unrequited feelings with someone you are very close to.

I also love how Cake isn’t completely oblivious to Eiw pulling away-- at least he thought it was strange that Eiw didn’t want to sleep next to him the second night they were at the camp. Cake really cares for Eiw and I love how frank he is about it with his friend group. He takes care of Eiw and respects his wishes and boundaries. He has a confidence in their relationship that Eiw doesn’t have. I think that Eiw will start to put a little bit of space between them, just to get space from his feelings, and I don’t think Cake is going to fully realize what’s going on until Eiw has put a considerable amount of space them. I’m not sure whether that will happen before or after the time skip, but I am very excited for Cake’s feelings realization.

As for Sand, I really want to trust him. I’m not quite sure about this character yet since he’s not had a lot of screen time, but I really want Eiw to start growing and finding new friends and learning to step out of his comfort zone. I can really relate to Eiw’s insecurity and shyness, and I think that high school me would be able to relate a lot more, so I’m excited to see his growth as a character and I hope that this friendship with Sand will prompt that (I haven’t read the novel so I’m not sure what to expect from his character).

I think My Only 12% is going to tell a really good story. I like the pacing of it, that it’s a bit slow, because it helps us to understand the characters and their relationship. I think the series is going to focus a lot on character growth (which is my favorite type of show) and I’m hopeful that it will have a satisfying (and happy) ending.

I think that if you’re wondering whether to watch the series or not, give it a try. I think a lot of the naysayers just don’t like Earth for whatever reason or want a more dramatic plot, but if you like something realistic, that focuses on character growth and navigating feelings in relationships, then give this a shot. Santa and Earth are doing a fantastic job and it’s easy to fall in love with their characters. I have high expectations from this series and I’m looking forward to seeing the rest of it.

#my only 12% #my only 12 percent #cooheart #santaearth #casey speaks #it's been a while but i haven't had a drama make me feel this way in a long time

[ledenews]

Laurie Labishak: Singing Her Song for a Most Important Audience

“Humankindness”. Nope, not misspelled. Not at all. Looks like a typo, though, right? Think it’s two words? Believe there should be a space between home and kindness, don’t ya? Little spacebar action, perhaps? Well, it really does need to be one word because of the way it flows, and because of what it means. Just ask Laurie Labishak, a local lady who is a daughter, a wife, a mother, a singer, a caregiver, the kindest soul, and an expert in marketing the care necessary for healthy bodies and mindful souls. Simply, Labishak loves and cares and worships and cherishes every touch, sound, breath, sight, taste, and smell every moment of every day. Not most. Every. And that’s because the audience inevitably changes one day and that’s what all the practice is for anyway. See, humankindness. Because of the way it flows and because of what it means. Laurie took advantage of an opportunity to sing to The Lord inside the Basilica of St. Mary of the Angels. What is your most favorite song to sing? As I thought about this question, so many songs come to mind.  One song that I especially love to sing is the Ave Maria.  A couple of years ago, while on a pilgrimage in Italy, I was able to sing this song in a beautiful church, Basilica of St. Mary of the Angels (Basilica di Santa Maria degli Angeli). This is the church where St. Francis studied and also where he died.  There is a beautiful statue of Mary at the front of the church and I was struck by the beauty of it. The acoustics in the church were amazing and there was a such a peace in the space. I was the only one in the church at the time and I couldn't resist the tugging at my heart to sing.  It was simply between me and God.  Not a performance. Just between God and me.    I've had the privilege to sing the Ave Maria at many weddings, Christmas services and funerals over the years.  Each time, the song is very special and sung in Latin it is one of the most beautiful songs I believe ever written. What is the smartest thing a child has ever said to you? "Twirl"!  Years ago, I was talking with a group of young children and the topic of stress came up. Each child was asked "What do you do when you are stressed or overwhelmed?”  This little girl, about 8 years old, looked at me with all seriousness and she said, "I just twirl."  When I asked what she meant, she stood up and began turning round and round in circles. One by one, we all joined in. Twirling, it turns out, is pretty fun and eventually you fall down laughing, and laughter is a great stress reliever.  I've used this "tip" on many occasions throughout my life - it really does work. Why is your favorite photograph your favorite photo? (and please include it if you can) I have a photograph from about 1977 or '78 of my older sister Carrie and me. We won a contest to sing at the Ohio State Fair and we opened for Ronnie Milsap. We thought we were really something in our black satin jumpsuits – which incidentally would be in style today – and our black cowboy hats!  This reminds me of a time when my sister and I sang as the "Wade Sisters".  We loved singing harmony.  I remember we sang “Blowin in the Wind” (that's the only song I remember). Carrie was a junior and I was in 7th grade.  I often wonder what we could have done had there been the singing reality shows back then.   Laurie and his sister, Carrie,, performed as the "Wade Sisters" in the late 1970's at the Ohio State Fair. What do you feel CommonSpirit Health’s main mission is for the Steubenville area? Showing HumanKindness in everything we do.  What is HumanKindness?  It’s acting with respect to one another. It’s listening, not just hearing. It's being available to the most vulnerable. I've heard it said "we're all human," so recognizing that first and maintaining a person's dignity regardless of their circumstances or situation.  Everyone deserves the highest quality of healthcare available and that should be delivered with the highest level of HumanKindness, always. Laurie and her husband, Michael, enjoy touring the Valley to try as many different pizza shops as possible. What is your favorite dinner when eating out with your husband, Michael? Michael and I really enjoy pizza. Almost any kind, but especially Ohio Valley pizza - yes with cold cheese!  We love trying new places and new toppings. We especially like mushrooms on our pizza and the Wellsburg DiCarlo's has the best mushrooms. We also like fried pickles, spears or chips! The Honkytonk Sweethearts - Laurie, Joylene Riggle Garrison, and Alice Ann Rogers - performed throughout the Upper Ohio Valley. Read the full article

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF SAINT CLARE OF MONTEFALCO (Saint Clare of the Cross) The Patron of Heart Diseases and Cardiovascular Problems Feast Day: August 17

In order to put simply, Clare was recognized as an Augustinian rather than a Franciscan.

Clare was born in Montefalco, in Umbria, likely in the year 1268. She was born into a well-to-do family, the daughter of Damiano and Iacopa Vengente. Her father, Damiano, had built a hermitage within the town of Montefalco. Clare's older sister Joan (Giovanna in Italian) and her friend Andreola lived as Franciscan tertiaries in that hermitage as part of the Secular Third Order of St. Francis. In 1274, when Clare was six years of age, the Bishop of Spoleto permitted Joan to receive more sisters, and it was at this time that Clare joined the Third Order of St. Francis (Secular), moving into the hermitage and adopting the Franciscan habit.

In 1278, the community had grown sufficiently large that they had to build a larger hermitage farther from town.

In 1290, Clare, her sister Joan, and their companions sought to enter the monastic life in a more strict sense, and they made application to the Bishop of Spoleto. As the Third Order of St. Francis (Regular) was not yet established, the bishop established their monastery adjacent to the church of Sant'Illuminata in Montefalco according to the Rule of St. Augustine. Clare made her vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and became an Augustinian nun. Her sister Joan was elected as the first abbess, and their small hermitage (built and funded by their father) was dedicated as a monastery. On November 22, 1291, Joan died, after which Clare was elected abbess. She was initially reluctant to accept her position, but did so after the intervention of the Bishop of Spoleto.

1294 was a decisive year in Clare's spiritual life. During the celebration of the Epiphany, after making a general confession in front of all her fellow nuns, she fell into ecstasy and remained in that state for several weeks. Since she was unable even to eat during this period, the other nuns sustained Clare's life by feeding her sugar water. During this time, Clare reported having a vision in which she saw herself being judged in front of God.

Clare also reported having a vision of Jesus dressed as a poor traveler. She described his countenance as being overwhelmed by the weight of the cross and his body as showing signs of fatigue.

During the vision, Clare knelt in front of him, and whilst trying to stop him she asked, 'My Lord, where art Thou going?'

Jesus answered her: 'I have looked all over the world for a strong place where to plant this Cross firmly, and I have not found any.'

After she reached for the cross, making known her desire to help him carry it, He said to her: 'Clare, I have found a place for My cross here. I have finally found someone to whom I can trust Mine cross,' and he implanted it in her heart.

Clare took her belief in this vision seriously. The rest of her years were spent in pain and suffering, yet she continued to joyfully serve as abbess, teacher, mother and spiritual directress of her nuns. While Clare's reputation for holiness and wisdom attracted visitors to the Monastery of the Holy Cross, she proved to be worldly-wise and canny in the way she governed her monastery. She was careful not to disrupt the communal harmony and the necessary day-to-day management of the monastery's domestic affairs.

In 1303, Clare was able to build a church in Montefalco which would not only serve as a chapel for the nuns, but also as a church for the town. The first stone was blessed by the Bishop of Spoleto on June 24, and that day the church was dedicated to the Holy Cross (Santa Croce); the remnant portion of that small church comprises the frescoed Chapel of Santa Croce connected to the larger Santa Chiara in Montefalco.

Clare had served as abbess for sixteen years. By August 1308, she had become so ill that she was bedridden. On August 15, she asked to receive Extreme Unction, and on the next day she sent for her brother to come to the monastery. Clare made her last confession on August 17, and died at about 40 years of age in the convent on August 18.

Immediately following Clare's death her heart was removed from her body, and upon inspection it was reported that symbols of Christ's passion, a crucifix and a scourge, were found within her heart.

Other historians report that an 'autopsy' was conducted and a small crucifix was found in her heart and three gallstones were found in her gallbladder, which were taken as a symbol of the Holy Trinity.

The crucifix reportedly found within Clare's heart is about the size of a thumb. Christ's head leans slightly towards the right arm of the crucifix, and his body is white, except for the 'tiny aperture in the right side which is a livid reddish color.' The scourge and crown of thorns are apparently formed by whitish nerve fibers, and the three nails are formed of a dark fibrous tissue.

The body of Clare is now reduced to bones. A statue of her body is on display to pilgrims in the crypt of the Basilica of St. Clare in Montefalco in a glass sarcophagus; the bones are on display in the rear of the sarcophagus but can only be seen by nuns who have access to the rear of the crypt. Her heart is displayed for veneration at the same church.

The canonization process was initiated in 1328, but it was not until April 13, 1737, that Clare was beatified by Pope Clement XII. On December 8, 1881, the feast of the Immaculate Conception, Pope Leo XIII canonized Clare as Saint Clare of Montefalco at Saint Peter's Basilica in Rome.

#random stuff #catholic #catholic saints #clare of montefalco #clada de montefalco

[jedidiahsioco]

Cosio, et al., vs. Antonino and Jesus Pili

G.R. No. L-3720 February 3, 1908

Case Digest

Facts:

On August 9, 1905, the attorney for Maria Cosio filed a petition requesting that letters of administration for the property of the late Tomas Cosio, a resident of the capital of Laguna who died on the October 1, 1900, in view of the fact that deceased had no ascendants or descendants, but only collateral heirs. The deceased owned real property which consisted of three parcels of land, situated within the territory of Santa Cruz, and two carabaos. By a writing, Elena Cosio, sister to the deceased, stated that she neither could nor did she claim to be heir to her late brother, because the latter left children with his wife, Leocadia Pili, also deceased, said children being named Antonino and Jesus Cosio.

Antonino and Jesus Cosio filed a petition stating that they were the natural sons duly acknowledged and legitimized by subsequent marriage, of Tomas Cosio and Leocadia Pili, and that for said reason the statement of Maria was false, because the petitioners were the only ones entitled to the intestate inheritance of their father. The court rendered a decision on the October 18, 1906, declaring the brothers Antonino and Jesus Cosio to be the sons legitimized by the subsequent marriage of Tomas Cosio with their mother, Leocadia Pili, holding them to be the sole heirs of the said Tomas Cosio, and, as such, entitled to the possession of the property of said deceased.

Issue:

Whether or not the respondents were really natural children of the deceased and would be entitled to inherit his estate.

Held:

Yes. The record shows that Tomas Cosio, complied with the duties of a father in respect to the children had with the latter from the time of their respective and successive births to that of his death; he kept them with the mother in his own house, fed, cared for, and treated them as such children; he introduced them everywhere and to his relatives especially, telling them that he wished them to treat the aforesaid Antonino and Jesus as their relatives, because they were his children. Such conduct on the part of the father unquestionably argues the tacit or implicit recognition demanded by the Law of Toro and the jurisprudence of the courts; the express recognition contained in an official document is then obtained, thus complying with the provisions of Article 131 of the Civil Code; therefore, there can be no question as to the right of the above named brothers, as natural children recognized by their father and later on legitimized by the subsequent marriage of the latter to their mother, to inherit their father's estate.

#judgeprincess #case digest #lspu #persons and family law #juris doctor

[a3r3n]

LONELY HEART || K.DY

Pairing: Doyoung × girl!reader (+ Joy and Taeil)

Genre: angst, a little fluff, arranged marriage!AU, strangers to lovers, kinda slowburn if you squish it

Word Count: 10.2k+ (I know it's a lot and I'm sorry, but hopefully it'll be worth it)

⚠️Warnings: a heated kiss and a morally questionable plot (nothing illegal dw)

A/N: Doyoung is my main source of inspiration when it comes to angst, and I don’t know why. Anyway, it took me a while to write this but I finally did it!!! Hope you enjoy it, though it’s a bit long, and forgive me if there are any mistakes: I always proofread what I write, but I'm sure something slipped away!! Also, if you liked this fic, please consider reblogging it, as Tumblr doesn’t really work on likes, so it would be appreciated if you reblogged it <33

🌼Nct 127 Arranged Marriages!AUs Masterlist

🌼Act I - Act II - Act III

Summary [extract]:

You raise your head and look at him, whose eyes are fixed on the street below you. «Why aren’t you with your friends? It’s your party,» you ask him.

«They all get crazy when they’re drunk, and I’m not really in the mood to support their madness tonight,» he says, grinning. «Taeil is the only one who keeps his cool even when drunk.»

«Why aren’t you in the mood?» [...] Doyoung hesitates before answering your question, letting out a deep sigh. He then looks at you and slowly moves his hand closer to yours until your fingers interlock, making you shiver.

«I’ll get married tomorrow,» he simply says, never breaking eye contact.

«I know.»

«With your sister,» he continues.

«... I know.»

December 24th

Maybe, booking a flight to Seoul on Christmas Eve wasn’t a good idea. The price of the tickets was exorbitant, and you didn’t even manage to fly in first-class since all the seats were unavailable, probably booked by more clever travelers who didn’t wait until the last minute to do so. You can recall telling your mother not to wait for your father to return from his business trip and to leave without him, but there was no way to convince her. Even if your father told her he would join you some days later, she insisted on traveling altogether, which is how you ended up in an airport in a foreign country on December 24th.

The place is packed with people leaving Seoul to spend the holidays somewhere else, or people arriving from their home country just like you and your parents. A man dressed as Santa is entertaining some children who look upset to travel on Christmas Eve while their parents try to cram all the last-minute gifts into the luggage. A group of people walk towards you in a rush, dragging their bags and yelling something in a foreign language - not that you need to understand what they’re saying to know that you should get out of their way. Among all those people, you finally recognize a familiar figure who’s waving her arms to be noticed.

«Joy!» you exclaim, leaving your luggage to your parents to go hug your sister. «I missed you so much,» you say as she squeezes you into her arms.

«I missed you too,» she replies, kissing you on both cheeks. «Oh dear Lord, have you grown taller during these months?» she then asks you, making you roll your eyes: she frequently takes advantage of her height to make fun of you, and you’ll never get used to it.

«I tried, but that ‘dear Lord’ said one giraffe is enough for our family!»

She giggles and walks over to hug your parents, and that’s when you notice the man who had been standing behind her the entire time. He’s tall and slim, with gleaming skin and eyes as dark as the night sky outside. He’s wearing designer clothes, probably even more expensive than the ones your sister owns.

With a simple gesture, he orders two other men to grab all of your luggage bags, and approaches Joy once she’s finished greeting everyone. «Mom, dad, my beloved sister,» she starts off, taking the man next to her by the arm. «He’s Kim Doyoung, my fiance.»

The perks of being born in a wealthy family are many: from getting all the toys you want, to owning four different cars without even having a diver’s license, from attending the most exclusive schools to spending vacations on some renowned island. Even if you believe in higher moral values, you can’t deny you’re lucky to be the daughter of one of your country's wealthiest CEOs.

On the contrary, the disadvantages of having such a rich and powerful man as a parent are almost nonexistent.

Almost.

One of these disadvantages is that your father, like many other businessmen, would do anything for his company. Even if that means involving his own daughters in his projects. And when he found out that his two most powerful partners from abroad had sons your age, he wasted no time in arranging your marriages with them. You didn’t know these men; in fact, you had never even met them before. The only thing you knew was that, on a serene spring day, your father had informed you and your sister about your engagement with these two strangers from South Korea.

Both you and Joy anticipated that moment from the day you were born, thus handled the situation tactfully. Your sister, as the obedient daughter she’d always been and the future heir to your father’s company, did anything she could to meet her future husband’s expectations, preparing to be both the perfect wife and business partner. Not that she needed to, since she knew everything about the business, having spent her whole life by your father’s side.

You, on the other hand, didn’t really care about the company and all the benefits it would take from your union with your fiance. The idea of an arranged marriage had been drilled into your head since you were a toddler, which is why you immediately accepted your fate without even questioning it, but you had other plans for your future. You just hoped your future husband would agree with you.

As a precise and perfectionist woman, your sister had insisted on moving to South Korea way before her wedding to learn the language, understand the culture, and, well, get to know her fiance. From the long late-night calls you two made while she was away, you eventually understood she was falling in love with that charming, mysterious man. But according to her, he didn’t seem to be as fond of her. «I’m sure he likes you,» you once told her, stifling a yawn. «I’ve never met anyone who doesn’t, Joy. You’re… wonderful!»

«I’m sure he likes me, too,» she responded. «I just don’t believe he will ever love me. I don’t see that sparkle in his eyes when he looks at me .»

«Then I’ll set his eyes on fire! Instead of sparkles, he’ll see flames!»

Since you were the youngest daughter, your parents didn’t put as much pressure on your wedding, giving you more time before getting married. That’s why you decided to stay in your country and only spoke with your fiance once on a video call, but nothing more. You wanted to take as much time as possible.

That is, until now.

In fact, arriving in South Korea for your sister’s wedding also means that you will never return home, as you will marry a couple of months after her.

«Nice to meet you,» you greet your future brother-in-law with a handshake and introduce yourself. He does look charming and mysterious. Perhaps a little too much for your taste, but he’s still attractive.

The two men who’d previously taken your bags lead you outside the airport to a private parking lot and open the doors of the most expensive limousine you’ve ever seen. As always, you end up in the window seat, next to your parents and in front of your sister and her fiance.

«How was the flight?» Joy asks, offering you a glass of water from a small refrigerator.

«I’d say it was quite agreeable.»

«Mom, you only say that because you’ve been sleeping the entire time!» you immediately reply, recalling the several hours you spent going back and forth from the toilet because of some heavy turbulence.

«Lucky her! I was so exhausted from my previous flight that I couldn’t even fall asleep!» your dad adds.

«But the flight was quite agreeable,» you scoff, making everyone chuckle.

Well, not everyone.

«Doyoung, dear, I hope our arrival today didn’t ruin your Christmas Eve!» your mom says, changing the topic to catch his attention.

«You didn’t, ma’am. My family doesn’t even celebrate it because we work all day,» he answers flatly.

«You don’t celebrate Christmas Eve… because you work?» you ask him, raising an eyebrow.

«Exactly. We can’t just stop and close everything. It’s not possible.»

«I’m sure it is! You’re the CEO of your company: you can take a couple of days off for yourself – and everyone else!»

«Darling, I’m sure he knows what’s best for his business!» your father says, giving you a warning look.

«No problem, sir,» Doyoung interrupts him. «She probably still has a lot to learn about how our world works.»

«As if,» you scoff, ignoring a soft kick on the leg from your sister. «What if your employees wanted to spend this holiday with their family?»

«Well, they've got tomorrow to do that. Christmas Eve isn't even a holiday, and they have to work,» he replies, never losing his cool, or showing any signs of bother.

«On the contrary: Christmas Eve is a holiday, and some people like to celebrate it! Have you ever considered the idea of asking...»

«Honey, enough,» Joy interrupts you, looking deadly serious. You sigh and decide to focus on the scenery outside the window, trying not to let that conversation influence your first impression of that man.

It’s hard, though.

December 25th

The weather outside is freezing, but the atmosphere in the dining room is quite warm and not only because the heating plant is always on. Both families – yours and your sister’s fiance’s – are seated around the profusely furnished table, waiting for the dessert. The entire lunch was delicious, from the appetizers to the side dishes, and the red wine you all drank helped everyone relax, and you’re now happily chatting away as if you'd known each other for years.

Joy entertained everybody with her lively personality and gentle sense of humor, showing she would be the perfect wife for Doyoung. Unlike him, his parents were very welcoming and seemed to enjoy your family’s company, and this unusual Christmas lunch turned out to be enjoyable. You didn’t talk much, choosing to keep to yourself and listen to whatever conversation piqued your interest. Unfortunately, all the men have been talking about is work, while the women are saying something boring about housekeeping, and that’s why you now find yourself staring at your empty silver glass, absent-mindedly turning it between your fingers.

Suddenly, a long line of maids enters the dining room, carrying large trays full of fruits and any type of pastries that make your mouth water just looking at them. Once everyone’s plate is full, though, the conversation the men were having takes an intriguing turn, and you can’t help but listen this time.

«As I was saying, we were almost abandoning our project when my son discovered this ideal location for our new building!» Doyoung’s father says proudly as he places a hand on his son’s shoulder.

«I can tell your son is completely engaged in this business!» your dad replies. «Where is this location?»

«It’s a large territory just outside of Seoul. It used to be an animal rescue center, but they couldn't keep it going because they didn't have enough money. So they decided to sell it, and we’ve been lucky enough to be the first ones to make an offer. They were desperate for money and would accept any amount,» Doyoung explains. «Actually, they haven’t left yet, but we’re gonna make them vacate soon.»

You hope you didn’t hear that right.

But you did.

And you’ve never been so enraged as you are right now.

«I truly hope this is a joke,» you say bitterly, trying to keep your voice firm and low. The women next to you stop talking, trying to figure out what offended you, while your father glares at you, silently ordering you to remain silent.

«It isn't,» Doyoung answers, his eyes challenging you. «The construction of the building will begin in about a month.»

«You can’t be this selfish and heartless!» you exclaim, forgetting about your intentions to keep calm. «You’re leaving those poor animals to their fate, which I’m sure will not be kind to them! They’ll be abandoned, or worse, end up...»

«Honey, I think that’s enough,» your sister interrupts you, glaring at you in the same way your father did before. «You've got nothing to do with it, and they don’t care about your opinion.»

«I do care,» Doyoung says in a subtle mocking tone, drawing everyone's attention on him. «I’d like to know what she thinks since she seems to be so expert...»

«Oh, but she isn’t, trust me,» Joy replies, smiling at him. «Honey, let it go.»

«So you’re saying you’re okay with this? They’re gonna kill some innocent creatures, and for what?» You look at her in disbelief. When did your sister become so submissive and compliant? She used to be the type of girl who would fight for her opinions, but it seems like she can’t even think with her own head right now.

«It’s their business, and you have no say in it!» your father exclaims abruptly, and you can tell his calm demeanor won’t last much longer if you don’t obey.

«What would you do?» Doyoung asks you, making both your dad and your sister stop talking. His tone of voice and his stare are still mocking, but you can't let him make a fool of you in front of everybody. You have strong opinions and won’t let anyone tell you they’re not valid.

«First and foremost, I would have offered more money,» you begin, ignoring the death stares from your parents and sister. «And then, I wouldn’t have bought that place! Instead, I would have donated the money to help them! There are lives involved in this: it’s not like you’ve bought some desolate land!»

«They’re just animals,» Doyoung replies, making your blood boil. His sarcastic voice, his cold stare, his snobbish attitude… everything about him irritates you greatly.

«Just animals?! They’re living beings, just like us! You can’t...»

«Seriously, stop it now,» your sister interrupts you again. «You’ve expressed your opinion. Be content with it and shut up.»

You refuse to believe what you’ve just heard and look at your sister, hoping to find signs of amusement on her face. But she wasn’t joking, and you suddenly felt a wave of disappointment hitting you. She would always have your back. What happened to her?

Everyone’s eyes are now on you, and the atmosphere in the room becomes tense and heavy until Doyoung breaks the silence. «Don’t worry, Joy,» he says, the mocking tone in his voice never leaving. «She’s still young: it’s okay to have the head in the clouds at her age.»

The conversation goes back to normal, but you still feel an intense heat inside your body, and you don’t know if it’s from embarrassment or anger. You just want to disappear right now.

For a brief moment, you catch Doyoung staring at you with a sly smile on his face. And you wish he would vanish as well.

December 26th

You wrap yourself in the warm coat and look around at the extended but ruined area in front of you. Everything is still covered in snow, with only a few blades of grass poking through, and the cold is so intense that you can feel it penetrating the coat and reaching your bones. A small, colorful house is located in the middle of that vast valley, surrounded by other facilities from which you can clearly hear calls of various animals.

From afar, everything appears to be in the norm. A few people are going back and forth from one building to the other, chatting away while performing their tasks, unaware of the watchful gaze that's been scrutinizing them for the past twenty minutes. Looking closely, though, you couldn't deny that the entire place was in a dreadful state.

When you left the Kims' villa that morning, your sister warned you that the trip would be pointless. «I've already been there, honey,» she said before you stepped into the cab. «It's a waste of time. No one can save that place.» But, being the stubborn girl that you are, you decided to visit that animal rescue center anyway, and after an hour-long drive, you arrived at your destination.

From afar, the landscape looked breathtaking. Looking closer, though, you had to admit your sister was right: that place couldn't be saved. They had a lot of animals to take care of, from stray puppies and kittens to farm animals such as cows and horses, as well as some odd fish and turtles. But, based on what you could see, they didn't seem to have enough space or resources to care for them.

You then exchanged a few words with some of the workers to better understand the situation, and they all seemed broken by the thought of the center's cruel fate. «We will lose our job, which we adore,» one of them said, trying to hide the sadness in his eyes, «and the animals will be either sent to a slaughterhouse, or to some miserable shelters, or abandoned on the streets.»

After another tour of the area that allowed you to interact with some of the animals, you decided you'd had enough, said your goodbyes, and left. However, as soon as you reached the cab, you gave the driver the money he'd asked for and sent him away.

You're not sure why, but you couldn't leave that place yet, and you now find yourself sitting on a frozen bench, wrapped in your coat, watching the center and its workers from afar. It was evident that everyone there genuinely enjoyed what they were doing, and even the animals seemed to have grown fond of the people who had been taking care of them that whole time. How could Mr. Kim and his son be so cynical and destroy everything, depriving those poor creatures of their only hope for a better life? You feel a shred of anger building up at that thought and unconsciously grip the hem of your coat with such strength that your knuckles became as white as the snow surrounding you.

«What on earth are you doing here?» You hear a masculine voice from behind you. When you turn around, you see an apparently irritated Doyoung staring at you while leaning against his car, arms crossed on his chest.

«None of your business,» you reply, turning away from him.

«I hate to disappoint you, but this is my business,» he says, approaching you and then looking towards the same direction your eyes have been following. «Did you go there?» You nod. «Did you see the state of the buildings? The conditions in which those animals are forced to live?» You nod again, not uttering a word. «Do you understand why this place should shut down now?»

You glare at him furiously and shake your head vehemently. «You must be a hideous person if you think that's the best solution,» you state acidly, tightening the grip on the hem of your coat. «You’re going to solve the problem the easy way: getting rid of it when you should be fighting it instead.»

«No one cares about this place anyway. A luxurious apartment complex for people who need somewhere to live would be far more useful, don't you think?» he asks, sitting next to you.

You scoff at his statement, rolling your eyes. «And I bet the people you're talking about are living on the streets right now, aren't they?» you say sarcastically, raising an eyebrow when you hear him snicker.

«Not everything we do must have a socially helpful purpose.»

«But if you have the opportunity to be socially helpful, why not use it?» you reply, bothered by his indifference. «You'd be doing something morally valuable that could help a lot of people and still be loaded – if money is your top priority. Is it so illogical to you?»

A tense silence follows, and you both spend it watching the ruined yet beautiful landscape below you. When you turn to look at him again, he does the same, and you end up locking eyes for a split second before he quickly looks away. «It's not illogical,» he utters, suddenly standing up. «But we would make more money from my project.»

«So it's all about money,» you scoff, crossing both your arms and legs, this time visibly bothered. «Don't you think you've got enough? What's the point of getting richer and richer if you can't use your money to help those who are in need?»

«Does helping others make you that happy?» he asks you back. «Aren't you satisfied with what you have now?»

«I hate using set phrases,» you reply, standing up too. «But material goods don't satisfy my soul. I just can't see the point of being so wealthy if I'm the only one who can enjoy and benefit from that!»

It's now his turn to scoff. «You're just so young. You still need to understand how our society works.»

«I already know how it works, and I don't like it.»

Ignoring your words, he pulls a pair of keys from his pocket and opens the car doors. «I need to speak to one of the managers now. Will you wait for me in the car? It's not gonna take long.»

You nod, putting your pride aside in exchange for a ride home that won't cost you more money.

«Remember,» he suddenly says, calling your name. «This world is for the selfish.»

«This world is for everyone,» you reply, walking to the car.

December 27th

«I think you look stunning,» Joy states as she examines your reflection in the mirror.

«I think I look like a clown,» you mutter.

In your opinion, the dress your sister bought for you was too fancy and inappropriate for the occasion, but she thought otherwise. Despite her busy schedule due to the impending wedding, she made time to take you to an exclusive store that morning and force you to try a dozen articles until you found the one she thought was perfect. It was a navy-blue velvet mermaid dress, with a single thin sleeve covering your left shoulder and a strip of the same color sewn around the waist. The front vent was deep enough to show off your favorite silver shoes that matched the choker Joy made you wear. It’s a big night for your family, and you have to look your best, even if you’re dying on the inside. After all, you don't want to disappoint your future husband, do you?

Even if you’re still unsure about your sister’s choice, you don’t have enough time to get changed, as the guests have already arrived. From your room, you and Joy can hear indistinct voices chattering, and then the door bursts open, revealing an impatient Doyoung dressed in a silky suit that does justice to his tall and slender figure. «Are you ready? I’ve been waiting for you for two hours!»

«I’m sorry, but my sister kept saying she didn’t want her fiance to see her like this, and it took me a while to convince her!» Joy says, combing your hair one last time and adding a pair of sparkly pins on both sides of your head. «But I think she’s simply beautiful. Don’t you agree?» she asks the man standing on the doorstep. You turn to look at him and find yourself holding your breath when you notice he's already been staring at you for quite some time.

«Mh,» he hums, nodding, «but she would look more beautiful if she promised not to make a fuss tonight,» he adds, earning a death stare from you and a chuckle from your sister.

«You know he’s right,» Joy says as she grabs her purse and walks out the door with her fiance. «Or do you wanna make a bad first impression on your future husband and his family?»

You sigh deeply and nod, annoyed. «I promise I won’t say anything that might scandalize their innocent souls,» you say ironically, rolling your eyes. They both grin at your words, and then you all leave the bedroom.

As you walk through the long corridors to join the others, your sister takes Doyoung by the arm and leans her head on his shoulder. That simple action makes you feel something uncomfortable in your stomach, and you wonder if it’s because you ate too many cookies a couple of hours prior, or if you’re simply envious of their relationship. Looking at them, you can clearly tell she’s head over heels for him, and he respects her just as much – not bad for an arranged marriage. Overall, they look happy, and you wish the same for yourself and your future husband. Even if you’re not in love, you hope to be at least happy.

Before your sister opens the door of the royal dining room where Mr. Kim set up the dinner, Doyoung directs his gaze towards you and grins when he catches you staring. You immediately look away, mentally scolding yourself for reasons you don’t even know. That uneasy feeling in your stomach, though, doesn’t go away. If anything, it intensifies.

༄

«Last but not least, we were considering March 21st as the wedding date,» Mr. Moon states in a tone that dismisses any objections. «It’s spring, the weather is nice, and we don’t have any important meetings scheduled for that day.»

«Moreover, you’ll have plenty of time to organize everything, and it won’t be too late for Doyoung and Joy’s honeymoon either!» his wife adds in a much sweeter tone.

You spent the entire evening talking about your sister’s wedding, but you knew the time to talk about yours would come too. Your fiance’s parents asked your opinion on a bunch of things, such as the location of the ceremony and the colors to use, and then proceeded to inform you that they had already chosen almost everything and you only needed to approve it. Not to mention that they all agreed to let the four of you go on a honeymoon together. Your sister seemed excited about it, as did your fiance, while you and Doyoung didn’t look thrilled at the idea, exchanging an unamused look when his father let you know their plan.

«I think March 21st is perfect!» your mother exclaims, clapping. «Don't you agree, honey?» she then asks you with a smile, and you wonder if she truly believes that or if she’s just acting.

«Yeah... I mean, it's cool,» you say with a shrug.

Joy, who's sitting to your left, pinches your thigh beneath the table. «Could you at least try to show a little more excitement?» she scolds you quietly when your parents start talking about something else.

«Those two control freaks have already shown enough for all of us,» you scoff, your gaze fixed on your empty plate, and she can't help but agree. Mr. and Mrs. Moon showed a quite manipulative and controlling attitude throughout the whole dinner, and you'd be lying if you said they didn't scare you a little. Their son, Taeil, on the contrary, seemed to be calm and polite, maybe a little too condescending, and submitted to his parents. He would nod and agree on everything they said, never expressing dissatisfaction or disapproval. Although he didn’t talk much, you could tell he was a nice guy, and attractive too, so you couldn't complain.

«I've heard you've been to the animal rescue center,» a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you realize it's Doyoung's father speaking to you.

«That ruined place we'll demolish soon?» Mr. Moon adds, laughing abruptly. «Did you go there? How did you find it?» he then asks you.

Your sister and her fiance shoot you a glare, silently reminding you of the promise you made earlier, and you sigh. «As you said, it's ruined, and the living conditions of those animals aren't much better. But with enough money, there might be a chance...»

«...to move the animals somewhere else,» Doyoung interrupts you. «There's nothing we can do about the center, but at least we can give those animals a better life.»

You frown, surprised and suspicious, hoping he's telling the truth. When you last talked to him about it, he didn’t seem willing to find a way to save the creatures living in the center. «Really?» you ask him.

«Really?» his father asks at the same time.

«Yes, your daughter helped me come up with this idea, and I find it… interesting,» Doyoung admits, looking at your parents, who are as surprised as you, but for a different reason.

«Our daughter Joy?» they ask, unable to believe that a serious and competent businessman like Doyoung would consider something you suggested.

«No, her,» he replies, pointing at you, and making your parents open their mouths wide. Even your sister is taken aback, mainly because she never saw her fiance accept suggestions for his projects from others. Above all, if those suggestions came out as harsh criticism. And knowing you well, she’s sure you hadn’t been very polite in expressing your views.

«Beautiful and brilliant,» Mr. Moon proudly states as if you were his daughter. «I can’t wait to discuss further details with you someday.»

༄

«I didn’t come up with that idea,» you say, startling the man who’s just come out of the bathroom. It’s almost midnight, every corner of the house is dark and silent, and you secretly sneaked out of your bedroom, hoping Doyoung was awake.

After what he said during the dinner, you couldn’t focus on anything other than finding out if he was telling the truth or just playing with you. You kept wondering what made him change his mind all of a sudden and why he partially lied to everyone in that dining room. Was he just trying to get you to stop talking? Or was he serious about it? Questions like these popped into your head throughout the rest of the evening and kept you distracted, even when Taeil approached you to talk a little, while the others left you alone. You’ve been trying in vain to remember what he said, but your mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

«Are you following me?» Doyoung asks with a smirk.

«No, but I’d like to speak with you.»

«About what?»

«You know it,» you respond, following him to his bedroom.

He sighs, defeated, and stops right in front of his closed door. «You kinda did… come up with that idea, I mean,» he says quietly, scratching the back of his head. «Or rather, you inspired it.»

«And what made you change your mind?»

«You,» he says with a serious look on his face.

«Me?» you ask in a high-pitched tone due to the surprise his answer caused. «Didn’t you say I was just a young girl with her head in the clouds who still had to learn how our society works?»

«I did, and I still believe what I said,» he admits with a grin, and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’. «But I guess I realized your speech about helping others made sense and decided to try to save those animals.»

You unconsciously smile at his words, glad that someone has finally recognized and credited your ideas. «How are you gonna do that? I think a donation would be...»

«Hey, slow down,» he interrupts you, putting his hand on your bare shoulder. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers brush against your skin, and you’re glad you’re in the dark, or he would have certainly noticed your flushed cheeks. «The center will shut down anyway: I’ll only save the animals. I’ve already found some organizations willing to spend significant sums of money on them, and I know some people who wouldn't mind owning a couple of thoroughbreds,» he explains, his hand leaving your shoulder as soon as he finishes speaking.

«And who’s gonna keep all that money?»

«Us, of course. We will use it to cover the costs of some of...»

«Why don’t you give it to the owner of the center? They might use it to find a better place where they can continue to work! Hopefully, it’ll be smaller and with fewer animals, but it could be a new beginning!» you interrupt him, and your voice and the words you say sound so pure in his ears that he has to fight the impulse to hold you tightly and not let go. As soon as that thought crosses his mind, he quickly pushes it away and opens the door behind him.

«Will you ever be satisfied? I told you I’d save the animals!» he says as he walks into his room.

«Apparently, there’s something else you can do,» you chuckle and take a small step back. «But saving the animals will be enough for now.»

You hear him sigh and whisper a ‘goodnight.'

«Goodnight,» you reply. «And thank you.»

Then silence falls on the house again.

December 28th

Lazily lying on the couch, you leaf through the pages of a fashion magazine while your sister and your mother discuss the last details of the ceremony with the wedding planner. It's something involving the wedding registry that has to be redone, but you aren’t interested enough to understand the whole situation.

Doyoung, who is sitting on an armchair in the other corner of the living room, tries to listen to the wedding planner’s words but gets frequently distracted. Looking away from the pages you’re pretending to read, you see him sigh for the umpteenth time, trying to keep his composure and then holding back a yawn. You giggle, but it comes out louder than you meant to. While your sister and your mother ignore you, Doyoung shoots you a glare, to which you reply with a grimace and then go back to your fake reading.

«Who would give a married couple something like… this?!» Joy exclaims with a broken voice, pointing at one of the pictures your mother was looking at. The wedding planner looks mortified and immediately deletes the image from the list.

«Darling, no need to overreact,» your mother calmly says. «If you don’t like something, just say it, and we’ll cross it out.»

Your sister takes a deep sigh, nodding, and you mentally promise yourself you wouldn’t get so stressed while planning your wedding.

Another hour goes by, and you become even more bored than you already were. The three women are still sitting around the table, crossing out or circling the words written on the list, while Doyoung is standing next to an old-fashioned globe now, making it rotate from time to time.

«Is it so difficult?» you ask, putting the magazine away after witnessing another mental breakdown from your sister.

«Of course it is, honey,» your mother answers before Joy can attack you with every insult she knows. «It’s important to choose the right gifts: things you might need in the future, for the house, for your honeymoon...»

«Why don’t you just ask for money?»

«That's not how it works,» Doyoung says, grinning.

«Why not? I would...» you suddenly gasp and stand up when a brilliant idea crosses your mind. «Why don’t you set up a fundraiser? Instead of asking for actual gifts, you could ask people to donate a sum of money, and then give it all to a charity!» you exclaim, proud of your idea, but your sister doesn’t look as excited. At all.

«I’m sorry, honey, but it’s my wedding, and the presents are for me to keep,» Joy says, then immediately corrects herself. «I mean, for us.»

«Then I’ll do it at my wedding,» you state. «If Mr. and Mrs. Control Freaks allow it,» you add, earning a death stare from your mother. You don’t even have the time to sit back down on the couch, though, that another idea pops up in your mind, and you stand up again. «How about I do it and donate the money to that animal rescue center? Do you think it’s possible?» you ask Doyoung, who gets a bit startled from your sudden exclamation.

«It is,» he answers. «I mean, you should speak with the director and see if...»

«Can I, please?» you cut him off. «If it’s possible, I’d like to talk to him immediately!»

«First of all, slow down!» your sister scolds you. «Your wedding is in three months! You'll have plenty of time to think about your stupid donation! Let me finish this in peace now!»

Joy goes back to her list, and you move closer to Doyoung. He sparked something inside you, and now he has to deal with it. «Do you think the director’s free this evening?» you whisper-ask him, not to distract your sister.

«What would I know?»

«Aren’t you in touch with him? Can you find out when he’s available and let me talk to him?» you insist, raising your voice again.

«Doyoung, please, do whatever she wants as long as she keeps that big mouth shut!» your sister cries out on the verge of tears, and you realize you may have exaggerated this time. You sigh and go back to your spot on the couch, choosing not to utter a word until the end of that meeting, when you see Doyoung approach you.

«I'll be at the center tomorrow. You can come if you want,» he whispers to your ear. You nod enthusiastically, and a hundred thousand sparks of happiness burst in your eyes.

December 29th

«What are we gonna do now?» you ask Doyoung, trying to relax.

When you woke up that morning, the sun was shining high in the sky, and the weather was unusually pleasant for a December day. You didn’t complain, though, because you’d be outside all day and needed the weather to be pleasant. When you left, right after lunch, it was still sunny, even if some suspicious clouds started appearing in the sky. But you didn’t give it much importance. Ten minutes later, it started snowing a little. Half an hour later, it started snowing a lot. And now you’re stuck in traffic, unable to continue your drive to the center or return home. You’ve never witnessed a snowstorm before, and you must admit it’s scary. Terrifying.

«The cars are moving too slowly: it’ll take us a lifetime to get to the center,» Doyoung states calmly, without showing any signs of panic or fear.

«Are we gonna come back home then?»

He shakes his head. «We’d have to take a different route, but it’s too dangerous right now.»

«Then what?! I don’t wanna be stuck here forever, or worse, die in a snowstorm!» you exclaim, exasperated.

«You’ll survive,» he simply replies, ignoring your complaints and threats to go out and come back home on foot. Not that you’d have the guts to do it.

Time goes by, the sky darkens, and the sun becomes almost invisible, but the snow keeps falling, and you’ve only moved by a dozen meters. Doyoung had previously turned on the radio in an attempt to distract you, but eventually, even music became too much to bear, and he had to turn it off. Your sister kept calling you to check on you, and every time she did, you could hear your mother crying in the background.

«Now I know where I get my anxiety from,» you joke when Joy calls you for the ninth time in an hour.

Suddenly, the car in front of you starts moving again, and Doyoung interrupts your conversation to tell you that he's thought of a way to avoid both the traffic and the snowstorm. «One of my friend’s hotels should be nearby: if we get to that sign, I can turn right, and we should be there in about fifteen minutes.»

You hear your sister scream with joy on the other end of the phone, but your mother forbids her to hang up until you’re safe and sound at the hotel. You reach the sign Doyoung pointed at in ten minutes, but apparently, you aren't the only ones who considered taking refuge in that hotel, as there was another long line of cars heading in that direction. That's why it took you another hour to get to your destination, and Joy kept you company the entire time.

༄

«You’re lucky: there's only one double bedroom left!» the receptionist states after a quick glance at the computer screen.

«Are you sure there aren’t any single rooms available? I’m Jung Jaehyun’s friend,» Doyoung asks, referring to the friend he mentioned before.

«I’m sorry, sir, but a lot of people came here before you because of the snowstorm. This is the only available room we have.»

«It’s okay,» you say, a slight flush of embarrassment running up your cheeks. «It's better than nothing!»

Doyoung nods and the receptionist hands him the key to your room. As soon as you lock the door behind you, you receive another phone call from your sister and spend twenty minutes explaining the situation to her, accidentally omitting the detail of the room you and her fiance have to share. You don't think it’s inappropriate; you just don’t want her to be more worried.

Doyoung has just finished showering when you hang up, and you rush to the bathroom right away. As you get out of the shower, only wrapped in a towel, you find him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. «I ordered room service,» he says, pointing at a tray on the small table beside the double bed.

«Oh, thank you! I was starving!» you exclaim cheerfully, then turn to look at him. «Don’t you eat?»

He only shakes his head in response, and you shrug, too focused on your empty stomach to care about anything else. After you finish, you set some of the food aside, in case Doyoung gets hungry later, throw away the dirty plastic dishes and sit on the bed next to him.

«You’re getting married in less than two days,» you say, trying to strike up a conversation.

«Right,» he sighs, still staring at the ceiling.

«Joy seems happy,» you continue. «But I’m warning you: if you hurt her, you’re a dead man.»

He chuckles and turns to face you, but his heart skips a beat when his eyes meet yours. «You know, your fundraising idea for the wedding isn’t that bad,» he tells you, changing the topic. «You must be really dedicated to others to do such things.»

«Can I tell you something?» you ask him, and he nods. «I don’t care about my dad’s company. He probably hopes that letting his daughters marry his partners’ sons will give him more control over the business, but I’m afraid that’d be impossible with me. It’s not that I don’t wanna work; I’d rather focus on volunteering and charity work because it’s something that fulfills me. My parents and my sister think I’m a weirdo, though.»

«You are kinda weird,» he says, and you shoot him a glare. «But in a good way. People like us usually only think about money and their businesses, and I’m no exception. But it’s good to know people like you still exist.»

«Like me?»

«Yes. Altruistic, kindhearted, a little naive...»

«I’m not naive!» you exclaim, crossing your arms on your chest and pretending to be hurt.

«Yes, you are! But believe me, it’s not a bad thing.»

«Do you believe my fiance will let me follow my projects? I mean, I’d still do it, but do you think he’ll go along with it?» you ask him after some minutes of silence.

«Probably. Taeil’s the type of person who never contradicts others. I’ve always thought that would only cause him harm, but I guess it could work in your favor.»

«I noticed. He seems to be a nice guy, though. Not the type I would fall in love with, but I don’t dislike him either.»

«Are you okay with marrying someone you don’t love?» Doyoung suddenly asks you, going back to staring at the ceiling.

«The thing is,» you begin, now lying next to him, «I’ve always avoided catching feelings because I knew I'd marry a complete stranger one day.»

«Are you saying you’ve never been in a relationship?»

«Exactly. I never… cared.»

«Does this mean Taeil will be your first… everything?» he asks you, surprised.

«You’re right,» you admit, a little embarrassed. «My first kiss, my first time, and my first wedding too!» you laugh ironically. «I’ll share my first experiences with a stranger, but I’m okay with it as long as we get along, and I’m free to pursue my goals, which involve charity work and volunteering.»

«Love is the most powerful feeling of all and one should experience it in their life, but maybe you’ll live better like that... not even knowing what love feels like.»

You sigh at his words and join him in staring at the ceiling. He was right; you probably don’t even know what love feels like, and you’ve never been even curious to find out until that moment. But then your mind suddenly recalls a quote you read somewhere, something like ‘love comes at a time you never thought it would have.' And you realize you never expected it to happen on a snowy December day, in a hotel room with a man you didn’t even like at first.

«Do you love Joy?» you ask Doyoung, but you don’t need him to speak to find out. After all, your sister had also noticed it.

«She’s a beautiful woman, always high-spirited and lively. She’ll be a good wife, and I’ll be a good husband to her,» he says, maintaining his composure as always.

«But do you love her?» you insist, rolling over to face him. As he feels your gaze on his body, he also turns to look at you, reducing the gap between your faces. Maybe it’s because of his handsome looks or the spicy chicken wings you had for dinner, but your cheeks are on fire… your whole body is.

«I like her very much, and I respect her. Isn’t that sufficient?»

«Indeed,» you agree, nodding. «As long as you don’t hurt her.»

Some time goes by without the two of you speaking, but you don’t look away from each other for even one second. And there it is again, that uncomfortable sensation in your stomach, this time accompanied by an accelerated heartbeat and shaky breathing. His face is serious, almost indifferent, but his eyes betray the attraction he’s feeling for you right now: that strong desire to hold you in his arms and protect you from the world, knowing he’s the only one who can touch you like that...

«Are you tired?» he asks, interrupting the inappropriate stream of thoughts he was having.

«Only a little. Are you?»

He nods. «I’m sorry you didn’t get to talk to the director today.»

«It’s okay,» you say, surprised by his unexpected thoughtfulness. «We'll go another day. Maybe after your wedding.» Your statement reminds him that he’ll be a married man in a few days, with your sister as his wife.

Your sister, not you.

He needs to keep reminding himself of this, or he might give in to some sudden impulse. After all, he’s only known you for a few days and didn’t even like you at first. Now he’s stuck in a hotel room with you – a beautiful girl – while the snow is storming outside. It’s natural to feel some attraction, isn’t it? That doesn’t mean he’s caught feelings or anything.

Then you look at him with your doe eyes, and his limbs weaken.

«Do you want to sleep?» he asks again, and you nod. «There's a light switch there,» he adds, pointing at the wall behind you. When you stand up, you realize the towel is still wrapped around your body. Whatever, you think. At least it’s more comfortable than my clothes.

The room becomes dark, and you stumble a few times before reaching the bed. But as soon as you sit down on the mattress, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you close. Your back touches his chest, your legs intertwine, and his arms wrap you in a tight hug. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your neck, sending shivers up and down your spine. You know it's wrong, but it feels so right you don’t even try to fight back. It makes your head spin and your heart race, and your entire body feels incredibly warm. You don’t know what love feels like, but you guess it might be something close to that. Something too good to be true.

It’s alright, you think before falling asleep, to silence the guilt. Until tomorrow morning, it’ll be fine.

December 30th

You woke up with Doyoung's arms around you and his body against yours. A bit sleepy, you slowly rolled over, carefully watching every move you made, and ended up with your face too close to his, your noses almost touching. He was still sleeping, so you took advantage of that moment to look at him, noting every little detail of his and keeping it safe in your memory. When he began squirming and stretching his arms and legs, you quickly backed away, closing your eyes again, not wanting to be caught staring at him.

But as soon as Doyoung realized you weren't between his arms anymore, he pulled you close again until your face touched his chest, and wrapped you in a tight hug. You knew you'd said you would only allow it until the morning – and the morning had come – but a few more minutes like that wouldn't harm anyone, right?

«I know you're awake,» he said softly, caressing your hair. You wrapped your arm around his waist, hiding your face in his chest to avoid showing your burning cheeks. Your breaths were both shaky and unsteady, frequently interrupted by deep sighs. «It's no longer snowing,» he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

«We should go then.»

«Yeah.»

Yet, neither of you made a move.

But it wasn't long before your sister called, causing you to fully awaken and move away from him. She asked you when you'd come back, and you said you were about to leave the hotel. She then asked if everything was fine, noting that you sounded a little strange, and you answered that you were just tired. As the call ended, you and Doyoung locked eyes for a few more moments before silently agreeing to get changed and leave.

The drive back home was quiet, as neither of you dared utter a word. The streets were accessible, but the landscape surrounding them was covered in snow. So you decided to focus on that fairy-tale-like scenery to get distracted from any other thought.

You arrived home an hour later, and noticed both families were anxiously waiting for you on the porch. Doyoung pulled over next to some other cars, and you waited a few more minutes before definitely leaving. «We should erase this night from our memories,» you suggested, staring down at your feet, unable to look at him in the eyes.

«I agree,» he replied. But when your eyes met for the last time, they screamed at each other that you would never forget it.

You then spent all day assisting your mother with the preparations for Joy's bachelorette party, while she and Doyoung defined the final details of the ceremony. Mr. Kim had reserved an entire club for that night, with one room for your sister and her friends and another for his son and his friends. That way, the couple wouldn't be too far away even on the last night before their wedding.

You did anything you could to keep yourself occupied, mainly because the sense of guilt was killing you, causing your stomach to twist and turn in pain. You couldn't even look at your sister and see how excited she was: it shattered your heart to know she was completely unaware of the intimate moment you and her fiance had shared at the hotel. Even if what hurt you the most wasn't what happened that night, but rather your feelings about it. And you felt even more guilty when you realized they wouldn't go away as morning came.

You and Doyoung, on the other hand, didn't exchange a word the entire day, only letting your eyes meet briefly whenever you crossed paths. You'd lost count of the times you had to pull yourself together after seeing him, resisting the urge to just talk to him or let your hands accidentally touch. The conflict in your mind was torturing you and wouldn't leave you alone, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it.

I’ll try to forget everything tonight, you thought while getting ready for the evening, looking in the mirror and shaming every part of yourself for what you’d done.

And now you're sitting alone around an empty table, watching your sister have fun with her friends. While they’re going wild on the dance floor, too drunk to understand what they’re doing, you’re absorbed in your thoughts, finding it hard to let loose. One of Joy’s friends tries to convince you to join them, but as soon as she approaches you, she's distracted by another girl who tells her she needs to throw up. «I don’t think your fiance will be happy about this,» the first girl says.

«Yuta doesn’t need to know. Now please, Wendy, let’s go to the restroom!» you hear the other mumble as they walk away.

You considered getting drunk too but only finished a couple of drinks before a knot formed in your stomach, and now you’re just a little bit tipsy. The music gets louder and the air thicker, mixing the expensive brand perfumes all the girls are wearing with the sweat caused by their incessant dancing. You suddenly feel dizzy and decide to leave the room for a while to get some fresh air. It’s still eleven, but you can’t wait to go back home and fall asleep.

The high heels you’re wearing and the dizziness caused by the alcohol make you stumble a few times, so you decide to take them off and let your feet free on the cold floor. You find a service entrance that leads to a long balcony and take a deep breath when you finally feel the cold breeze on your skin, as the loud music fades into the background. You lean against the railing, gazing at the gleaming buildings in front of you for a few seconds, before placing your head between your hands and closing your eyes.

«Why aren’t you with the other girls?» you hear a voice ask from behind you, making you experience a little déjà-vu. This time, though, you don’t even need to turn around to know whose voice it is.

«I needed some fresh air: the air inside made me feel dizzy,» you answer, without opening your eyes.

«Are you drunk?» he chuckles, leaning against the railing next to you.

«Just a little tipsy. You?»

«Me too. I never get totally drunk.»

You raise your head and look at him, whose eyes are fixed on the street below you. «Why aren’t you with your friends? It’s your party,» you ask him.

«They all get crazy when they’re drunk, and I’m not really in the mood to support their madness tonight,» he says, grinning. «Taeil is the only one who keeps his cool even when drunk.»

«Why aren’t you in the mood?» You try not to talk about your fiance, feeling a piercing pain only at the thought of him. Doyoung hesitates before answering your question, letting out a deep sigh. He then looks at you and slowly moves his hand closer to yours until your fingers interlock, making you shiver. «I’ll get married tomorrow,» he simply says, never breaking eye contact.

«I know.»

«With your sister,» he continues.

«... I know.»

«I’m not sure if I wanna marry her,» he admits, and you have to look away to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

«You have to,» you say in a whisper.

«I know.»

Despite the music from inside the club and the never-ending noises of Seoul, the space around you is quiet. «It was just one night, and we did nothing… compromising,» you utter, trying to let go of his hand, but he holds it even tighter.

«But I felt something compromising,» he confesses. «Something, a man shouldn’t feel for his future wife’s sister.»

«It meant nothing,» you insist, looking at him with glossy eyes. «We must forget it even happened. I can’t… I can’t do that to Joy. Neither can you.»

He brushes his free hand against your cheek and then runs it through your hair, and you realize you’ve already lost the battle with your rational self and don’t do anything to stop him. He lets go of your hand to reach your waist and pulls you closer, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck. Your fingers cling to his shirt, creasing it slightly. «What did you do to me,» you hear him whisper.

«Promise me that we won't let something like this happen ever again,» you tell him, but your trembling voice contradicts your firm words. «You’ll marry Joy, I’ll marry Taeil, and we’ll forget everything.»

«I promise,» he says with a deep sigh but doesn’t seem ready to let you go just yet, keeping you close to him.

«Joy will make an excellent wife. She’s the most amazing woman I know: you won’t be unhappy with her.»

I’ll be unhappy without you, he thinks.

But it’s something he can’t say out loud.

«Taeil will be a good husband as well,» he tells you instead. «He’s respectful and loving, and I’m sure you… you won't be disappointed in him.»

Then, he pulls away and smiles melancholically. You smile back and approach the door he'd left open. «See you tomorrow,» you say as you wave him off. «We’ll be fine.»

You then walk away, without even bothering to wear your heels, shaken by a rush of chills. The music gets louder as you walk, and the voices become more distinct, but the sudden sound of quick steps drowns out all those noises, making you turn around to see what’s going on. As you do so, though, you get pushed against the wall, Doyoung’s figure hovering over you.

«I won’t be fine,» he mumbles, then grabs your chin and leans over. You look at each other with tender yet lustful eyes for a split second, then he kisses you. You feel shy at first, not knowing what to do or how to move, but his lips encourage you to let yourself go, led by your emotions. You then put your arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes, while his hands grab your hips and pull them closer to his. He gives you a few seconds to catch your breath before trapping you between his arms and kissing you again, only stopping to bite your lips, causing you to let out weak and muffled moans that drive him crazy.

«I won’t be fine,» he repeats, wheezing. Then he cups your cheeks with his hands and gives you one last peck before you hear a door open, forcing you to let go. It’s Taeil, looking for the future groom to take him back inside, as requested by their drunk friends. When your fiance notices your presence, he gets a bit startled but is quick to hide his surprise.

«I’m coming,» Doyoung tells him, turning to you to exchange one last gaze before parting ways.

December 31st

A large crowd has gathered outside the small church when you arrive. Doyoung is already inside with his best men while his parents are in the courtyard, talking with a group of people. You recognize Joy’s friends from the night before, and even if they’re obviously hungover, they still manage to look stunning. You and your parents are the last ones to get there, and immediately inform the guests that the bride is about to arrive, prompting everyone to enter the church and take a seat. You walk to the Kim family pew on the first row, and as soon as you sit, your gaze meets Doyoung’s, who’s standing right in front of the altar.

You hadn’t seen him that morning, too busy getting ready and then helping your sister get dressed, and now your heart’s sinking in front of his glacial yet stunning looks. You smile at him, trying to hide your deep sadness, but he looks away.

Then, the wedding march starts playing, and everyone stands up and turns around to admire your sister’s entrance. She shines like a ray of sunlight, absolutely gorgeous in her regal wedding gown, as white as the snow that covered the valley surrounding that place, and with a long monarch train. You see her radiant smile behind the see-through veil, and you feel a grip on your stomach as she approaches the altar, holding the hand Doyoung offered her.

After that, everything becomes a blur. The priest’s voice sounds like a distant echo in your head, and all the people around you transform into vague figures without names or faces. Your lips are smiling, but your eyes are filled with tears that aren't from happiness. The ceremony lasts about an hour, which you spend fighting the urge to run away and never come back.

She’s your sister, you tell yourself, and he’s her husband.

You love Joy. You truly do. And you would never do anything that could hurt her. That’s why you're desperately trying to push away the bitter grief that’s slowly creeping inside you. You know that what you're feeling is immoral and unfair to her, and your mind has been fighting tooth and nail to stop your heart from craving something you will never have.

Someone you can’t have.

Still, regretful tears leave your eyes the moment the couple makes their vows, and you must bite your lower lip to hide its trembling while your fingers firmly grip the hem of your shawl. And your heart writhes once and for all when you finally hear Doyoung say: «I do.»

©a3r3n All Rights Reserved. Please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works.

#doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung fic #doyoung x reader #nct 127 fic #nct 127 doyoung #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #doyoung fanfic #doyoung x you #doyoung x y/n #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung oneshots #nct 127 #nct romance #nct boyfriend #arranged marriage #Spotify

[theawkwardterrier]

Despite Tumblr trying to thwart me getting into your inbox, I hope that you enjoy this little Steggy Secret Santa delivery, most wonderful @teaandatale​! Wishing you as good an end to 2021 as you can get, and a great start to 2022!! ✨✨✨

Summary: Sometimes a snowstorm can get you exactly where you need to be (even if that isn't the conference you were actually meant to be attending....)

Read on AO3

Steve’s wipers can barely keep up with the snow by the time he spots the lights on the side of the road.

“Thank God,” he mutters, flipping on his turn signal although it’s been more than an hour since he’s seen anyone on the road with him. He guesses everyone else had been smart enough to drive up to the conference early when they saw the weather report - that’s what he would have done if he hadn’t needed to take over a last minute project - or they all just decided to stay home instead, which is likely what he should have done, except that he’d already given his word that he’d attend on behalf of Shield Publishing. So, here he is, out in the middle of the stormy night and still barely halfway to the little college town upstate where the conference is actually being held.

On second thought, he realizes as he steps out of the car and is nearly blown back in by the force of the wind, apparently he wasn’t the only one who’d gotten caught in the weather: the parking lot has one other space filled, the closest one to the door.

At least that will mean that the place must have plenty of rooms open. Squinting through the drive of the blizzard, he can just make out the little hotel’s wooden sign: The Chester Inn.

Even the seconds-long walk from the car has left Steve covered in snow, and he can’t blame the two figures in the lobby for the way they turn and stare at him as he blusters into the quiet warmth.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to subtly brush off the frosty layer; mostly, he ends up with snow stuck to his gloves as well. “Sorry, it’s a mess out there. I was—Uh, I was hoping to get a room for the night.”

“You’re not alone in that,” says a wry, English voice. “But I suspect that you won’t have significantly more success than I’ve been managing.”

And suddenly Steve is unutterably glad for his coat and scarf and hat: in his bundled state, he doesn’t think they’ll notice the blush that’s immediately colored his cheeks as he recognizes who’s standing there.

He clears his throat. “Ms. Carter. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Steve Rogers,” she says, levering up one eyebrow as she recognizes him in return; for once, she actually seems surprised. “No, I don’t suppose you would have. I didn’t expect to be here, after all.”

Seeing Steve standing there is so unexpected that for a moment Peggy can only stare. She’d known that he had been chosen to represent the art department, but certainly hadn’t expected him to stumble into the exact same little roadside inn where she’d been attempting to take refuge. Of all the gin joints, she thinks to herself, half-amused. Then the man behind the counter - he’d reluctantly introduced himself as Phillips, which she assumes is his last name, although he had declined to clarify - clears his throat.

“As I’ve already been saying for the last ten minutes to the most stubborn woman in creation, we don’t have any rooms available, much less for two of you.”

“And as I’ve been saying,” Peggy responds immediately, turning to face him and dive into battle once more, “I don’t need much in the way of amenities. A roof and four walls is all I ask, and this seems to fit the bill quite nicely - although a bed wouldn’t go amiss if it’s available.” Slipping on a smile, she adds, “This is meant to be a hotel, is it not?”

“When the wife gets through actually renovating it, it might be. When the place is half falling down around us and she’s off visiting her sister, it’s a closed hotel.” Mostly to himself, Phillips grumbles, “Next time I want a snack in the middle of the night, I’ll do it in the dark. Maybe then I won’t light up a beacon to bring in the only two people foolish enough to be on the roads during the worst blizzard in twenty years.”

“Come on, now.” Peggy turns to see Steve, his coat draped and dripping over his arm, divested of his scarf and (most unfortunately) his adorable hat as well. His face is flushed, likely from the layers - she can now see that even beneath his coat, he’s wearing a sweater which takes up the blue of his eyes - or the change from cold to warmth. “There’s got to be one room in this place that you can let Ms. Carter have for the night.”

Peggy turns to him, crossing her arms. “And where would you plan on sleeping?”

He looks around the small lobby as if hoping for some sort of bed-related miracle, before gesturing to the loveseat by the enormous, drooping potted fern in the corner. “That’ll be fine for me.”

“It most certainly will not. You wouldn’t even fit on it. Truly, I don’t know how you’re as talented as you are if your spatial skills are so deficient.” Looking once more at the entirely unhelpful man behind the counter, Peggy says firmly, “We’re both adults and can share a room if we have to, and you’ll get double the price for it. Perhaps even quadruple the price, actually, as I’m sure my colleague will insist on paying his share as well.” Steve snaps his mouth shut, looking a bit sheepish. “But you will find us a room for tonight. Our other option is returning back out into this weather, and if you force me to do that, then I shall leave a review which will make your wife quite regret that she left this establishment in your care before she’s even gotten the venture off the ground.”

“She can definitely do that,” Steve appends. “She’s the top editor at our publishing house, and when they were talking about the pen being mightier, Ms. Carter is who they meant. Not that I’d guess she’s any slouch with a sword either.”

Phillips squints at them like they’re giving him a headache, but finally turns toward the board of keys behind himself. “Fine,” he grunts out. “Serve you right if I gave you the rooms we were fumigating Tuesday, or the ones that are empty because the replacement furniture hasn’t come in, or anything on the third floor where the air conditioning is stuck on high. But no, I’ll give you our current best and only habitable room.” He plucks off a key and holds it out to Peggy. “Room 107. Elevator on your left. You’ll have to manage your own bags. Pay up front.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Peggy asks practically, eyeing the key. It isn’t as if she’s going to turn it down, especially after all the bother to get it in the first place, but she’d at least like to be prepared.

“You’ll figure it out,” says Phillips, and Peggy could swear that behind that grizzled mask, he actually wants to laugh.

“I was being honest about not needing amenities,” Ms. Carter remarks dryly. “And I would especially say that I don’t need a sauna, and particularly not to sleep in.”

“I think maybe the sauna would be preferable. At least it would be close to the pool,” Steve responds absently.

He looks over from where he’s fiddling uselessly with the thermostat, which is cheerfully and insistently informing him that it won’t even consider budging from 86 degrees, thanks very much. At least it seems he’s not the only one not meeting with much success: she has gotten to her feet, shaking her head at the exuberantly straining radiator she’d been examining before brushing off the knees of her jeans (he hadn't even known that she owned jeans, only ever seeing her in skirts or business trousers or pretty, swirling dresses) and going over to the window.

“Painted shut?” he guesses based on the small growl she lets out a moment later.

“Of bloody course it is.” He doesn’t really know her well enough to tell right away whether the annoyance in her voice is directed at the situation rather than at him. He hopes it’s the former, and it does seem to be; she turns to him and says, “How irritated would you expect Phillips to be if I simply smashed the glass?”

She sounds as if she’d really do it, even with the wind howling outside like it would wreck the place given the chance, and he grins without being able to help it. “Sorta seemed like irritated was his baseline. I’m not sure you’d like to see what would happen if we broke his window.” He takes a breath, the air more noticeable in his lungs than it’s been in a long time. “Then again, I’m not sure I like being stuck here without at least a breeze, and we can’t all get what we want.”

“Hmm.” She examines the glass for a moment more before sighing. “Well, one night in tropical temperatures likely won’t kill us. Now, if there’s no pool, at least we can take advantage of a cool shower. Would you like to go ahead?”

Immediately he says, “No, you go. I’ll stay here and…” He gropes for something - they’re only staying one night so there’s no need to unpack, Phillips had given an impressive, scoffing “huh!” when they’d asked for the wifi information, and the television has a layer of dust over it that doesn’t bode well.

“I have a book,” he finally says, remembering with unreasonable gratitude the package that had been on his desk when he came back from lunch the forever ago of this afternoon and which he’d shoved into his bag before he left the office. He hasn’t had a chance to open the wrapping paper, but the parcel is book-sized and -shaped and at a publishing house, it's usually a safe bet.

He hopes that whichever of his coworkers got his name in the holiday gift swap picked something halfway decent, because he needs a good distraction from the fact that he’s sharing space with this particular woman, who he’s seen command a room just by stepping into it, who he’s half surprised even knows his name but then it isn’t really surprising at all, considering the sharpness of her mind. Yes, shocking as it might be, he’s currently sharing a room with Peggy Carter, who’s getting ready to go take a shower in their currently shared bathroom.

Also, more than anything, he needs a distraction from the fact that, although Phillips hadn’t bothered to mention it, there’s only the one bed.

“I hope you don’t mind that I took this side,” Peggy says as Steve returns from taking his own shower. She watches him over the top of the book as he towels dry that thick hair of his; she usually sees it neatly parted and combed, complementing his retro checked button-downs with their sleeves neatly cuffed up his forearms, and she likes that quite well already, but there’s a certain vulnerable charm to seeing him this way, mussed and a bit out of sorts.

“It’s fine,” he says from behind the towel, although he hasn’t even actually looked. Then he finishes, glances over, and goes pale and wide-eyed.

“That—It’s not my book,” he says, wincing as she turns the page of Figure Drawing from Classic Nudes.

“Well, I should hope not. It seems to me that an artist of your skill wouldn’t need remediation in this area.”

“I’m not really an artist,” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly and turning back to the bathroom. The room isn’t very large - she can still hear him clearly as he flips the towel onto the rack and switches off the light. “Just a designer.”

“You studied fine art alongside graphic design,” she points out; he comes back just in time for her to see the surprise cross his face. She looks down at the book once more, taking in a Courbet painting, and adds, “And aside from seeing your CV, I’ve seen your work since you started at Shield. I wouldn’t call you just anything.”

Now he blushes, sitting down on the side of the bed, likely harder than he meant to. Pivoting, he pushes himself back so he’s propped up against the headboard just as she is.

“That means a lot, coming from you,” he says. It isn’t false humility or compliment in his voice, or the oily slickness of flirtation, or even shyness, only truth. Warmth flashes through her that has nothing to do with their overheated sleeping quarters.

Nevertheless she says, “What on earth do you mean by that? My specialty is words, not visuals.”

Steve shrugs. “I’ve seen you at work, Ms. Carter. You're the savviest person I've ever met. So really, it means a lot.”

For a blink, she just watches him. Then she says, “You can call me Peggy, you know.” It looks briefly like he is going to protest, but then he only nods. She smiles, but then a thought occurs to her. “What did you mean that the book isn’t yours? It had slipped under the bed by your suitcase.”

His blush is, once again, somewhat delightful as it runs up his neck to glow in his ears too. “I did bring it, only not on purpose. It showed up at my desk today. I wasn’t sure who’d gotten my name in the office gift swap, but now I’ve got the feeling that I was somehow unlucky enough to have Thompson from Subsidiary Rights pick me. He’d think it was funny to give me that sort of thing - he considers me kind of a square.”

“Well, I think he’s something far less appealing than that.” She shuts the book with a snap and sets it on the nightstand. “If you’d like to have him written up for this, I’ll be happy to go to Human Resources with you once we’ve gotten back. Angie Martinelli works down there. She’ll hear you out.”

“No, that’s alright. I appreciate it - I know a lot of folks would just tell me that I can't take a joke or something so it's...Anyway, it's alright. He’s just being obnoxious, and I can take that.” She can see him set his jaw in profile. “But if he starts in on someone else, then we can both stand by them instead.”

She doesn’t know that she entirely agrees with him - she’s already determined that once she gets back into the office, Thompson will be getting as cold a shoulder as she can manage from the editing staff, and see how easy he finds things then - but it’s his decision to make. She nods, and Steve gives her a little smile before shifting himself down so he’s lying on his back, hands resting on his stomach.

“Do you intend to sleep in your trousers?” she asks, raising a cool eyebrow to cover her true incredulity. She’s in a singlet and some luckily packed sleep shorts, although she’d decided to remain covered with a light sheet; the duvet, shoved to the bottom of the bed while he was in the shower, seemed absolutely implausible given the temperature, but it hadn’t exactly seemed appropriate to simply lie with everything on display in front of a casual work acquaintance. His deference to the situation in the form of his white undershirt doesn’t seem nearly enough (she notices that there is already a slight dampness around the collar), and sleeping in khaki down to the ankles strikes her as completely unbearable.

He waves her off. “I’ll be fine. I’m tired enough that I’ll probably pass out in two minutes anyway.”

They haven’t worked together often, and when they do he’s unfailingly polite and cooperative, dependable, a good leader but also good at taking directions. Now she has the feeling that she’s getting a crash course in another aspect of his personality. “Whatever you have on under there, it likely wouldn’t be less modest than if we were to go swimming together,” she points out.”

“And if we ever go swimming together, you might see me in less than this,” he returns. “But for now, I’m just fine.”

It’s impossible for him to be and they both know it, just as she now knows that he likely won’t let himself be convinced out of his overly chivalrous attitude.

“I wouldn’t say that you’re a square. I’d say that you’re too bloody stubborn for your own good,” she tells him archly.

“You have pretty good company in thinking that,” he admits with little shame. “Good night, Ms. Carter.”

“I told you,” she says, leaning over to snap off the light, “to call me Peggy.”

She can hear his grin even in the darkness. “Good night, then, Peggy.”

It really had seemed only sensible that after a full day of work, then tense hours of driving as the weather worsened, and possibly the least restful welcome he’s ever had, Steve would indeed fall asleep right away. Instead he lies there, too conscious of everything: the sweat soaking into the T-shirt on his back and gathering in the crooks of his knees underneath his pants (he really should have taken advantage of the permission to undress a bit more), the still-moaning wind whipping the snow and unfelt chill outside, and Ms. Carter - Peggy - breathing soft and wakeful beside him.

Finally he clears his throat. If they’re both just lying here, it can’t hurt to have a bit more conversation. It seems the less awkward option.

“I thought that Nat was supposed to represent Editorial on the panels,” he says tentatively toward the ceiling. That seems like a good choice of topic: neutral, but also something he’s been wondering about.

There’s a small shifting sound of her body beneath the sheet. “She was meant to, but I got a last minute call asking me to take her place. Apparently she’d come down with something and couldn’t manage it.”

“Strange. I don’t think that Nat’s been sick a day that I’ve known her.”

“I think it was likely a put-on to get out of going,” Peggy says wryly. “Either because she was wise enough to read the weather report and heartless enough not to care what happened to me, or because she didn’t quite feel up to enduring the same six industry questions once again.”

“Oh, you think she’s sick of talking about what she looks for in a manuscript, or what can a straight white guy even do to get published these days?” She laughs at that, a rich little chuckle that reminds him of her red lipstick, although she’d washed off all her makeup earlier.

“Perhaps Natasha knew that it would take someone of my particular expertise to come up with a solution for that.”

“Your particular expertise in kicking in heads if you’re asked about it anymore?”

There’s a somewhat surprised pause and then she laughs again, more freely. “Well, perhaps that sort of display will at least make people too frightened to bring it up, if it doesn’t settle the question once and for all. Or it might only make people think that fewer white women should be in editing if that’s how we’re going to behave. Not that that particular point doesn’t have merit in the other direction.”

The moment of silence that falls between them is warmer than before, and he doesn’t just think it’s anything to do with the thermostat. Then Peggy says, “There’s actually been some discussion of moving me into management. That would certainly make space for someone new, and I’d be able to select my replacement.”

His initial instinct is to congratulate her, but there’s something about her tone, a casualness that seems just the wrong side of too, which stops him. He thinks of the way she walks in every morning - determined, certainly, and confident, but also pleased - and the times he’s passed by her glass-walled office to see her busily taking care of some project with a faint smile on her face. He thinks how he would react if they offered him a similar sort of promotion; there would be the initial honor at being asked, but then the reality would sink in of spending time more on bureaucracy than the projects he most enjoys, and all the more so for Peggy if they’re talking about her moving into Managing Editorial. Pretty much everyone in Design gets to work on the creative part at least a bit, but the managing editors have a significantly different focus than the editorial staff does, even senior editors like Peggy. If she took the job, her workday would become more about the production of the book as an object than the careful shepherding of a text to publication.

“How do you feel about the offer?” he asks instead, rolling his head toward her a bit. He suspects that she can hear the crumple of the pillowcase, but her shadowed silhouette is still facing toward the ceiling.

After a moment she says, “It would certainly give me more of an ability to try to keep Shield on a path I can be proud of - no bidding wars over tell-alls of the purposefully controversial or political memoirs from those too cowardly or amoral to do anything when they had the power to, more than just the token books from writers of color and true campaigns to launch them, a budget to hire fact-checkers instead of just relying on the copy editors to take care of it alongside everything else. And as I said, it would open up space for more diversity in Editorial.”

She’s quiet, and yet he can tell there’s more to say. “But?” he prods gently, knowing that it’s a risk. She could easily tell him that it’s her private business, that they’re just two people who are barely familiar with each other and happen to be sharing a bed, and if she had wanted him to know, she already would have told him. The sweat creeps further over him.

And yet she answers.

“But,” she says, turning her head on her pillow so her gaze meets his, “I also enjoy my job, just as it is. Discovering an exciting new talent, having an active part in a work transforming from good to great - that’s why I originally got into this line of work. And it will be a wrench to leave that behind.”

“Mmm.” He doesn’t really know what the right advice is, and more than that, he knows that she’ll eventually pick the right path for herself, even if she needs to present the options aloud to someone first. He doesn’t take it lightly that she allowed it to be him.

But despite the steady, contemplative silence he meant to leave them in, his stomach has other ideas.

“Goodness,” Peggy says as the entirely audible rumble trails off. Steve can feel his cheeks and the tips of his ears coloring red, even as he can see her beginning to grin in the light peeking through the gap in the curtains. “It seems as if we’d better track down something to help fix that.”

Steve thinks about resisting, telling her that he’ll bear it, turning over onto his side and at least pretending to sleep. But his stomach gives a little squeezing reminder that he hasn’t actually eaten anything for half a day or more, and it won’t exactly make even pretending to sleep easy.

“Well,” he says ruefully, sitting up, “at least it’ll get us out of this room.”

They search briefly through their room - unsurprisingly lacking - and then through the hallways for any sort of complementary snack basket or vending machine.

“I guess I’m out of luck,” Steve says as they head down from the fourth floor, taking the stairs in rhythm. “The couch in the lobby really will be fine for me if you’re afraid I’m going to accidentally take a bite out of you in my sleep.”

He immediately backtracks on the words - “I didn’t—I only meant—” - but she’s just shaking her head. “I missed dinner as well, and I’d prefer that neither of us starve.” She presses her lips together, thinking. “Alright, I’ve an idea.”

The room is just where she’d expected it to be, although not precisely in top condition (barely in middle condition, to be frank). The lights are at least the typical brightness of an industrial kitchen and, scanning around, she easily spots one cupboard left slightly ajar.

“Perhaps it’s not strictly ethical,” she says, walking over to it as Steve waits behind her, “but there isn’t much else to do with the weather still like it is and no other food to be had. We’ll pay him back, but in the meantime, needs must and all that. Now, let’s see what Phillips considers a suitable midnight snack.”

For all that the man seems like he’d prefer to subsist entirely on red meat and would happily tell off anyone hoping for a treat with reminders of the liver and sprouts they ate back in the day and were happy with, his snack cabinet is full of the tastiest, most wonderful junk food. They pick through it, trying to leave as small a footprint as possible, but soon they’ve managed to heat cup noodles for each of them, along with a small stack of Oreos to share for dessert - a seasonal candy cane flavor that she hopes will be replaceable.

“I think I saw a package of jerky in the back if you need some protein to balance things out,” Steve says as they settle themselves cross-legged on the floor in one corner.

She snorts. “You’re welcome to it, and to the Fruit by the Foot as well if you need some vitamins.”

“I usually like mine without six kinds of artificial colors, thanks,” Steve says, tipping her a smile at her through the steam. It’s the sort of comfortable joking remark that she doesn't think he would have lobbed back toward her at the beginning of the evening, and she finds herself quite glad that that’s changed. She finds herself hoping that it won’t go away once they’re back in the office, but if he’s going to draw back into his polite self by morning, she wants to find out all she can about him first.

“Tell me, what made you want to get into the business?” she asks, twirling noodles on her fork.

“Publishing?” He shrugs a bit. “The design position was open, and I needed something practical to do with my degree.” It’s a good enough answer, and certainly true, but she can sense that there’s more; she waits while he looks down at his own noodles, watching his long, deft fingers swirl his fork around. Then he glances back at her and adds, “I was sick a lot as a kid. There were times when a stack of books was the only thing I had for company. I read through half the library, some things twice or more. It’s—I’m really lucky to get to be a part of giving that to someone else who might need to find other worlds, other lives, the way I did, even if it’s my part isn’t even something most people notice.”

The sweet and honest core of him envelops her for a moment. She smiles, but it catches halfway through, because she realizes that his truth is in some ways hers too. In the end, isn’t that truly why she got into the business in particular - to get books into the hands of people who want or need or will be helped by them?

“If I took the managerial position,” she says slowly, “it would be a different experience than what I have now, but not necessarily a bad one, and one which might bring quite a lot of good when it comes down to it. Not to mention that considering they were the ones who approached me, I think I might be able to put together something of a hybrid role; after all, I’m quite good at my current job, and my time management skills are excellent. And if not, well—” She finds herself beginning to smile at him, and picks up an Oreo. “Maria Rambeau seems like she’ll be wonderful as a senior editor, and I’d always have had to leave sometime, even if it was feet first. Better to do it now and have the effect that I can.”

He selects his own biscuit, tapping it lightly against hers in a sort of toast. “It's going to be pretty amazing to get to watch you start on your next step." He doesn't exactly lose his smile then, but directs it downward, watching as his hands twist the Oreo open. "We'll miss you down on the third floor, though."

"I'm sure there will be some who will be glad to see me gone," she says, watching his hands too. A piece of the empty top snaps between his fingers and he pops it into his mouth.

Swallowing, he says, "No one whose word you should care about."

She doesn't say anything for a moment, waiting until he looks back up at her; she knew he would. He's too direct not to.

"I care about your word," she says with deliberation. Her knee is just that much closer to him, and the rest can follow easily.

He smiles, just slightly. "I'll certainly be one of the ones to miss you."

"I'll still be around," she tells him, and without waiting for him to make any sort of reply about how it won't be the same, she continues, tamping down the bit of breathlessness that she feels. "Actually, I was wondering if…I know we’ve never seen each other outside of work before, but I’ve quite enjoyed it so far.”

“You enjoyed all this?” He raises an eyebrow, and if it was anyone else, she’d think they were playing naive to avoid having to let her down directly. As it is, she just decides to come out with it because she's discovering that she doesn't just want the scraps and memories of tonight - she wants much more, and longer, and she'll do what she can to get it.

“When we’re back in the city, I’d like to go out with you.” She’s about to add if you’re comfortable with that, but he’s already answering her.

"Yes," he says hastily. His eyes are wide and lovely and blue. "Yes, I'd like that too."

“Lovely. We’ll—We can arrange something.” She smiles. She can’t help it. “But in the meantime… Steve, would you mind terribly…I'd like to kiss you, if that's alright."

After a staring minute, he edges just closer to her on the kitchen tile. "Yes," he says again. "That would be more than alright."

He holds her with gentle hands, tasting faintly of peppermint and processed chocolate. She wants to find out all the different sorts of ways he might taste.

"If I'd known you'd be happy with this setup, I would have just let you sleep in the kitchen."

Steve squints up from his place on the floor to find Phillips looking down at them with a less than impressed expression. Peggy stirs from her place against Steve's chest, and looks back up at Phillips with what Steve assumes is a similar expression of her own.

"You'll have to advertise this part of the experience better," she says dryly. "We didn't know it was an option straight off."

Steve laughs softly, mostly an exhale against her hair. Phillips glares for a minute, then turns away with a grunt.

"Come on, now. Get up from there and I'll make you two breakfast. The plow's already been by."

Phillips manages some decent bacon and eggs, and Steve's certainly glad to have them. Glad, too, to get to watch Peggy smile around bites of her breakfast, tease Phillips that he might have a future as the inn's cook if not the desk clerk, to get to wrap a tentative arm around her waist as they go back upstairs to gather their things and then come down again. He pats a palm on the wall beside the thermostat on his way out the door, half frustrated, half amused to see that it still displays a reliable 86.

The day is crystalline as they step into it, their cars two frosted bubbles. They toss laughing remarks to each other as they clean them off.

"Oh, how timely," Peggy says drolly, checking her vibrating phone as they finish. "They've canceled the conference. Apparently the weather might be slightly inclement."

"Guess they’re not as adventurous as we are - I didn't notice anything," Steve says solemnly, though he can tell that a lightness is revealing itself along his mouth. He takes in a breath, the air bright in his lungs. "But if we're going to have the day free when we get back to the city...do you maybe want to spend it with me?"

Before he can assure her that there's no pressure for it to be a date now, that it could just be casual or she can say no altogether, especially considering all the time they just spent together, she is stepping forward, snow-covered brush still in hand, as if she can already tell the direction his mind went.

"There's nothing I'd like more," she says, her sincerity growing a bit impish. "What would you say to bringing books we’ve actually chosen to somewhere they’re happy to see us, where we don’t have to pilfer food and the temperature is within a comfortable range?"

"I think that sounds perfect," Steve admits. “Although…this was pretty good too. You enjoyed it, after all, and so did I.” And he smiles back.

#steggysecretsanta #Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #teaandatale #merry happy to you lovely friend - hope you enjoy!!!

[mypoisonedvine]

Pearl Necklace | Lee Bodecker x reader

(sort of an epilogue to the wrong idea, but once again, you don’t really need to read the series to know what’s going on.  in fact, if you read the series but didn’t read any of the epilogue blurbs I did for that then this is gonna be just as random lol)

summary: your husband has a special present to give you this christmas.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut!! (oral m receiving), slapping, a touch of degradation, some housewife kink, discussions of breeding kink, but also some fluff in there first!!

“Santa!” Beatrice and Penny cheered in unison as they tackled Lee dressed in costume.  You had been afraid they would recognize him at first; now you were slightly worried what it meant that they didn’t notice it was their own father behind the fake white beard.

Lee was fully into his character, though, ‘ho ho ho’-ing as he set down his bag of presents to sit down and let the girls jump into his lap on the couch.  

“Did you come all the way from the North Pole?” Beatrice asked curiously, while Penny immediately became distracted by the shiny silver belt buckle resting at his stomach.

“Yes I did,” Lee answered, “just to see you.”  He accented the last word by tapping Beatrice on the nose with his gloved finger, who blushed and giggled.  “You’ve been a good girl this year,” he explained, “which means I have a very important question to ask you: what do you want for Christmas, little miss?”

“I want another sister!” she announced firmly.  Lee had put a little bit of your rouge on (because Santa has rosy cheeks and all), but his cheeks were naturally reddening now.

“You’ll, uh, have to ask your mother about that,” he decided as he cleared his throat.

“Pleeeease Santa?” Beatrice whined.  “It’s what Penny wants too!”

“Is that so?” Lee stammered, turning to Penny who nodded.

“Pwease, Mister Santa?” she concurred.  “We wan’ another sister to pway wif…”

“You two are conspiring with each other now, is that it?  You’re both asking for only one thing?”

They nodded in unison and Lee’s gaze drifted to you.  

“Is that not the sort of thing elves can make at the North Pole?” you asked him with a smirk.

“Not exactly,” he chuckled.  He addressed the girls again, who were waiting impatiently for an answer to their request.  “I’ll see what I can do,” he offered, “but how about you two open the presents I brought you for now instead.”

“Fank you Mister Santa!” Penny beamed, giving him a little hug before crawling to the floor and rifling through the bag of wrapped boxes he’d brought for them.

//

With the girls finally put to bed, you were surprised to see Lee still partially in costume— the beard was gone as he nursed a beer, but he still had on the big red coat and pants, and most noticeably, the hat.

“Girls are asleep,” you informed him as you circled the couch.  He only nodded and patted his knee; you obliged as you dutifully sat on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist, smiling up at you.  You could recognize that glimmer in his eyes from a mile away.  “Have I been a good girl this year?” you asked quietly.   

“Yes,” he whispered, “you’re my perfect girl— such a sweet, obedient little wife, hm?”

You fiddled with the buckle at his waist for a moment, chewing your lip.  “I try to be.”

He just looked up at you silently, moving his tongue inside his cheek like he did when he was thinking about something.  

“Are we gonna give Penny and Bea what they asked for?” you broke the silence, trying to keep your voice neutral though you felt your eyebrow raise of its own accord.

“You know we are,” he grinned.  “We can start tryin’ tomorrow— right now I have another present to give you.”

“What is it?”

“Why don’t we go to the bedroom and I’ll show you?” he offered.

You were trying not to get too excited as he followed you to the bedroom, shutting the door behind the both of you and pulling you into his arms.

“Lee,” you sighed as he started to kiss your neck, making your hands clench and tug at the fuzzy red coat of his costume.  He knew exactly the spot that made your head fall back and your lip catch between your teeth, smiling against your skin as you melted into his embrace so easily.

“Gonna give you your present now, pretty girl,” he whispered against your skin.  “Don’t you think every good wife deserves a pearl necklace?”

“Lee, you’ve already given me three different pearl necklaces,” you remembered as you gestured to your jewelry box.

“Dumb little baby,” he chuckled, making your cheeks burn with embarrassment.  “You’re too innocent for your own good sometimes, princess.  Not that kind of pearl necklace.”

“Wh-what kind do you mean?”

“I mean the kind where I cover those perfect tits of yours in my come.”

You swallowed thickly, your thighs clenching together.  “Oh.”

He only had to look at you now for you to know what he wanted.  You’d memorized his ‘bend over the counter’ look, his ‘hands and knees on the bed’ look, his ‘spread your legs so daddy can get a taste’ look.  You even knew the way his voice changed when he called you from work— a.k.a. the ‘be naked and ready when I get home’ voice.  Every glance was like an instruction, and you knew the stakes if you didn’t follow his instructions: the dreaded ‘I’ll take you on my knee and spank you until you can’t sit for a week’ look.

This, right now, was the ‘choke on my cock’ look.

“You make a very handsome Santa,” you informed him as you lowered to your knees.

“Ya think so?” he pressed.  “You don’t mind that I really can shake my belly like a bowl full’a jelly?”

You giggled at his reference to the old rhyme, shaking your head.  “No, I don’t mind that.”  You made sure he believed you by planting a few kisses on his stomach on your way down.  

The thick velvet of the costume still wasn’t enough to conceal the shape of Lee’s hard cock underneath, making you salivate a bit as you licked your lips and reached under to grab the thick shaft.  Pulling it out, you found the head red and swollen, leaking a drop of precum which you savored as you swiped your tongue over his length.  He smiled down at you, brushing a bit of hair away from your face before gripping it near the scalp, not quite pulling yet but definitely encouraging you to take him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groaned as you closed your lips and sucked, swirling your tongue around the skin, “my good little wife, always getting on her knees for me… take it a little deeper, honey.”

Doing as he’d asked, you felt the tip hit the back of your throat and used your hand to cover the rest.  He groaned a little, his head falling back, and you wanted to smile with pride in yourself but suppressed it since this was hard to do while smiling.  You were getting quite aroused already, unsatiated pleasure burning between your legs and making your back arch slightly.  

He moaned again, a little louder, and you repeated the motion that made him react so strongly.  It worked, and his hips bucked forward into your throat, his hand holding you steady by your hair so you couldn’t pull back.

“You like when I fuck your face, huh, princess?  Like daddy using your pretty little mouth?”

You moaned around him in lieu of a more articulate response, making him move a little more erratically.

“Stroke it faster, baby, I’m already gettin’ close,” he hissed, and you moved your hand over his length furiously along with twisting slightly as the wrist.  “Fuuuuck,” he sighed, “just like that, you’re so fuckin’ perfect, sweetpea.”

You reached down with your free hand to rub yourself through your panties, desperate for some friction on your clit which throbbed and begged for attention, but Lee instantly noticed and slapped your cheek, making you whine.

“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em,” he commanded, using his ‘Sheriff voice’ which only made your need greater as you moaned around him again.  He laughed at your desperation, slapping your face a few more times for good measure before suddenly pulling out and stroking his own cock.  “Open that dress, show me those pretty tits.”

You hastily unbuttoned the front of your dress, biting on your lip as you saw his cock was stained pink from your lipstick.  He always told you that was the best sign of a job well-done.  The second your dress was open you were pushing it off your shoulders, nearly ripping your bra as you popped it open and tossed it aside.  He groaned when your tits bounced free, and you noticed how hard your nipples were already even when they hadn’t been touched at all.

“‘M close,” he grunted, stroking his cock faster as you licked your lips, sighing as you remembered how incredible that cock felt when it was stretching you open and filling you up.  You didn’t get to see him come that often, usually you just felt it, and you always loved how it felt so it was a shame to miss out this time.

“Don’t look so sad, pretty girl, I know you want all this come inside you, don’t you?”  He chuckled condescendingly when you nodded.  “Well don’t worry, princess, tomorrow I’m gonna knock you up so good you’re gonna forget every word that isn’t ‘yes’ and ‘daddy’.”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered.

“Just like that,” he praised.  “Fuck, I’m close— ready for your present, baby?”

“Please, daddy,” you begged, moaning as his come shot in spurts onto your chest.  His face was so gorgeous when he came: flushed red, biting down on his lip, eyes half-lidded and staring right at you as he covered you in his seed.  You felt so dirty as he did it to you, but you loved it— so much, in fact, that you bit down on your lip to keep from getting too loud at the sensation of his hot come painting your tits.

He kept stroking until every drop was on you, sighing as he let go of his softening cock.  “Fuck,” he groaned, “you always look good in the presents I give you.”

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker fic

[harryissuchalittleshit]

Fool For Love

This is my Secret Santa story for @justfinishthis! I love you bestie and I hope this fills your heart with some Christmas cheer!

~

I'm leaving this place behind

And I'm heading out on the road tonight

I'm off for the hinterlands

Way up north to have taught you to stand

Before I commence my ride

I'm asking Lily to be my bride

I know there's another man

But he ain't gonna delay my plans

James stared up at the sky.

It was a beautiful day, clear blue skies, a light breeze, a day meant for flying. The only drawback was the temperature, and the warning of snow that was sure to come. They had been waiting too long for snow, Christmas was so close, winter in full bloom in every aspect.

He was ready for the fresh slate that snow gave England.

He was ready for a new start.

“James?”

James turned his head at the sound of her voice and felt himself smile. Lily stepped out of the dreary old pub and held her hand out to him. He had come early, too early, but every moment, every second he could spend with her, mattered more than anything else.

He saw a forever in her, with her. He saw love and life and family, a home in her arms and a treasure that was her heart, her soul. Lily was everything, she had seen him in his weakest and his worst, and yet, she had chosen him over and over and over again.

They were three for three and nothing was going to change that.

“You’re awfully quiet,” whispered Lily as they held each other close, both for warmth and protection. It may have almost been Christmas, but that didn’t mean they were safe, it didn’t mean there was a break in anything they had been forced into.

“Just…just thinking,” James told her, letting his eyes wander down the street. The Muggle world was just as safe now as the Wizarding world for them, which meant nothing. For some reason people knew they everywhere, they were just as easily recognized by Muggles as they were witches and wizards.

Apparently they just had those kind of faces.

“Alright,” said Lily in a tone that would’ve made James feel bad if he was lying. But it was the truth, he would never lie to her about something as simple as this.

“It’s going to snow soon,” offered James and he watched as Lily tipped her head back to look up at the sky. She was a winter baby, and even though she claimed that she hated the cold, winter and snow brought her to life, more than the sun and the heat of summer. She was meant for ice and snow, the cold.

“Yes,” agreed Lily with a small sigh, and James squeezed her fingers. He loved winter, he loved the snow as much as Lily denied it.

“Come on,” said James, letting go of her hand wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “We have nothing to worry about for the next few days.”

“You say that,” said Lily, and James could hear the ‘but’ in her voice. “But my parents have only heard bad things about you for five years, and my sister-“

“Will love me,” said James, cutting her off. “I got this. Parents love me, siblings love-“

“No,” said Lily, and James stopped, he stopped talking, he stopped walking, he even dropped his arm from around her shoulders. “You don’t get it, James. My family is not like yours, my mum hasn’t been the same since my dad died and Petunia she- she-“

James wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her close, rubbing her back as she sobbed quietly. Losing her dad, James couldn’t imagine, his parents were the only family that he had, and Lily’s parents were pretty much all the family that she had considering the way her sister treated her.

“It’s your first Christmas without him,” whispered James, leaning forward and kissing her forehead. “I promise I won’t make it harder on you, Darling.”

The ring in his pocket suddenly felt much heavier.

~

Read the rest on Ao3!

#james potter #lily evans potter #harry potter #sirius black #remus lupin #my fics #potterversegiftexchange2021

[disneydancepants]

Even MORE Descendants...

I really miss having time to play The Sims. I'm *dying* to be able to create Auradon with the new Create-A-World mod I've been seeing. Which has had me daydreaming about how I'm going to fit the VKs into all my Disney Sims.

I've been toying with the idea of making Audrey the granddaughter of Aurora and Phillip, instead of their daughter. Their child can marry either Tiana's kid or Naveen's little brother, that way I can stay accurate to the original *and* Audrey can still be black (actress Sarah Jeffrey is biracial and identifies as black).

Which brings me to this:

Uhh, that's Princess Aurora in the back, between Queen Leah and Princess Audrey. In fact, a lot of the classic Princesses and Princes have cameos during Ben's coronation (if I remember right, you can also spot Cinderella and Henry Charming, Tiana and Naveen, Aladdin and Jasmine, and Rapunzel and Eugene).

They did overall suuuuch a great job with casting to match the Descendants actors. So why didn't they just make this bit background part match Audrey and Queen Leah? Why couldn't Aurora be black in these movies? Was some Disney executive scared we wouldn't recognize Sleeping Beauty if she wasn't white, in a series that overall did an amazing job adding diversity to the Disney Princess world? I don't get it.

And then there's Jay. I was too busy making jokes about Jafar not being his dad to comment that... Jafar can't be his dad.

I mean, I guess he could. My Aladdin/Jafar's sister joke-theory doesn't hold water though. Actor Booboo Stewart is half Eastern Asian, but he's also part white and Blackfoot. He's not Middle-Eastern at all.

On that note though: I don't think Carlos is supposed to be half Jewish, but Cameron Boyce was in real life. I kinda assume Carlos's dad is Jasper or something.

So Jay's mom could be Eastern Asian or Native American (fun fact I learned: Sarah Jeffrey is also part Native Canadian) and Jafar is still his dad. But the only Disney villains I can think of that fit are Shan Yu and the Huns? So I'm going to tweak my old idea a bit. Maybe Jafar *is* still Jay's uncle, but Jay has no idea. His real parents are Jafar's sister Nasira and Shan Yu. In Genghis Khan fashion, Shan Yu had a crapload of kids on the Isle. Nasira doesn't want to raise a kid, and Jafar needs a Street Rat to help him steal/scavenge stuff for his shop (which is actually a front for him to find another genie or non-evil magic artifact). So Jafar raises his nephew, and Jay never learns the truth. Thoughts?

Apparently CJ Hook *does* have a cameo in the movies, btw! She was confirmed on Twitter to be a part of Uma's crew in the 2nd movie (tweeted by the author of one of the books). I don't have the picture, but there's a blonde girl that Harry taunts towards the end of the "What's My Name" number, and she was confirmed to be CJ!

I think that's her on top of the table, to the left.

I've read a lot of discussions why Iago is sent to the Isle (in the books, apparently) despite going good after the first Aladdin movie. Instead of Descendants ignoring all sequels though... Maybe Beast was just a major hard-ass? Fits his character. Despite anything Iago did after, he still had to pay for his crimes on the Isle of the Lost. I dunno, it works for me...

By this logic, Kronk would have to go there too.

How does the afterlife work in Auradon? Who runs the Underworld since Hades was stripped of his god-hood? If someone is forgotten in Santa Cecilia (I think that's the name of the town in Coco), do they get sent to the Underworld after the leave the Coco afterlife? Mulan has ancestor ghosts: does religion play a part in what happens to you in the afterlife? Does that mean Judge Frollo was tortured by Chernabog and his demons (Fantasia) between his death and resurrection? Is Chernabog sent to the Isle too? Whose magic was so powerful that they were able to strip gods of all their god-ness? Were the Olympians cool with this? Since Jafar's third wish made him a genie instead of a god, that means genies are the most powerful beings. Not sure where I'm going with that last one...

What religion are the priests shown in Arendelle, Corona, and Prince Eric's kingdom? I'm way too involved in worldbuilding my Sims Auradon...

#disney descendants #the descendants #VK #villain kids #disney villains #jafar #audrey #aurora #hades #Harry Hook #CJ Hook #wicked world #rotten to the core

[xninetiestrendx]

9 + 24

9-Enemies to Lovers + 24-Rivalry/Argument Coming to a Head

Ian and Mickey had been the stereotypical rivaling neighbors for the past 3 years they had been living next to each other in their tiny neighborhood.

It was always the little thing that would grind the other’s gears. Mickey would let his brothers park in the way of Ian’s driveway, instead of pulling his trashcan up to his gate he would leave it by the street and let it overflow. Ian would whistle too loudly on his morning jogs when Mickey just wanted to sit on his porch with his coffee. 

So with that it was never a dull moment when these two were in the same vicinity; snarky remarks, cursing, crude gestures. No matter what other neighbors were nearby. The first time Lip saw it firsthand he said that it was obvious flirting and they needed to kiss and makeup. Ian just rolled his eyes, who cares if Mickey was potentially the most attractive man Ian has met in a while. With his dark hair, bright blue eyes, nice arms and butt. He was an asshole.

But the real war would start during Christmastime. 

The first year was when Ian had been living in his house for only a couple months. He had arrived home from a long day at work to see Mickey perched on a ladder, stringing Christmas lights on his roof while there was a large blow-up Santa in a sleigh on his yard.

“Hey neighbor.” He called, snickering when Mickey flinched on his ladder. 

“Christ, man. You trying to kill me?” Mickey turned around to glare at him.

“I didn’t put you on that ladder. Maybe you were just waiting for me to come rescue you when you inevitably fall.” He smirked. “Didn’t think you would be such a big Christmas fan.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t know me. Didn’t have this growing up, and now I get to have the best decorated house next to all these weak ass lights.” 

“Uh huh.” Ian hummed, tongue in cheek, his brain already working a mile a minute. Seems like an invitation. “Alright then, see ya later.” He walked up to his door, getting a middle finger salute in reply. 

That year and every year after Ian made it his goal to best Mickey in the house with the most extravagant decorations. The dent in his bank account and Lip asking him if it was a weird form of roleplay was worth it.

Mickey glared at him, arms crossed and standing just on the edge of where their yards met; the first year as he set up the strings of lights over his yard and house. Winding them up the posts by his door.

And thus began the annual, unofficial decorating competition. 

With each year brought brighter lights, standees, animatronics, syncing lights up to the beat of music; and with each year brought a hoard of people to vote for which house they believed was the best. There was no actual prize; just a boost to the one man’s ego.

And while Ian had been doing a very impressive job, he hadn’t been able to beat Mickey just yet. This year he was determined.

The neighbors, family, and friends were gathered around to watch as he and Mickey plugged in their whole set up. The crowd clapping, oohing and ahhhing over Ian’s display while he looked over to at Mickey confused.

He was bent over, scowling and his brow furrowed at something. A girl Ian recognized as Mickey’s sister from the one time she introduced herself hurried over to talk to him. As he stood up she put her hand on his chest, Ian couldn’t hear what she was saying but her facial expressions were but relaxed. And Mickey, was glowering at Ian his nostrils flaring as he stomped to where he was standing.

Brushing off his sister who tried to push him back he could finally hear her say, “Relax, Mickey. It’s not that big a deal”

“Shut up, Mandy” He turned to Ian, pointing his finger into his chest hard. “You did this. You fucked with my decorations.”

Ian felt his heart pound as he looked down at Mickey. “What? I wouldn’t do that. I haven’t done that before, why would I now?” But he didn’t get to finish speaking before Mickey was stomping away to his backyard, slamming the gate shut.

Ian looked at Mandy with what he was pretty sure was shock and disbelief on his face. She shrugged at him with a small smile, wandering off to join the neighbors for hot chocolate.

After about 5 minutes Ian let himself into Mickey’s backyard. He was sitting on the steps to his door, looking up at the sky and not even making any sign of noticing Ian when he sat down next to him.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear. I’m not that kinda guy”

Mickey sighed, finally looking into Ian’s eyes. “I know you didn’t, sorry. I just get so intense sometimes. Probably a breaker tripped or something.”

“Ehhh you’re probably still gonna win. Even in the dark they look sick.”

Mickey smiled brightly. “I don’t know, man. You really went all out this year. I feel bad for your wallet. Maybe next year we can work together. Then it’ll really be sick.” He nudged Ian’s shoulder with his.

Ian laughed. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anyway, c’mon, they have hot chocolate.” Mickey accepted the hand Ian held out to him to help up. Stopping on the way to the front he opened Mickey’s breaker box. Seeing the light glow and hear the cheers, Mickey smiling at him.

Outside the milled around with the crowd sipping hot cocoa and eating cookies a neighbor brought. He and Mickey stood close, teasing each other and telling other’s about their ideas for their decorations. A few yards away he say Lip and Mickey’s sister talking. He was just about to yell them over when she started skipping over to them with something behind her back.

Mickey raised his eyebrow and she went to stand behind them. “The fuck are you doing weirdo?” She shrugged, smirking. Then standing on her tiptoes, stretching her arm over their heads.

They looked up to see her holding a bit of mistletoe. Mickey rolled his eyes at her. “Rules are rules.” She said smugly. Ian shrugged, looking at him feeling shy.

“I mean I don’t mind…if you don’t that is.” He said, getting flustered. Mickey rolled his eyes again, sighing. Wrapping a hand around the back of Ian’s neck and pulling him in. With warm lips that tasted like hot chocolate, he gave Ian the first of very many sweet kisses.

More Trope Mash-Ups 

#gallavich #gallavich fic #Gallavich fanfic #can you tell I was watching the great christmas light fight when I thought of this #I hope you enjoy

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: None

Word Count: 2682 words

Summary: You have a chat with your soulmate

Prologue

“So, you want some?”

He  takes your stunned silence as no, checking that the crab is fully dead before pulling off a leg and biting the meat inside. His teeth catch the light of the setting sun, glinting white in between chunks of crab.

“So were-”

“Soulmates? Yeah, looks like it.” He, your soulmate, cracks off another leg and begins to chew. You find yourself transfixed watching him, mind reeling with questions. He uses the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers to dig out more meat. You’re not even sure where to begin.

“What do we do know?”

He shrugs, sucking out the last of the crab leg and tossing it aside.

“Dunno, guess this mystery is solved though.” He taps his wrist and you get a closer look at his soulmate mark.

It loosely resembles a human compass, yet alien in it’s design.There’s eight large symbols, none of which you recognize, and the arrow is slightly misshapen before straightening to a point.

“I always assumed my soulmate was in the Atlantic or something, maybe even a selkie. When that thought always drove my ma up the reef.” He sighs, pressing his chin against his palm as he lays against a rock. “Wonder how she’ll take this. Maybe she’ll turn a whole new shade of blue.”

His chuckle is low, rough against your ears, but not entirely unpleasant.

You can see more of his backside as he scoots closer into the tidepool. The first thing you notice is just how big he is, his tail stretching from his hips to the open ocean. The second thing you notice are the defined muscles which stretch and flex along his back.

Okay, what the fuck.

There’s a pressure building in your temples and you think you're beginning to overload. Your fucking soulmates eyes wander, looking nonchalant as can be beforeperking up when he sees another crab. His body slithering away from you to snatch it up snaps you out of shutdown mode.

“Uh, I guess….what’s your name?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his soon to be snack, only humming to acknowledge he even heard you. “I think that’s a good place to start, don’t you?” That at least gets you a chuckle, followed by a tiny crack!

“Cruz, you can call me Cruz.” You make eye contact as he takes a long, languid bite of crab. Your furrow your eyebrows, face unimpressed. He lights up with a mischievous grin.

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” Cruz says, popping the p and breaking open a claw, “But I don’t think you could pronounce my name so…..”

The tension in your jaw tights as he turns away from you once more,humming to himself and letting out a soft “Oh!” as the other leg reveals quite a bit of meat. You rub your brow and sigh.

“My names _____”

“Neat.”

In high school, your mom got the yearbook epithet “biggest social butterfly.” Your dad, however, was barely presentable on picture day and a social circle consisting of the three fellow chess-club members. You were a lot like your dad in many ways.

The conversation, to say the least, seemed to float on the water like a dead fish, and you had no idea how to resuscitate it. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t that missing piece yoru guidance counselor said it would and dammit, it’s kind of pissing you off. You’re pissed off that it’s pissing you off, because when has making first impressions ever been easy for you? Did you think this was going to be different, because what, a stupid mark on your wrist? That has no basis in logic, not even a little bit.

You refuse to dignify any emotions similar to disappointment which begin to well inside you, because it’s ridiculous. You worked hard to get to California, you’ve worked hard your whole damn life, what's stopping you from working now?

“Welp, seems I scared away all the other crabs.” Cruz huffs and places his hands on his...hips? “Been nice chatting _____, but I got dinner to catch.” Cruz looks back at you as he slinks into the water, sending a salute and a wink.

The words bubble up in your chest before you can catch them as he begins to swim away.

“Wait, but, um, I-” Your commands fall clumsily out of your mouth and barely leaves a ripple on the water. Cruz doesn’t turn around.

You feel the heat sizzling up your neck and face as you look at his back. Flashes of him, the arrow, your mom, that stupid guidance counselor paint the inside of your eyelids.

No.

“Will you wait a second!”

The scream barely echoes in the small tidepool, but it’s enough to catch Cruz’s attention. He whips back to you, eyes slightly wide. You realize just how hard you’re breathing.

“I-, just, can you meet me here? Tomorrow?” Cruz's expression stays still, only the slightest bit of confusion crossing his eyes as he raises his brow. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

….

….

“What time….. do you want to meet up?” Cruz looks far less mischievous and much more sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with a clawed hand and looking up at you from under his eyelids.

“How about 5PM?”

Cruz narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ah, right, merman.

“About three hours before sunset. I mean, do you know how long an hour-”

“Yes, I know how long an hour is. I’m not a pup.” Cruz rolls his eyes

Well, the sass returns.

The two of you stay in that position for a little too long. You begin to rub your arms as the cold of the sea breeze and your social anxiety slowly come back to you.

“See you tomorrow, I guess.” With a hesitant nod, his black-blue eyes looking pensive, he submerges. Your breath comes back to you in a wave as your soulmate swims into the open ocean.

The walk back to civilization is a blur, the pounding voice in your head drawing out all other noise yet barely making sense itself.

You’re not sure what you expected of the first meeting with your soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t that.

---------

The next day, Cruz is waiting for you at the tidepool by 4:55 PM, shucking an oyster with one of his claws. He looks up as your feet splash into the tidepool. You wave.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It’s an understatement to say the silence is uncomfortable. You take a beach towel out of your bag and begin to lay it on a large rock. The task helps keep your mind distracted, but you feel Cruz’s eyes burn into your back.

“So, I guess, what are you exactly?” You say, sitting yourself down.

“Merman’s best word I’ve heard you humans use, so that.” Cruz has shifted his focus  back on his oyster, which he then downs with one swallow.

“I see, I see. Are all mer-folk as big as you?” That catches Cruz’s attention. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face as he puffs out his chest.

“Not at all. I’m a Great White and we’re one of the…” Cruz extends his arms art in front of him, flexing his fingers and his biceps in a decidedly braggadocious manner, “bigger species out there.” He finishes his statement with a playful wink. A tiny smile crawls on your face.

Interesting. Male Great Whites are typically around 12 feet, but Cruz is only about 9 feet. I wonder why that is?

“I can see that.” Cruz shifts, ego now lifted, and lays his weight on his right elbow, facing you. “You mentioned a mother, do you have a clan?” Cruz nods.

“Yup. It’s my ma, my dad, my two older sisters, and me. Plus two other families. My ma’s parents were from this reef.”

It’s difficult for you to fight the instinct to whip out your notebook and jot all this down.Your inner scientist screams to pry into the complex social hierarchy and behaviour patterns of this new species. But the more sane part of you knows that would probably be pushing some boundaries.

“Wow, so you’re a true Californian, huh?” Cruz squints his eyes at you. “Uh, that’s where we are. The territory Santa Cruz lies in.”

He gives a low hum, reaching for another oyster  nearby. This movement is far more natural than his earlier show, but you still get a full glimpse of his cut shoulder muscle and tight abdominals. It stirs something in you.

Would he have the swimmer’s V? Okay, stop, focus.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He pries open the oyster, staring at the soft meta inside. “A member of the clan, born and bred.” Cruz brushed the pad of his finger on the shell, his voice holding a quiet bitterness, tinted somber.

Should you comfort him? He’s within touching distance, but the thought of grabbing his hand feels too intimate, soulmate-ship be damned.

Before you can make a move, Cruz throws his head back and gulps down the oyster. He shakes his head and lets out a small “Ah~”, then pushes his short hair back against his skull. Whatever emotion that was there before, it’s gone.

“Where are you from?”

“East Coast, bordering the Atlantic. So you weren’t too far off.”

“Well, I’m not just a pretty face.” Cruz winks at you, but his eye catches a scuttling crab nearby. He gets low in the water, moving slowly to catch it by surprise. You don’t hum the Jaws theme, despite how much you want to.

“No siblings, just me and my parents.” Cruz doesn’t look away, even as he kills the crab.

“Lucky. How big's your clan?” The familiar crack of the shell follows.

“We don’t really,” crack “...have those. Humans can-” crack “We typically live near each other-” crack “but don’t get that-” crack “....close.”

Cruz hums contently, but you can clearly see it’s from the crab and not your one sided conversation. He sucks juice off his fingers. Seems you’ve lost him once again.

I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.

“Have you ever had cooked crab?” Cruz perks immediately, slowly turning back towards you.

Got ‘im.

----------

You return with two warm lobster rolls, a bag of crab legs, and some shrimp scampi. Cruz’s black-blue eyes just peak out of the water, suspicious.

“So these two are lobster, actually, but this,” You shake the crab-bag, “is all crab. I thought I ‘d get you a couple things to sample.”

Cruz’s nose (Is it a nose? There’s a ridge but you’re not sure if the slits count as nostrils. Questions for later.) just breaches the water as you set the crab-bag down and settle on your rock. You grab a couple of legs for yourself before nudging it  closer to him. “Have at it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.” You say midst a large bit of your lobster roll. The whole meal was not cheap, so you decided to indulge in this treat as much as you can. You’ve had a stressful couple of days.

Cruz slowly approaches the plastic, snatching it up quickly before looking inside it. His eyes widen and there's a small smile on his lips as he pulls a long leg out. His smile only grows bigger.

“Oh, also!” You clap, pointing towards the bag and jolting Cruz out of his food-induced joy. “There’s sauce, garlic butter, shit like that in those little plastic containers at the bottom. You dip the crab meat in them.” You take another large bit of lobster roll and hear Cruz break into a crab leg. Cruz gets his mouth ready to take a big bite before pausing. His eyes flit between the lef and the garlic butter, before he slowly pulls the lid off and dips the meat in. Cruz then takes the tiniest bite possible.

His eyes, black as they are, light up. He quickly takes another, larger bite. It’s quite adorable, like a baby trying ice cream for the first time. Cruz devours the leg quickly before snapping into another sauce.

“You like it?” Cruz nods, cheeks stuffed with crab meat as you giggle.

“What kind of craf is fiss?”

“Dungeness. That’s commonly eaten by humans. They’ve got some of the highest meat value and they're all over  the West Coast.” Cruz nods, though you’re not sure he understands parts of your sentence. “They’re also pretty sustainable to fish, although ocean acidity is kinda fucking with their babies. It’s also been fucking with Red King Crabs, which sucks because their only found in like, four places and are so beautiful and also sustainable and-” Cruz has stopped eating and is staring at you. After a big, long breath in you realize how fast you were talking. You feel the what of your blush on the base of your neck. “Sorry, I’ll let you eat. I just...really like crustaceans. A Lot of aquatic animals, but crabs especially are… I’m doing it again. Sorry.” You take a large bite so you won’t have to talk for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact with Cruz. You’re sure your chest and arms are bright red; It’s an embarrassing symptom of when you get too excited.

Cruz just keeps staring at you. Frankly it’s the longest he's looked at you and not a nearby snack. You chew the slowest you possibly can, the brioche bun becoming mush in your mouth, to fill the silence.

You don’t see it, but a small smile widens on his face. He picks at his empty crab shell.

“I think those facts are crab-tastic.”

You immediately choke on a bit of lobster roll, pounding your chest as you sputter between mouthfuls. When your eyes stop watering, you see Cruz has moved closer to you, hand outstretched and a couple inches from resting on your calf. He jerks it back when you look down at him.

“Wow, thanks, but puns aren’t really part of my vocrabulary.” You obnoxiously wink, scrunching up the left side of your face. Cruz laughs. Not a chuckle, but a full, belly laugh.

“Well I find them quite crab-tivating.” A larger laugh bursts from your chest as he mimics your wink and shoots you another big smile.

The sharp teeth are beginning to grow on you, adding to Cruz’s boyish charm. You feel the hot blush in your chest crawl up your neck once more.

Oh fuck.

Cruz reaches for another crab leg but hits the bottom of the bag, a playful pout now on his chin.

“Here, try this next.” You hand him the second lobster roll. “Probably don’t want to get this one wet, it’ll be soggy.” With no hesitation Cruz digs in, perking up once more and going to town. His teeth serate through the bread like butter. Within 4 bites, the entire roll is gone.

“Dang, I’ll make sure to bring some more food next time.”Cruz pauses, mid-lick of the butter on his claws and looks up at you.

“Next time? You want to meet up again?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Well yeah, don’t you?”

Cruz stays quiet, no sassy comment or a sarcastic look. Just staring, mildly shocked.

Your embarrassment bubbles back, screaming you’ve misread this whole situation and the last few minutes. “I mean, we are soulmates. Shouldn’t we meet up again?”

Cruz's eyes narrow as a barrage of thoughts seem to flit across his head. His smile recedes back into a straight line, that little spark leaving his eye.

“Yeah, I guess we have too.” He crinkles up the plastic bag, shoving it against your calves. “See you tomorrow.”

A pit rolls in your stomach as he quickly moves to leave.

Did I say something wrong?

“Uh, I’m actually busy tomorrow. Can we do Thursday-er, 3 days from now?” Cruz nods, not turning around to face you before slipping back into the water and swimming away.

The pit doesn’t leave your stomach, an empty sauce container rolling across the rocky shore.

What just happened?

#my writing #monster romance #reader insert #monster x reader #merman #shark merman #merman x reader