#running is bad enough let alone on a holiday built around food

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve, Eddie, and Robin move into a house in Boston in the 90s. Their neighbors are a nice, older couple who Steve’s pretty sure used to be Olympic runners. Every morning they go for a jog around the city and it’s only a matter of weeks before Steve is joining them. As Thanksgiving approaches, the couple tells Steve about the annual turkey trot the city hosts.

Still new to town, Steve convinces Eddie and Robin that the turkey trot is a fun tradition that they have to attend. Taking the name literally, they agree because they want to see wild turkeys running through the streets of Boston

(“Let them run for their freedom!” Eddie chants.

"It's what they deserve," Robin agrees. ) 

Flash forward to an hour into the festivities, Eddie and Robin are sweating and panting, practically falling over each other. They’re glaring at Steve while trying to keep up with him, muttering that he’s a traitor and how they thought they would see turkeys not be the turkeys. 

At one point Robin shouts at Steve to “Save himself” while Eddie collapses to the floor in a dramatic fit shouting “Leave me here to die.” 

When Steve finishes the race, he has to double back to rescue the fallen "turkeys." As punishment for his scheme, they make him cook and clean the entire feast of dessert and carbs (no turkey in sight) they demand after participating in physical activity. 

The following year, Steve is the only one running while Eddie and Robin cheer him on from the sidelines in awful, homemade turkey outfits. 

#just a little something cute for this dumb holiday #Steve is absolutely a turkey trotter and eddie and robin HATE it #running is bad enough let alone on a holiday built around food #steddie #stobin #steddie ficlet #stobin ficlet #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #robin buckley ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dani writes

[darkwritingsnshit]

Back Home 7/Final

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Please do not read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, noncon, kidnapping, alchol mention, drug mention, death threats, asshole characters.

I absolutely hate the holidays and am not big on my family either so I’ve decided to make that everyone’s problem

The next morning felt like a ton of bricks had been dropped on your whole body. Your mouth was dry and tasted horrible, even opening your eyes hurt. Perhaps the worst part was that you found yourself, once again wrapped up in Steve’s arms, his body heat keeping you comfortable. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid why were you so stupid? Your movement brought a sigh from Steve, his arms tightening around you. You felt incredibly nauseous. Jumping out of bed you ran to the bathroom just in time to get sick. At least your stomach settled. 

You heard footsteps, a glass of water appeared in your peripheral, you took it without a word. 

“You ok, doll?” Steve wasn’t all the way awake yet.

“I’m hungover as shit and I feel like I was hit by a truck, no I’m not ok.” You tried to sound angry but it didn’t quite translate. You sounded bad. 

Steve chuckled, you wondered how he wasn’t hungover. Maybe he hadn’t had as much to drink as you did. 

“I’ll bring you some food, it’ll help.” He let out a yawn.

“I don’t want your help,” you sounded strangled. 

“After last night you’re still going to be a bitch? I thought we put that behind us.” 

“I was high, Steve, I was stupid. You were a mistake.” It felt good to tell him. 

“Mmm, I seem to be a mistake that you keep making, don’t I?” He was always so sure of himself.

“Get, out.” you hardly managed the words.

He did listen, but came back with a plate of breakfast food and more water. 

“I saved you a lecture babe, your mom was pissed until she saw that I stayed the night.” Steve sounded so smug.

“Go awayyyyyyy!” You groaned out, resting your cheek on the cool tile of the bathroom floor. You knew it was disgusting but you were in too much pain to care. 

“Whatever, be miserable.”  Steve left you to your anguish and disappeared downstairs. 

-

What the hell was wrong with you? You were sitting in the bathtub, cool water running over your skin. Eyes closed tight, the night replaying in your head was almost as bad as your headache. Not only had you slept with Steve again, you had unwittingly taken drugs. And it wasn’t even his fault. No, you had been the one to get too drunk, you were the one who stole the drink from Steve’s hand, you were the one who had taken him up on the offer to get you alone. You begged Steve last night, that thought alone almost made you sick again. 

Letting the hot tears wash down the drain you sat with your arms around your legs, crying. You were better than this, stronger. You were independent, built your own life by yourself, got away from everyone here. But did it matter? You were back in your childhood bedroom, feeling the same hurt and pain, the manipulation and lies as when you were a teenager. 

For too long you sat under the water, questioning every decision you made since leaving New York years ago. When you were out of tears, you remembered exactly how much you missed your own home, far away from there. It was your life, Christmas was done and so were you. You were going home. 

Toweling yourself dry, you picked the comfiest clothes in the closet and gulped down some ibuprofen before going downstairs to see if your stomach could handle anything solid. 

“Mom, I need to go home,” you found her in the dining room. You had to be straightforward, you didn't want her to “interpret” your words differently.

“I know that sweetie, you’re going home in three days, we already talked about this.” It had been mentioned in passing, but that wasn’t good enough.

“No, mom, I need to go home now. Today.” You closed your eyes, headache still thrumming at your temples. 

“You can’t seriously be cutting your trip short, we’ve been having such a lovely time with you here!” Your mother was delusional. 

“Work called,” you lied, “they need me back tomorrow, it’s an emergency. Someone got sick.” 

“If someone is sick at your work, you shouldn’t be going back there.” She said matter of factly. 

“Nobody else is sick, mom, just her and her family. They need the help.” You weren’t going to budge on this issue.

“I’ll speak with your father,” her tone clipped.

“Thank you.” You were relieved it was that easy. You probably looked as bad as you felt.

The rest of the day you spent in recovery, hiding in your room. Your family wasn’t interested in you if you were physically unwell, something you appreciated heavily. By that evening, you got a text from your mother reminding you about dinner. You were going to make sure it was your last one.

Surprisingly, you didn’t have to force the news of your early departure; your father brought it up before you could say anything.

“I’ll have you flown home tomorrow morning. Your mother says it’s important.” You weren’t sure if he looked unhappy or if that’s just what his face looked like. 

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” You weren’t going to listen to any more bullshit about how you were ungrateful.

“I can’t believe you won’t even stay for New Years, do you hate us that much?” Your sister asked from across the table. 

“I’m sorry, I have to work,” you had a fake smile plastered on your face. 

“Ugh,” was her only reply. 

You couldn’t wait for dinner to be over, springing from your chair to pack as soon as you were allowed. Sweeping your toiletries into a ziplock bag, you didn’t even have any clothes to pack because you sure as hell weren’t going to bring back any of the fancy clothes in your old closet. All you could think about was getting the hell out of there. You missed your own bed, your own house, your own clothes and meals and even work. Realizing you had only hours left before you were leaving made you giddy.

There was no farewell party to see you off the next morning, your father didn’t even walk you to the door to say goodbye. You got a generous nod from your brother, an uncomfortable hug from your sister and a look from Bucky.  Your father gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and a farewell after breakfast, mother chattering the whole time she walked you out. You let her smother you with affection, knowing you wouldn’t be seeing her again for several years if you had it your way. 

“I love you so much darling, let me know when you get home!” Tears welled in her eyes, you weren’t sure if they were genuine or she was putting on an act, but you gave her a hug and a kiss and waved goodbye.

The ride was uneventful, you took a nap for most of it, getting excited when you touched down. Finally, you were home. No more family, no more parties, no more people you didn’t want to talk to parading around your house. It was bliss. Not only that, but you still had a few days to yourself of holiday vacation.

-

Some time off from work where you were left to your own devices almost made up for the time you spent with your family. You didn’t have to pretend anything for anyone, could wear and eat what you wanted, it was great. A walk around the block had your face flushed from the cold air. You stopped at your mailbox as you made your way inside the wam house, the air welcoming on your cold skin. 

There were two items in your mailbox; one was a small box wrapped in Christmas paper, the other a thick yellow legal envelope. 

Setting down the envelope, you looked at the wrapped box and shook it lightly. Something rattled inside. Realizing there was a tag, you turned it over, grimacing when you read it. 

“Sorry I missed Christmas, but I wanted to get you a gift. ❤ Steve”

You didn’t want to open anything from him, but your curiosity got the better of you. What could Steve Rogers possibly have gotten you as a gift? After it was open, you dropped it, realizing what it was. Gingerly picking it up, you read the words “Clear Blue, digital pregnancy test”. You set it on the counter, reaching down for the note that had fallen to the floor.

“Hey babe ❤ I’d wait another week or two, but send me a picture of the results” 

Of course that’s what he would get you, he probably thought it was funny. It made you angry, you tossed it to the side. Seeing that the legal envelope was addressed to you from Steve’s law firm, you tossed that aside too. You were finally home, away from all the terrible people who inundated the last week of your life, and you didn’t have to think about them anymore. 

That night you had the best sleep of your life, comfortable in your own bed, between your own sheets, with your own pillows, alone. Life was back to good old normal.

-

A month back into the swing of things had you feeling great, you had nearly forgotten all about your forced holiday time with family. You had always been good at blocking out the many unpleasant memories from your past, it worked this time too. 

You felt almost smug, living your life the way you wanted, not needing anyone else to supplement your income, loving your job, living alone. It was everything your family had tried to beat out of you, and you had done it anyway. Maybe they’d never think that meant anything, but to you it did. It meant everything.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened, I feel terrible.” You spoke over the phone to your boss.

“Don’t worry about it, okay. Just get some rest and feel better, we’re going to be fine here.” This was one of the first bosses you had that actually cared about their employees, health included.

“Thank you so much, I’ll let you know how I feel tomorrow.” 

You felt better after eating, the nausea abating, but you still ached. You hadn’t been sick in over a year, maybe the trip to New York finally caught up. You didn’t feel great the next day, going as far as getting a nasal swab to see if it was anything serious. But you were negative, and negative for the flu as well, which kind of confused you. You were so tired, your body ached, you were nauseous often. Happy it wasn’t anything serious, you gave it to the end of the week before considering going back to work. 

Later, you laid in bed feeling too warm, then too cold, tired as all hell, but your mind was whirring. If it wasn’t serious, it wasn’t the flu, why did you feel so bad? Maybe it was just your period about to hit. Tugging that thread, you thought about what week it was and how long the PMS would last, then you froze. You should have had your period two weeks ago.

No, no that couldn’t be right, could it? You got out of bed and looked at the calendar on your desk, then the one on your wall, then on your phone. Shit. You began to hyperventilate, the stupid decisions you made over the holidays came flooding back to you. Without realizing it, you made your way to the desk and opened the bottom drawer where you had thrown the pregnancy test Steve sent you as a sick joke. 

Cursing yourself, you went into the bathroom and found that the box contained two tests. Anxiety gripping your stomach, you took both the tests, then sat with your head down on the counter until the timer went off. 

It couldn’t be more clear. There were no lines or dots, just plain english words that were impossible to misconstrue. Pregnant. Pregnant. 

Remembering the envelope that accompanied the tests, you grabbed it from the drawer and tore open the seal under the bright bathroom lights. Pulling only half of the paper from the envelope, you saw that the letterhead was fancy, bearing the words Barnes & Rogers, Bucky and Steve’s law firm. 

In bold letters beneath it you read: 

“Filiation Proceeding- Rogers vs. Mother

RE:Court ordered Paternity test lawsuit.”

Steve was going to make you prove that baby was his, even if he had to take you to court.

You felt sick. Your head spun. What had you done?

-

Tags: 

@emberenchanted  @aemorr-5885  @lovepeaceorelse  blithecapricorn  @jemimah-b99

#writing #this is dark #dark writings #dark!captain america #Dark fics #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #dark!captain america x reader #dark!marvel

[t-lostinworlds]

Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

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[nerdzzone]

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Note: Thank you to everyone who has read, liked or commented on this story! I appreciate the support. 

This was the entirety of my original plot, it was just supposed to be a one shot when I started writing it, but it took on a life of it’s own. There’s quite a bit more to come now so I hope no one is too disappointed by the way this ends! I’ve started working on the sequel and have it all mapped out, but I probably won’t post it until it’s mostly finished like I did with this one. So, keep your eyes peeled and please let me know your thoughts!

Part Two

—-

Part Three

26. 12. 19

Waking up, it took a few moments for the memories of the night before to come back to me. When they did, I was filled with relief that I was alone and Chris was no where to be seen. My head throbbed, partially from the alcohol I'd consumed and partially because of the regrets that were filling my mind.

How could we be so stupid? So reckless? How could we risk everything that we'd built for Grayson just for a few moments of relief? How would I be able to push my feelings for Chris aside again after sharing such intimacy with him?

It broke my heart to make the decision to be friends the first time we found ourselves in this situation, how could I be foolish enough to put myself through that again?

I turned my head and groaned into the pillow, a much more distressed, melancholy groan than the ones leaving my lips the night before. I felt like an idiot and I was dreading facing Chris.

After taking another moment to chastise myself for my bad choices, I checked my phone to see the time and was shocked. It was already almost nine thirty and I hadn't heard a peep from the rest of the house. Unfortunately, that meant I didn't have time to mope around in bed, puzzling out what to do.

So, I took just enough time to decide that I needed to make a quick exit before getting up to get myself ready to leave.

 -

  When I got to the kitchen, it was surprisingly quiet. None of the men or children were anywhere to be seen as Lisa, Shanna and Carly tidied up the dishes from the breakfast that I'd missed. Apparently, there was another snow storm forecast to start by the early afternoon and everyone had headed out into the snow as soon as they'd finished eating to start shovelling so that we could all leave before it hit.

I was relieved by their quick action because even if I had to shovel the whole driveway by myself and then drive home in a blizzard, I was not sticking around for another night.

Lisa had tried to convince me to let her cook me breakfast, but my stomach was in too many knots to even think about food. I politely declined and settled for a banana and a cup of coffee, chatting with the women as I ate. It distracted me for a while as I tried to shut off some of the noise in my brain, but once I was finished, I knew I had to face the music and head outside.

By the time I got out there, Chris, Scott and their brother-in-law were already halfway down the driveway which was an impressive feat considering how long it was. I waved to them as I put my bag in my car before heading towards where the children were playing in the front yard.

"Mama!" Grayson cheered as I approached them. "Look! We're building a snowman!"

I looked at the sloppy pile of snow they were assembling and smiled.

"Wow, I can see that! Great job, guys!"

He grinned as he ran over to me and threw his arms around my legs. It was a feeling that never got old and I leaned down to squeeze him closer, trying to ignore the wave of guilt that washed over me. He was the most important thing in our situation and we'd lost sight of that.

"Can you help us?"

"Of course," I nodded. "But I need to go talk to your daddy real quick, okay? Then I'll be right back."

"Okay!"

With that, Grayson bolted back over to his cousins to continue their little project. They were so good with him, including him in their games and activities despite his young age and I was happy that he had such good role models to play with. Leaving them under Dodger's watchful eye, I took a deep breath and headed down the driveway to Chris.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Scott shouted over, the first to notice me coming their way. "Thanks for getting up so early to help us shovel the driveway."

I laughed at his sarcasm and stuck out my tongue, but when he shot me a knowing wink, I felt my cheeks burn. Of course Chris would tell him. I should have expected it, they were as close as brothers could be and Chris was always open with his family.

But it just made me feel worse about the conversation I was about to have as I went over to Chris. Luckily, he was on the opposite side of the driveway to the other two. At least that would give us a modicum of privacy.

"Hey, good morning," he grinned. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did," I returned his smile, though mine was much more forced. "Thanks for letting me sleep in."

"Grayson wanted to wake you up at breakfast," he admitted, looking over at our son as he spoke. "He was worried that you'd be hungry when you woke up and there would be no more food left."

I couldn’t help, but laugh at the thought of his concern.

"He's too sweet, but I appreciate you stopping him," I admitted. "I guess I was tired out after last night."

"Last night," Chris smirked. "Last night was..."

He trailed off as he tried to think of a word to describe it, but my smile disappeared entirely as I could tell from the look on his face that we weren't reflecting on our little incident in the same way. So, I beat him to the punch.

"Last night was a mistake."

My words hung between us for a moment and I knew, from the way that his jaw dropped slightly as if I'd just slapped him across the face, that he wasn't happy with what I'd said.

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" He protested once my words had sunk in, keeping his voice low enough that no one would be able to overhear. "You're saying that it meant nothing to you?"

I really wished we weren't outside with so many watchful eyes around, but this conversation needed to be had and at least this way I'd have an excuse to keep things brief.

"I'm saying that it shouldn't have happened," I clarified, my voice wavering slightly as I questioned my own confidence in my words. "We've worked hard to keep things as stable as possible for Grayson and that's what we need to stay focused on."

"So, you just want to pretend that it never happened?"

My heart felt like it was in a vice. I didn't want to pretend it never happened. I wanted to be with Chris, I wanted us to give it a shot, but I knew that it wouldn't work. I was nothing compared to the women that Chris usually dated and when it all fell apart, Grayson would be the one stuck in the middle. It wasn't fair to him.

But that knowledge didn't make it any less painful when I nodded my head.

"I think that's for the best."

Chris scoffed, looking down at the snow as if he couldn't even stand to look at me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away or cry and throw myself into his arms so I settled for simply standing there quietly, waiting for him to say something.

It felt like an eternity, but after a minute or two of total silence, he finally spoke.

"Just let me make sure that I'm getting this right," he started, looking back up at me with such an intensity that it made my eyes swim with tears. “You really have no feelings for me at all? Because if you feel even a little bit like I do then you couldn’t possibly think you’re making any sense right now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with the situation that I found myself in. A situation where Chris could be standing in front of me, telling me that he had feelings for me after all these years that we’d been determined to be just friends. It would have felt like a cruel joke if there wasn’t so much hurt in his eyes, so much fear that I was about to reject him. Fear that proved to be entirely justified when I finally got my emotions under control enough to answer him.

"It doesn't matter," I told him softly. "It's not about what I feel or what you feel. We have someone more important to consider."

“That's bullshit!"

I flinched at the harshness of his words and his raised voice as Scott shouted over a reminder about language as the kids weren't very far away. I could feel the tears still filling my eyes, but I knew I had to stick to my guns.

"It's not bullshit," I insisted. "It's the right thing to do."

"But you said yourself, he's starting to notice that things are different," Chris pointed out, his voice thankfully much softer than it had been moments ago . "Why not take the chance to give him a normal family if that's what we both want anyway?"

"Because it will hurt him more if it doesn't work out."

"Hurt him?" Chris questioned, his scowl deepening. "Or hurt you?"

Both of us. 

The truth was that I was worried that Chris would hurt me just as much as I worried that our decision would hurt Grayson, but I could handle the risk to myself if it was my choice. I couldn't handle our son being collateral damage.

I could feel Chris' gaze locked intently on me, but I couldn't lift my eyes to meet his. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold onto my argument when the decision I was making wasn't even what I truly wanted. I needed this conversation to end before I let my guard down and made anymore stupid choices.

"We can't talk about this here, Chris."

"Well, when will we talk about it then?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I need to think."

Chris shook his head as a sigh fell from his lips. He looked defeated.

"Alright."

I took that as an end to the conversation and turned to walk away, but I'd only made it a few steps when Chris called out to me again.

"I care about you, Whitney," he told me as I looked back over my shoulder. "This wasn't nothing to me. I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to make this work."

That only made me feel worse as I had done it without such noble intentions and with doubt still plaguing my mind. I felt cowardly, but I couldn't bring myself to answer him as I looked away and continued on my way back towards our son.

 -

  I stayed outside, playing with the kids in the snow, until the driveway was clear. Once my car was free, I scooped Grayson up and said my goodbyes.

"Be good for your dad, okay?"

"Okay, Mama!" He smiled, pressing a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "I love you!"

"I love you too, buddy. I'll see you in a few days."

I put him down and waved as he ran back to follow his cousins who were heading inside. 

Turning back to my car, I  wasn’t entirely surprised to see Chris leaning against the hood. However, I was surprised to see that the scowl that had been firmly on his face since we talked had eased somewhat and I was even more surprised when he pulled me into a hug as soon as I was close enough.

"Drive safe," he warned me. "The roads still look pretty bad."

"I will," I nodded, easing myself out of his grip. "And I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."

"Don't sweat it." He shrugged, but the dejected look on his face did little to assure me that he accepted my apology.  "We'll talk soon though, right?"

I nodded and stepped back, moving to get into my car as Chris moved away from the hood.

He stayed there on the driveway, watching me as I turned the car around and waving as I drove off until he was out of sight.

I felt exhausted and heavy. There were tears brewing in my eyes as I turned onto the road, just as they had been when I drove these streets on Christmas Eve as I was taking Grayson to dad's house and thinking I would be spending the holidays alone. It was amazing to me how I managed to escape the sad, bleak Christmas that I had been anticipating at that point, and yet still somehow managed to come away feeling just as lonely.

And it was amazing to me that I ever let myself think that raising a child with Chris Evans wouldn't be emotionally draining as long as we weren't in a relationship. At this point, it seemed to just make things harder, but I knew that one day both of them would thank me for the sacrifice I was making right now.

I knew that it was the right decision for all three of us and one little slip up, one lapse in judgment and will power, wouldn't derail all the hard work that Chris and I had put in to co-parenting our son.

Or, at least, I hoped with all my heart that it wouldn't.

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #once bitten twice shy

[mccall-me-maurice]

A new list of headcanons for the updated AU

Lotf headcanons

Jack:

Jack is Ralph’s academic rival and also head of the debate team. He spends the weekends at his father’s business, learning how to run the company. On the Saturday nights, he goes to an underground club in a fight ring thing. Nobody knows he does it, even though Ralph also spends time there.

Jack is dyslexic and has minor and manageable OCD, denying using extra help for his dyslexia in classes.

Comes from a wealthy family with 6 siblings, his father divorcing his mother and marrying his step-mother who he pushes away because he’s angsty and shes “not his real mother.”

Loves 80s music so much, he’s a nerd for it.

Sings in the shower/bathroom like into a hairbrush in front of the mirror in his little towel like a nerd but he’s actually really good at singing.

Wears his uniform extremely sharply and very crisp like why so much effort.

He has hearing loss due to an accident in his childhood and he’s fluent in ASL, but doesn’t wear his hearing aids almost ever.

Ralph:

Ralph is fluent in violin, he’s actually really good at playing, he was also an ocean lifeguard and saved Jack’s life when he got caught in a current.

He wears thick framed glasses to read and has really swoopy handwriting thats illegible because it’s like messy calligraphy.

Ralph dives as a hobby and is so good at it, like scary good at diving perfectly.

He has beauty marks on his face that he lets people trace sometimes, ink usually adorning his cheeks.

Very French, extremely French. Fluent in the language.

Draws on his hands with different coloured pens and the designs are always so intricate like a mandala colouring book.

Also draws on the cuffs of his jeans and the rubber edge of his sneakers all the time.

Blushes very easily, will go red in a matter of seconds flat either when he’s flustered, embarrassed or angry.

Brothers with Robert.

Simon:

Spends all of his out of school time in his mother’s flower shop and can recite the meaning of most flowers if you ask him. His fingers are all bandaged up because of how much he cuts himself with knives when he’s removing stems or clippers.

He has epilepsy and faints frequently.

Is a fan of older musicals, like Grease, Dirty Dancing and Hairspray and makes the choir watch them with him.

Rarely spends time indoors, Simon is usually out biking around the neighbourhood or walking around with his friends from school.

Will paint rocks and gift them to people when he thinks they’re upset. Also does face painting at the school carnivals, because he never minds being alone in a booth when there is nobody there.

Speaks softly and is usually ignored in favour of people with louder opinions, but he’s usually right.

Roger:

His biological family died in a house accident, the only thing surviving being him and his cat Nastya, who he loves more than anything. Because of his parents death, he taught himself the rest of the Russian language, which they were already teaching him along with English. However, his heritage is East Asian and Russian.

He pierced his lip by himself, and even though it turned out fine, he got his ears done professionally.

Not very affectionate and will push people away, distancing himself because he doesn’t like the idea of anyone being close to him and get under his skin.

Dyed the back part of his hair on a whim and just liked it enough to keep it as a style.

Spends nights at Simon’s place instead of his own, finding more comfort in Simon’s house.

Sam:

Comes from a German family, but knows German, Italian and English.

He hates birthdays because he doesn’t understand why they are so important.

Hates social interactions and actively avoids them with a passion. He gets extremely nervous and just leaves abruptly when he gets too overwhelmed.

Younger than Eric by 6 minutes, which he routinely gets teased for.

Into super cheesy romantic movies because he loves the idea of a happy ending despite not having one himself.

Messes with his hair when he’s anxious, so it’s constantly messy and mussed.

Mega nail biter when he’s nervous.

Cousins with Jack.

Maurice:

Heavily touch reliant and when his friends don’t show him physical affection, he assumes the worst and gets very upset.

Heavily Italian, like so fucking Italian. His family hardly speaks English and he learned most of his from school.

Very passionate about science despite most people thinking he’s an idiot. He has some of the highest marks in his class.

Messes with things when he’s talking or uses hand gestures. Like if there’s a pen, he’s clicking it because it helps him concentrate.

Maurice has like a billion flannels and hoodies he just cycles through and it looks like he doesn’t change but no, it’s just that he owns a gazillion grey hoodies

His older sister when to an Ivy League school, so he owns a lot of stuff from it that he wears like sweaters or ball caps.

Eric:

Very sarcastic. his entire sense of humour is him bathing in his own sarcasm. It’s actually pretty well timed and kind of funny how he’s able to deadpan his jokes.

Very easily picks up on languages. He’s fluent or close to fluent in German, English, Italian, French, Spanish, Japanese and partly fluent in Korean.

Really enjoys computer science and plans on doing it for a living. He stays up late at night to work and sleeps until like midday.

Doesn’t acknowledge other people’s emotions very often because he doesn’t realise when he’s gone too far, but still feels bad for others when they’re hurt.

Jack’s favourite cousin because they’re cynical buddies. Jack is overly protective of him even though Eric is perfectly capable.

Robert:

Brothers with Ralph and is very protective over him. Has absolutely slandered choir members before for hating on Ralph.

Shares a dad with Ralph but has a different mom, who he visits over the summer and sometimes during the holidays. That’s where he gets his Spanish roots from, which is a language he’s fluent in. He has 7 siblings on that side of his family.

Adores burnt popcorn and burnt anything. If he can burn it, he will.

Works as a mechanic in his free time and built the car he shares with Ralph.

Sci-Fi nerd, specifically Star Wars. He loves the movies and watches them like every day.

Extremely talented artist, Robert sketches anytime he has a pencil and paper.

Peter:

Was bullied in the past but doesn’t let the words bother him anymore. It mostly stopped around high school.

Works with his auntie in the sweet shop and brings his friends food for them to taste test.

Used to be a boy scout, so he can tie any knot you want him to, it’s really a gift.

Gets very cold very easily, especially his fingertips. He usually has a pair of gloves on him for when it gets really bad.

A Mathlete for most of his time in high school, obviously is extremely intelligent.

Double knots his shoelaces so they’re extra secure.

Bill:

Swedish, and really enjoys his own culture. He will spend HOURS rambling about it and how much he loves it.

Watches Avatar the Last Airbender and has the biggest crushes on Sokka and Zuko.

Also is a sucker for people who wear glasses, he really loves them.

Works at the library despite not liking books, he finds comfort in shelving them and the order they go in.

Puts little umbrellas in every single drink he has, it doesn’t matter what it is.

Writes notes to himself on sticky notes because his memory is horrible.

Sets at least 5 alarms because 1 will not wake him up by itself.

Harold:

Can speak limited Spanish due to his schooling.

Likes singing, but never really got into it like some choir members because he has stage fright.

Powerful speaker when he wants to be, but is usually too nervous to say anything.

Has no idea how to tie a tie, so he lets other people do it for him.

Sometimes take sarcastic comments seriously and ends up confused.

A really good actor and loves the performing arts.

Has extremely clear skin, he never gets any blemishes.

Wilfred:

Dyed his hair because his naturally brown hair reminds him too much of his father, who he hates.

Has 4 tattoos in total, the 4 card suits on his cheek, a half sleeve of roses, a bow and olive branch on his inner forearm, and the solar system on his outer forearm.

Very flirtatious to people he doesn’t really like but gets nervous around those he does.

Hold grudges really well.

Has shockingly neat handwriting.

Has a pretty horrible home life but he never talks about it to anyone because he doesn’t want to be perceived as weak or incapable.

Colours with only crayons.

Percival:

Cries easily, as he’s very emotionally driven and is typically teased for being a crybaby or told to “toughen up.”

Absolutely has the worst sleep schedule ever, he gets 3 hours and calls it a win.

Can’t sleep without a nightlight on in his room.

Enjoys writing things down in this notebook instead of on his phone because he likes the feeling of physically using pen and paper.

Sends letters to people all the time instead of messaging.

Good at sewing, he makes his own Halloween costume every year by himself.

Hates horror movies because he’s spooked easily.

Max:

Lived through a house fire when he was younger, so he has burn scars all over his arms.

Is afraid of cooking due to the fire and will go without eating if he has to touch the stove to make food.

Laid back most of the time, but can reach a snapping point in which the emotion is amplified. (like sadness or anger)

Loves swimming, it doesn’t matter where he does it, he just loves to swim.

Is very time sensitive and has to get places early or directly on time or else he gets anxious.

A very fast reader, typically long books take him 2-3 days to get through.

Johnny:

Worries a lot, he usually sees the worst in every single situation.

Is a trans male (Ftm) and was accepted by his entire family when he came out.

Owns a St. Bernard named Dolly who is the sweetest dog ever.

Spends a lot of time outdoors, he still plays as if he is a child.

Also enjoys the snow a lot because he’s fond of building snowmen with the kids on his street.

Has very sensitive skin and eczema, which he doesn’t like to talk about or show anyone because it makes him feel insecure.

Oddly good at playing guitar, he just picks up on chords with ease.

Walter:

Good at playing the drums and annoys his entire family with it.

Uses a skateboard as his main method of transportation around places.

On the basketball team, as his older brother taught him to play when they were both younger.

Hates roller skating despite being very good at most things on wheels. He can never find his balance.

Shockingly good at Math, especially statistics and calculus. He’s in all advanced math courses.

Has a very weird snake addiction and he desperately wants to buy one.

Henry:

Aromantic Asexual who is best friends with Harold and Wilfred.

Mainly makes snippy remarks because his humour falls into the sarcasm umbrella.

Adores comic books and superheroes, specifically Marvel ones because he’s a fan of Dare Devil.

Plays baseball in his free time but hasn’t joined a team, he just plays with the boys in his neighbourhood.

Addicted to the High School Musical movies.

Good at painting people’s nails and will do it for them if they ask.

Has really fluffy hair that he lets people touch and play with.

#lotf #lord of the flies #lotf headcanons #lotf jack #lotf ralph #lotf simon #lotf roger #lotf maurice #lotf samneric #lotf robert #lotf piggy #lotf bill #lotf percival #lotf mulberry boy #lotf harold #lotf wilfred #lotf johnny #lotf walter #lotf henry #my headcanons

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Eleven: Break Up)

← Chapter Ten

“A little higher, yes, right there! Now to the left, put the nail right below that truss. Perfect! I’ll hand you the sign.” I reached down and picked up the newly polished piece of wood with the cafe’s name on it in a fresh coat of paint for the year-end opening. 

Flynn’s 

Jonas took it in his hands and hung it up on the new wooden post. This time, it would hang off over the street so that people could see where we were. Before, the sign was nailed next to the door and was now fading drastically. While I kept the old sign there for memories, the new sign was a fresh red color and had been sealed by the carpenter to make sure it lasted longer than the last one. It was something I had meant to do for years, but never got around to it. Now that I was just sitting and making bread for the refugees, I had time to design the shape and font I wanted. The sign was a light wooden rectangle with dark, red cursive lettering and had another small circular sign with a cup of tea attached to it, indicating we were a café. 

“It looks nice, Eva. You picked a good wood to contrast the letters,” Ben marveled up at it as Jonas came down from his ladder. Whenever I had added or changed something about the café, I asked Ben his thoughts about it, seeing he was the only one, second to me, who cared the most about it. When I went to him saying I was buying a new sign, he rejoiced. 

Jonas shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at it too. He couldn’t grasp why this was such a monumental change to Ben and I who had to fight Mr. Flynn to even make a sign in the first place. There weren’t many visitors to Trost when he had built the café, but when we came along, things were changing and he hated it. The first time Catrin gave out fresh squeezed juice, he grumbled about it for weeks saying a café should just have bread and coffee. It was funny, but if we left Mr. Flynn alone with his precious café, he would have ran it into the ground.

“You think he hates it?” I looked up to Ben and he nodded and mirrored Jonas’s stance. There was almost some undertone of weirdness being friends with Jonas because when he hit puberty, he morphed into a younger version of Ben. It was also a bit awkward that the mirror image of my brother still had feelings for me. Maybe that was one of the reasons I didn’t see Jonas as someone other than my best friend or another brother. They looked too similar.

“Most definitely. The old man is rolling in his grave right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if a strong winter wind knocked it down.” We stood there for a few, marveling at the sign as the sun went down. Jonas was the first one to whine it was too cold and we took that as a sign to go back into the café. I still had to clean up and get ready for opening tomorrow. Ben and Jonas had promised to help me run the café tomorrow to hold off the rush of people coming. 

When I took out an add in the paper to announce my holiday hours, people had flocked to my door, there to confirm if the newspaper was right. When I told them I was, in fact, opening back for year-end only, people were already trying to put in orders. I think the people of Trost wanted normal back, and my café would give them some of it. 

“So the Garrison just dropped you like that? Without any warning?” Jonas swept some dirt into the dust pan. 

“It wasn’t like, out of the blue. I knew it was coming. They have nothing to give me for pay and I demanded pay. I would have done it for a few more weeks as well, just for the refugee’s sake, but with the allotted flour for year-end, I just couldn’t continue without them giving me their stores. I wish they did it a little after year-end though so I could have brought pastries to the refugees. Maybe next year will be a better harvest.” Ben looked up from the book he was reading and moved his feet so Jonas could sweep under them. Jonas mumbled something under his breath about his father not doing anything, but he left it unnoticed. 

“Could you just show up with some things? Maybe you could make enough to give the children?” Ben had also worked closely with the refugees, trying to help outsource jobs and employment opportunities for them when people still trusted them. By now, no one would take in refugees for work. 

“No, they aren’t letting any outsiders into the stockyards now. That might be another reason I can’t make bread anymore. I have no idea why they’re doing that, and I hope it’s not another isolation policy because Trost citizens are complaining again. I even asked a person in the Garrison who likes me, and he said he couldn’t say.” Jonas, again, grumbled something under his breath, probably about the refugees, and I threw a rag at his head. 

“Hey!” 

“You are almost thirty years old and have no regard for other human lives. Tch!” He threw the rag back at me a little harder and glared. Ben just looked on, smirking at the two kids he was used to bickering back and forth. Ben had said the first day he introduced Jonas to me, he knew we’d be best friends and perfect enemies.

“Well, we always seem to forget that two refugees attacked you and that our food supply is little to none because we have to give half of it to them. It’s not just Trost either, Aunt Catrin told us that Stohess is also struggling with the weight of a whole district. We’ll be starved by next spring, the titans won’t even want to eat us!” I put down my rag and just sighed, glaring at him as he swept quickly, wanting to get out of the café. Jonas had broken up with his third girlfriend of the year and he wasn’t in the mood to have a heated argument session with the girl that was still pushing him away. That was the reason she had broken up with him: he still had feelings for me. I was afraid to bring up Levi to him because of this, but I wanted to tell him. Everyday, I would get more and more uncomfortable lying to him.

“I’m sure the titans don’t want to eat you anyways, Jonas.” He stopped sweeping, glaring at the ground. Uh oh. 

“I guess no one wants me then.” It was Ben’s turn to widen his eyes at his son’s sadness. He had spent a few minutes lecturing Jonas about how long it took Ben to find Analee, but it didn’t help soothe his sadness. In all honesty, Analee was Ben’s first girlfriend and he got her pregnant before they were even married and both eighteen. He wasn’t the right person to give his son advice and neither was I. We both agreed to just forget Jonas said that and move on with whatever we were doing. 

“Well, you two, I’m going to get back home. Your sister was adamant I help her build that new desk before tomorrow. I’ll be here tomorrow at opening, Eva, like old times. Don’t come back late Jonas, or you’ll wake up your mother.” I smiled up him, casting away the mood Jonas put me in, and waved to my brother. Ben and I were the closest, probably because of our locations too, and I always felt calm when he was around me. He was the most like Mr. Flynn. Jonas was such the opposite, and I’d always wondered how Ben had made him.

When he left and the bell stopped ringing above the door, Jonas and I just let the silence consume us. At this point, he wasn’t even sweeping up dirt, but he didn’t want to talk to me in the bad mood he was in. Did she really have to break up with him when I was about to spend every day of the next week with him? It had nothing to do with his feelings for me, but everything to do with the awful mood he’d be in. Last break up, I had to pull him from the bar at least three times, waste a pale of water to sober him up, and he fell asleep completely on top of me, cutting off my breathing. I had told Levi about this and he threatened to break off his fingers in letter form, even if it was back when we were eighteen. Levi gave Jonas no chances.

“How many people do you think will be here tomorrow?” He broke the silence first and I was glad he’d changed the subject. I could talk to a regulars Jonas.

“I couldn’t say. I’ve had at least thirty come to the café in the past week asking. I don’t think there will be a lot of people at the tables, but most will be coming in and out.” He nodded and set the broom down, sitting with it. He’d probably swept the floors twice, but I guess the extra cleaning won’t hurt. 

“My dad’s been on my ass about learning how to work at the café. Something about character building…” Sounds like Ben. Well, sounds like Mr. Flynn, but same person. 

“I wouldn’t mind the extra help. Elias can’t really count money reliably enough to let me bake while he runs orders. I let him just take things in and out of the oven and to customers. Sometimes, I’ll even let him use the mixer. Elias is getting that vital character development. I’ve also thought about giving him this job when he gets old enough so he doesn’t have to work under his father.” I jumped back up on the counter and forgot I had just cleaned it. I’ll do it more tomorrow. 

“I hated this place as a kid. Grandpa always forced us to clean if we were staying with him and Duran tried to always beat me up for no reason. When I was old enough to get my own job, I was ready to leave it behind. Funny to think the kid likes it here. I guess since you’re basically his older sister, it’s probably a you and dad situation.” Jonas and his younger sister were forced to come help at the café since Mr. Flynn was getting older. Duran would always run off somewhere and I stayed and baked, so Mr. Flynn needed some others to do the dishes and lift heavy boxes. Jonas stayed because I stayed. The café work at least helped Jonas prepare for delivery work at Reeve’s. 

“I loved this place, still do, but you know that already. It wouldn’t be mine if I didn’t like it.” He rolled his eyes, knowing how much I stupidly fell in love with the bakery at one point. It was during secondary school when Mr. Flynn’s lessons of life actually go through to me. I was finally getting out of the Underground depression and having a purpose fueled me. The bakery was something I did every day, almost every hour, and sometimes neglected my school work to do it. I had finally found something that was mine and I wasn’t going to let any amount of slacking take it away from me. 

“Do you think you’ll stay here forever? I mean, like Grandpa did. Pass it on to your kids and what not.” I nodded, looking out at the hanging sign in a crack of the front window blind. 

“There’s nowhere else I want to really go. I have everything I need here in Trost and I can go visit the other districts when I want. Plus, we’ve already lost four places I can go, so it’s slim pickings for retail locations. If I somehow don’t end up having kids and Elias takes my offer, I’ll give it to him probably. ” He hummed in agreement and leaned back in his chair, tilting the front legs of the floor. This reminded me of when we were in school and Mr. Flynn would make us close up for him when he wanted to sleep early. We’d clean and then sit here talking for hours about anything. I’d force Jonas to help me with math homework and sometimes pay him to do it. After Jonas got a job, it would be just me closing. It’s been a long time since this ex-tradition has occurred, so it was mildly comforting. We sat like that for a while, just staring somewhere in the café, probably thinking about when we were young.

Mr. Flynn acted like he hated us, but I knew a day never went by when he didn’t smile down at us and was thankful we were there. Jonas, Duran, and I were a lot to handle sometimes, but it was just the joys of youth. I would pay to go back them, too. Just to be able to tell myself that I needed to remember times like this, because when I was older, it would all change. I would be alone in the café.

“You know, Dad wants us to get together. He said it’s the thing that makes the most sense.” I sighed. There goes the comforting feeling that we’d just developed. Goddamn it, if he didn’t have to mention that, I would have had a great night, even a drink or two to celebrate opening. Now, his attitude changed and he suddenly wanted to talk about feelings. Didn’t you just get broken up with?

Ben had even taken me aside after Wall Maria fell and mentioned to me what he thought was right. Humanity’s time seemed to be fleeting and it wouldn’t be fun to die without a family. I fended him off, not telling him that I was not alone and very much in a relationship, but he would still leave hints here and there. Today was one of those days talking about keeping the café in the family and remembering the times when little kids ran around the tables. He’d even start telling us stories of how him and Analee would take care of the café as it’s first employees and how they fell in love. He was hoping the same thing would happen to Jonas, and that’s why he was forcing him to work here now. That was probably the only thing Ben and Jonas agreed on. 

“He’s mentioned it to me a few times. I’ve always told him no, but I guess when he gets his mind set on something you can’t tell him to lay off of it.” I looked warily at Jonas, trying to gage where this conversation was going. Why does it always have to be around year-end when he tries to pull all of this stuff? Wasn’t he just crying about his girlfriend breaking up with him yesterday? Now he’s talking about how bad Ben wants us to get married? 

“You know what I think about it. If you gave me a chance then may-” I cut him off before he could dig himself into a deeper hole. How could I tell him he wasn’t the one for me without telling him about Levi? While Levi and I weren’t nearly as serious as our time together would allow, his letters have shown me no reason to think we’d be ending our relationship soon. I was busy with bread and the café, he was busy with training, and at the end of the day we would sit down and write letters to each other, looking out at the same moon over Trost. It wasn’t the best situation, but it wasn’t one that was so hard I’d give into Jonas’s easy way. 

“Jonas, you also know my opinion. You’re like my brother or my cousin. We were raised together and you look almost exactly like Ben. I don’t need to keep listing out reasons to hurt your feelings more.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. 

“I know, but it’s just… Actually, I don’t know what it is. Never being able to advance your relationship with someone you have feelings for? Always getting into relationships you know will end because you don’t really like the girl? Maybe, I’m just tired of doing that.” 

“You’ll find someone, Jonas. You just aren’t looking in the right places. What was the girl’s name? Nana? Nora? Whatever it was she was annoying and self-centered.” I laid back on the counter looking up at the ceiling. I wasn’t going to be able to cheer him up like this forever because it’s always at the expense of me not liking him. He makes me feel like all of these breakups are my fault.

“She wasn’t you.” There it is. The direction we were going to. 

“You need to stop thinking about me, Jonas. What do you need me to say or do so that you move on from me?” I put my arm over my eyes, trying to stop the headache that I knew was about to come soon. I guess he was holding this in for a few months since he was dating that girl. It started with an N, I know that for a fact.

“No clue, Ev, but when I find it, I’ll tell you. If knowing that you’re in love with the Captain of the Scouts doesn’t deter me, I don’t know what will.” My eyes snapped open. 

“If knowing what?!” What the hell does he know? There’s a very serious possibility that he was sneaking around and found the letters in my desk. Maybe he saw Erwin’s letter carrier handing me the envelope? It didn’t make sense that he would know from Levi and I’s actions because he was pretty cold to me when Jonas was around. We’d taken most of the precautions we needed to. It had to just be his hunch… but his hunch was right. 

“I heard you that one night when he was bandaging you. There was just… something didn’t sit right with me when I was leaving. I sat there outside of the café listening to you two for what felt like hours. That confirmed it for me, but I still can’t believe it until it comes out of your own mouth. I guess I’m not good enough for you, Eva, but how could you fall for a Scout? I didn’t think you were that stupid.” The anger enveloped me as he said that, but I knew what he was saying was from deep down inside. If he knew this long, his heart beat with anger at every and any mention of the Scouts. His unexplained hatred for their presence in the last few months now made sense. Every time he saw a Scout he was reminded that even though they die young, are never around, and go on suicide missions, I’d rather pick that over him.

Laying there on that counter with Jonas’s eyes on me… it made me uncomfortable. Every layer of privacy and secrecy was shed in front of him now knowing that he knew for that long. That means he must have noticed the letters. Noticed how I always cleaned Levi’s table twice and had peppermint tea stocked even when the café was closed. He might have even heard me crying at night over how much I just wanted to see Levi again when he’d crashed on my couch… and every time I did that, he wanted it to be him. 

I couldn’t deny our relationship and try to make him feel better about himself. He knew and had heard everything we had said to each other that night. I’d have to face this feeling head on and I didn’t want to. I just didn’t want to tell Jonas that it will never be him. It was better to have him in limbo and still have my friend then to break his heart completely and never see him again. Jonas was my first friend and is my best friend. He was there the first day I was above ground. He was there for me when Samias broke my heart. He knows almost everything about me, but here I was about to lose him over something I couldn’t control. I wasn’t going to give up Levi so that Jonas would feel better. 

That probably hurt him even more though; me lying to him about Levi. 

“How much are you going to hate me after I tell you everything?” I was hesitant to tell him anything. I know deep down he wanted to know all about Levi and I. He wanted to see where his shortcomings were and judge Levi’s actions and intent. He wanted to be able to reach deep down and find some string of hope in one of Levi’s downfalls. However, this emotion he’s had was pent up for months.

“I’m never going to hate you, Ev. That’s the problem.” I let the tears fall then and curled up into a ball on the counter top. This wasn’t the Jonas I liked talking to. This was the Jonas that made you feel every emotion he was going through too so that you gave him pity. You wanted to love Jonas because you didn’t want to see your best friend hurting like this. It was my fault that he was hurting and I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t do what he wanted me to.

I knew he was in pain when he didn’t move to comfort me like he usually does. Whenever I would cry, he would always be next to me, a soothing hand on my back. I would never shy away from it before, but looking at the situation now, I wish I would have created that distance. It was good that he didn’t do that because it would have made the situation worse. We just sat there and I tried to mute my cries with my arm. It wasn’t working. 

“One day he’s going to die, Eva. If he doesn’t leave you before that.” Now he was trying to hurt me directly. Maybe he thought if he broke me enough, I’d go to him and not Levi. 

I didn’t answer him as I was too busy choking on my tears. 

“He won’t marry you. He won’t give you kids. He can’t give you anything you want in the future if he knows someday he won’t have one.” I wanted to beg him to stop. He doesn’t think at night, when all I have are the thoughts to pull me out of loneliness, I don’t think about all of this? Will I be happy with just Levi or will I want more and he can’t provide that? Can I not be up to his standards? After Hange mentioned kids, I thought about how horrible it would be for them to live in a world like this. We’re fighting to stay alive and to eat, and their father would be gone for months on end. I didn’t want to think about the future and Jonas was forcing me to. All the negative emotions I tried to push back in these past months were coming to the surface with every word. 

“Does he really like you or are you there just to fulfill his fantasy of a relationship? What man leaves the woman he loves alone for six months?” I clenched my jaw hard. His words started to stab too deep.

“Shut up.” It was soft and muffled by the sounds of my tears, but he heard it. He was waiting for my response. He wanted to see if I agreed or not; to see if he broke me enough. 

“Eva, I know you know what I’m saying is the truth.  It’s best to stop this game of pretend before it’s too late.” 

Pretend. 

I pull my hands into fists and shot up on the counter. I was angry again now. He didn’t get to call my relationship a game. Whatever feelings of loneliness or sadness that Jonas wanted to make me feel had left instantly as he mentioned playing pretend. 

“You are the one who’s playing pretend! Pretending that I’ll come around and pick you. Jonas, if I wanted you, it wouldn’t have taken over ten years to realize it!” This time his face contorted into some type of negative emotion. His plan didn’t work. I didn’t cave like I normally do. 

“You’re pressuring me into something that I don’t want to do all because you don’t like that Levi makes you feel inferior. He’s stronger, smarter, and now he’s taken your girl from you. You know why? Look at this,” I gestured to him with both of my hands, “Levi has never talked to me at me like this. He would never call me stupid or try and insult me enough to change my mind. You’re right, I haven’t seen him for six months, but in that time he’s written more sincere words than you have ever said to me. I don’t care what Levi does and doesn’t give me, and I know you won’t be able to give me what I want either. Not like this!” I threw my left hand to my side and took the silence to catch my breath. 

“Eva.” It was angry and heavy. He wasn’t ready for me to come back at him like that. He never thought I could talk to him like he talks to me. 

“I have supported you through everything you have done. The countless girlfriends, the times when you were kicked out of your house, when you didn’t have a job; I was the one who comforted you and took you in. Now, I make a decision that hurts your feelings and you can’t live with it? You have to degrade me for who I choose to date, only because it’s not you?!” He stood up too, the chair flying back and hitting the floor. He stood almost a foot above me, but I wasn't backing down. 

“You will never understa-” 

“You’re right, Jonas. I will never love you the way that you love me, and I will never understand how you treat someone you love like this.”

It was tonight. I had always thought about when this would end. When Jonas and I would stop playing pretend. When I would stop pretending not to see how he looks at me across the café. When I would stop pretending that my best friend didn’t only have feelings for me and wouldn’t choose anyone else. When I would stop pretending I didn’t have to hurt him like this one day. Tonight was the night this friendship ended because he couldn’t pretend we were just friends anymore. 

“How long have you been with him?” The air had quieted and so did his voice. His face was now a mixture of anger and sadness, and he turned his eyes to look at the ground. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say when answering the question, but I was done hiding it from him. Even if it hurt him, he had to know. He had to stop playing pretend and be snapped into the reality he lived in. 

“Around Spring Equinox till now.” His fist clenched harder. 

“So you missed Spring Equinox with us to be with him?” I thought about this moment the day I didn’t show up. He never asked me where I was when he saw me and he must have assumed I just didn’t want to go out then. I’d even told Levi that I was going to be in a weird situation if Jonas asked me where I was and he helped me make a plan. A plan to lie to him. I guess that plan just flew out the window. 

“He was injured and I was taking care of him. I wasn’t going to leave him,” I let the last line out, underlaid with some remorse. I was angry with what he was saying and how he was coming at me, but I was at fault too. I should have told him sooner or at least tried to distance myself. 

“I don’t think I’m going to be in tomorrow, Eva.” He said, still not looking up at me. This was the softest he had even been. I think now he knew he couldn’t sway me towards him. He was giving up.

“Jonas-”

“No,” he held his hand up, finally looking at me with the faint gleam of tears in his eyes, “I’m going to be sick tomorrow and maybe the next day. So, don’t come looking for me.” He turned his back and I had to stop my hand from reaching out and touching his shoulder. I was angry at him, but unlike him I didn’t see this as a reason to end our friendship. It was coming, yes, but it didn’t have to end here. We’d change something. We’d adapt. He was acting like he’d completely given up that. 

“Jonas, you’re still my best friend.” He stopped at the door and straightened up. He was stiff and lifeless when he answered. It was fake and he was hiding his true emotion. If he turned around, what expression would I see on his face? 

“I know.” 

The door opened and closed, the bells ringing twice above it. With the windows closed, I couldn’t see if we walked away and I didn’t go up to the door in fear of him just sitting on the stoop. I didn’t want to hear his tears. Jonas rarely cried and I didn’t want to know that I was the person who did it to him. 

I turned to look at the clock at the back wall. It was nearly one. 

Anger. At him. At myself. Sadness. For him. For losing my best friend in some shape or form. Regret. For not telling him any sooner. But, if I told him, wouldn’t the situation still end up like this? He would yell at me, I would cry, and he would tell me how irrational it was to love someone like Levi. A fantasy he called it. It set the seed of doubt in my head. Levi hadn’t loved or liked before as far as I knew, not to the capacity we’ve set up. Was he really just using this as a test run? 

I put my towel down on the table and decided I didn’t want to be in the café anymore. I wanted to be in my bed, two blankets over me, thinking over and over again the conversation I had with Jonas. Where did I go wrong? When? I wouldn’t sleep tonight and I would be sluggish in the morning when Ben came. Ben was smart, too. He would probably connect the dots between Jonas’s absence and my attitude, but at least he never questioned. 

Walking up the back stairs, I tried to listen to see if Jonas was still there. Maybe something would pull me to go back to him and try to talk it out. I don’t think this issue can be talked over though. It was going to be the way it was. As of now, it was Levi and I, not Jonas and I. It would take Jonas months to turn around or feel like talking to me. It may not go back to normal. 

That thought stopped me on the last wooden step. What would I do if Jonas and I never went back to normal? He was a big part of my day and of my life. Every holiday, every arithmetic question I couldn’t answer, every broken heart; I was with him. It made so much sense to be with him permanently, but that’s not how life wanted it to be. If I was to be with Jonas, I was sure, it would have happened already. I would have feelings for him to the same degree he has for me. 

Maybe we shouldn’t go back to normal as that normal was fake. Pretend. Would it hurt Jonas more to act that way, knowing that Levi was one step ahead of him in every regard? Or, would it be better for him to keep distance and ignore me so he won’t have to deal with the pain he feels every time he’s around me now?

I shook my head and walked in. This was for me to think about, slightly drunk, and in two hours. 

“Here, for you.” Levi handed me a single flower as we sat in the meadow. He had found it on the ground next to where we were sitting and I laughed a little at the gesture before putting it on my ear. He looked at it too and smiled faintly, going back to look at the Scout HQ that was quite a distance away. No one would see us on our way back to Trost. 

I told Levi that I wanted to stop and sit since it was such a nice day. The spring was bringing warm winds to our area, and the whole time I had been with him we were inside his dimly lit office. We were far away enough from Trost and the HQ to be alone and outside. I thought of Jonas and the Equinox today. Where would he be sitting out here? 

“Thank you, Captain.” He laid back, still wincing a little at the pain in his ribs. The horse ride was a bit too much for him to handle, and we had to walk our horses out here to the open meadow. No doubt he would bear the pain to get me to the gates of Trost before we parted. Maybe I would convince him to walk so we had more time together. 

“After this expedition, I would like to start.” I looked over to him, putting a piece of the Scout’s cracker ration in my mouth. Did he have some hobby? 

“Start what?”

“Trying to be yours. I have no experience being in a relationship with someone, therefore, when I can give you my full attention, I will do that. I’ve never made you food. I will do that first.” It made my heart strangely warm, him always announcing his intentions. Maybe he felt that they needed to be approved. He was so apprehensive about anything, and he was not used to being wrong. In this uncharted territory, he needed to make sure he was right before he executed anything. So, I nodded. 

“I’m not picky when it comes to food.” Once he got his confirmation, he went to stand up. I just looked up at him as he did it. 

“Yes?” He put out his hand for me to take it. I just stared up at him again, smiling. I’d tease him a bit more because he was leaving soon. 

“So does that mean we’re really dating?” He rolled his eyes and his hand dropped. The nice gesture went away. 

“Did I not make it clear before? I said I required monogamy.” I shook my head, no.

“You have to ask me. You can’t just command me into a relationship with you.” He cocked up an eyebrow. 

“Ask? Why do I need to ask you when you already know?” I rolled my eyes at him and took another bite of the cracker. 

“We aren’t dating until you ask me to be your girlfriend.” He scoffed. 

“Girlfriend is a word for teenagers. We are almost thirty.” 

“Ask me.” 

“No.” 

“You have to.”

“No, I don’t.” I huffed and turned my head to the other side, faking anger. I knew he probably wasn’t going to do it anyways, and I didn’t really care, but it would be fun to hear. 

“Ask me or I’ll just sit here all day,” I said, folding my arms. There was no protest, or huff of annoyance. He was probably standing there with the same pose I had, just waiting for me to get this idea out of my head.

Huff. Huff. Huff. 

“Don’t tell me you-” I turned and screamed, scrambling to get away from what was to my right. It stood there, his body broken in it’s mouth. His eyes were stained with blood, and were looking at me, begging me to do something, anything. 

The titan crunched down once more on Levi’s body, and only a puff of air came out of his mouth. Not a cry for help. His body went limp, eyes wide staring into my soul. 

Help. Help. Help. 

I shot up, holding my head. My body was shaking and I was afraid to open my eyes. The bustle of customers could be heard below and I knew I had fallen asleep late in the morning and overslept till now. Ben would be holding the customers down fine, and I needed the extra minutes to calm myself down. 

Was that dream an omen? Was he dead? 

It left a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn’t shake, so I got up to get water. I needed to get this taste out of my mouth. Once I drank the water, I leaned over the sink and it came right back up. The shaking of my body stopped after I’d thrown up, but the feeling in my stomach was still there. Maybe I was just hungover. I had a whole bottle of wine while thinking my life away last night. Usually I was fine, but the emotions tied to the amount of alcohol I had could be making my stomach twist and turn. 

Setting the cup down, I quickly went to put on clothes and try to put something on my face to cover the dark circles. The clock was at ten, and I knew that soon Ben would hear my footsteps upstairs using his years of training his ears to identify the creaks of this building and yell up at me to come down. If Jonas really wasn’t here, he was having to remember how to make various coffee drinks himself. 

One day he’s going to die, Eva.

I help my stomach again, trying to position myself over the bathroom sink and not get the face powder all over the floor. When nothing came up, I tried to push that thought out of my mind and finish covering the dark circles under my eyes. To a trained eye, aka Ben, you could easily see through the layer of powder. Hopefully, it will last all work day so I won’t get comments on my tiredness. Those were my least favorite. 

“Eva!” It was muffled by the floorboards, but with one quick look in the mirror, I went to walk to the door. 

Does he really like you or are you there just to fulfill his fantasy of a relationship? 

Stopping on the stairs, I leaned over the railing, hoping that if I did vomit again, it would be away from a window so the customers didn’t notice a projectile falling from the sky. I’d have to get another drink of water before I started or else this hangover was going to kill me. 

I pushed the back door open, taking a look at the plastic one that separated me from the café. People were in there, sitting, talking, and buying pastries. I could hear them and it scared me. My first day open, and I’m in this condition? That wasn’t going to be the best look for business. I was also scared because this was the first customer rush I had in months. It was like my first day running the shop all over again. 

This time my stomach bubbled up with nerves and before I could turn back outside, Ben opened the door peeking in at me. He definitely saw the condition I was in, and had to take a double take. Now, the dots started to connect in his head. Did Jonas look like this to when Ben tried to wake him up only to discover he was “sick”? 

“There’s a line of people out here waiting to be served and to talk to you. I suggest you hurry out, yeah?” I just stared at him and nodded once, tying the matching apron around my middle. 

“Yeah.” Even my voice was shaking. He closed the door again and I picked up a random cup, filling it with water from the sink, and downing it in a few seconds. I coughed once, hoping it would help my throat, and despite my stomach, I walked out into the main café. 

“Eva!” 

“Miss Eva, it’s been so long!” The crowd of people at the counter greeted with smiles, and I did my best to give one back. It was comforting, their words, but my stomach still felt like shit. So did my head. And my arms. And legs. Either way, I willed myself to the crowd that was blocking my view into the café. Ben had done a good job curbing them because he didn’t know how to make a latte. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here, Eva. Ben’s a little rusty.” I smiled to the man who’s order I had memorized, but not his name, and took the personal cup he had in his hands. Ben tended the money while I turned my back to make the drinks. 

“I’ll pass, you make, pass back?” I turned over my shoulder to nod at him and this new angle made me catch a view of the table. The Wings of Freedom were draped over the chair and he was leaning back with the new addition of a book in his hand. There was no cup in front of him, nor was he staring out at the window anymore. 

Six months. 

My stomach churned again and before I could answer Ben, I had to run into the back, past the plastic door, open the regular door, and throw up in front of the trash can where the stray dogs like to eat our scraps.

I’d have to pass it off and I took another big gulp of water before picking up some random milk jug to bring it up. I hoped I didn’t wipe off the face powder that took ten minutes to apply. When I walked back in, people seemed shocked I had run so fast into the back, but once they saw the milk jug, they settled back down. Ben didn’t let it get past him that I’d set the new milk jug next to a completely full one on the table and went to work. 

We went back and forth for what felt like hours. He’d collect the money, write the order on a piece of paper, I’d make it, and he’d go set it down on their table or give it for them to go. We didn’t talk at all while I did it, and I only engaged with other customers. When I looked at him, he never looked back, just down at the book. When I looked at him… my stomach churned, but with a different feeling now that I was pretty sure all the alcohol was in my sink or by the trash in the back. I wanted him to look at me, or to come hug me, but he was Captain Levi right now. 

My dream. What was my dream about? He was here and he was alive, so it couldn’t have been an omen. Was it triggered by my fight with Jonas? Levi dying? It was a simple memory, but it had morphed into something graphic and depressing. He’d asked me to be his girlfriend, reluctantly, but why didn’t my dream get to that part? Why did it cut it off there? I just tried to mock it up as another drunken dream, ones I used to have often, and maybe a few times in the past months, but something wouldn’t let me mark it as that. 

“Eva!” I turned at the little boy’s call and saw all three of them at the counter. I was zoning out so much. Elias, June, and their father were there and I smiled at them, starting their orders. Elias and June: steamed apple juice. Their father: a cup of coffee, no cream, two sugars. 

“Where’s the boy? I thought Jonas said he was working today.” I froze up at their father’s question and I saw Ben glance back at me before answering.

“He felt really sick this morning and could barely get out of bed when I tried to wake him up. He slept at our house last night and came back really late, so he might have been out and drank himself sick,” he tsk-ed his son, but I knew that his message was really meant for me, “Dark circles, a bad attitude, and his face was all red. I’m glad he didn’t show up today.” I turned to them, handing the two steamed apple juices. Before I could turn back around, they started a conversation with me. I could barely focus on it with Ben’s gaze boring holes into me. 

“Eva, Mr. Chapel said I could start on my own books now! Isn’t that exciting?!” I smiled down at her and nodded. In the place in my brain that could still process a little emotion this afternoon, I was happy for her. 

“That’s amazing, June. I have some books upstairs that need to be rebound.” Ben had given their father his coffee and he was now pulling the kids to go. He probably had some cult stuff to do and just wanted to stop by for his morning cup like he normally does.

“Eva, do you need help on year-end? Like last year? With Jonas?” Elias’s face begged up at me to say yes. He wanted to know if we would do something like last year. With no festival, it would be hard to entertain them… and with no Jonas… 

“I don’t know about it his year, Elias.” His face dropped and he was pulled away by his father before he could ask why. I saw June looking disappointed as well as they walked out the door. When Ben turned to greet the next customer, I felt another pair of eyes on me. I looked up at him and felt my heart flip as we locked eyes. His were filled with concern and I knew he’d heard the exchange Elias and I just had. I had always taken the kids in for year-end, so why not now? 

The day went like that. My stomach never settled down, and I could barely keep up the energy of the people coming in and out to talk. Ben would mostly fill that job, but whenever the customer wanted to talk to me directly, I stared at the back wall, mustering a smile, and turned to act. I was glad that I’d decided to close earlier than usual so I wouldn’t have to go through a dinner rush either. My mind was tired from thinking over and over again about last night and the dream I had, that I could barely handle any more stimulus. 

Levi had sat there all day, reading through the book at least twice. I could feel his eyes on me throughout the day, but if I looked back into his eyes, my dream would play over again and my stomach would fight with me. He must have noticed, but he never approached me. Ben and the wave of people coming in and out must have stopped him, or he was waiting for me to go over and serve him tea. It was sitting right on top of the coffee filter box, ready to be made, but I could never pull myself to do it. I wanted to go over and talk to him, but with the amount of people here, I would be talking to Captain Levi. I decided to wait until close, knowing he would stay, so I could talk to the real him after months of waiting. The dream made my stomach feel awful, but the idea of having Levi back to me again made the butterflies stir too. 

“Alright, what’s up with the two of you?” Ben put the small bag of flour back up on the stock rack as I mopped the flour on the back room’s floor. It was closing, and I insisted that he could leave the cleaning to me, but I knew from the second I walked in to the café, he was ready to corner me and ask questions. I still feigned innocence.

“Two of whom?” He huffed and wiped off excess flour on the apron I left him. It didn’t help my case that I couldn’t look him in the eyes when I answered. I didn’t want to stare into Jonas’s eyes. 

“Jonas comes to our house drunk, red face, and mumbling things under his breath. He almost broke Analee’s favorite vase trying to take his shoes off. I thought it was a bit weird because he’d have to come back from your place, but maybe you two decided to do something. I didn’t care. Then, I drag his dead body weight onto the couch and he tells me he can’t come to the café tomorrow and starts crying. I mark it up to him being drunk off his ass. Come today, and you’re not up early like you usually are. I guess I thought you’d be as drunk as Jonas, and gave you a few hours. You come down here, looking pale as a ghost, go throw up outside by the trash can,” He pointed his thumb to the back door, “and anytime someone mentions Jonas, your face goes pale over and over again. You probably drank at least thirty glasses of water today… I really don't want you to answer this question, but I have to ask it. He’s my son, sure, but you’re also my little sister… also weird to say, but you know what I’m trying to get to…” Ben didn’t want to have to finish his statement and trailed off, trying to get me to fill in the blank. Did he think we… ? I pulled my face into a look of disgust, but still didn’t look at his face. 

“Are you trying to ask if he and I had-” He frantically waved his hands at me.

“Please, please, please. Spare me. I realized I don’t want the answer to that question anymore right as it came out of you mou-” I stopped him there. 

“We fought. That’s what happened.” He dropped his hands and let out a big sigh of relief. He was happy we only fought, because he could deal with that. He’d been dealing with that for years already. Mediator Ben was about to come out. 

“Thank gods. What did you fight about this time? Both of you look very upset.” He leaned against a random table, and I had stopped sweeping at this point. I didn’t want to tell Ben, but there was just something about him that made the words flow out. He’s always been like that, regardless of the situation. Comfortable to talk to about any and everything. When I first got my monthly cycle, I went to him and not Catrin, who was the obvious choice. Then later in life, Jonas started to take the same position in my life that Ben had. That made me feel worse again, losing him over something I had to be selfish with. If Jonas felt he couldn’t let go of whatever it was, I would permanently lose him. 

“I think this is the final time, Ben.” He sighed, probably not knowing what that meant. If I told him what the fight was really about, he would have to learn about Levi and I. I shifted my gaze to the plastic door separating us from the main café. Was he still sitting in his chair, waiting for us to kick him out? Waiting for me to lead him up the stairs to my apartment? 

“Did he bring up marriage again? When we were walking to meet up with you, I had mentioned something about it and he seemed to get quiet. Usually, he denies anything like that would happen.” So it was mentioned previously, that’s why it was on his mind. When Ben mentioned it to him, did his mind go to Levi and I?

“Yes,” I whispered, and set the mop against the wall. I was ready to spill all of my feelings to Ben like I always do. 

“Then, is it that man out there?” He pointed at the door and this time I looked him in the eyes. It was like admitting everything to Jonas all over again and it made my stomach twist and turn. I knew Ben’s opinions on the matter, too, so it was worse having to go against his wishes. 

“Yes,” I whispered again, waiting to see a streak of disappointment in his eyes that never came. He just sighed again and walked over to me, putting a hand on my back. 

“He was the first customer today and seemed annoyed that I was standing there instead of you. I was the one who gave him the book. I told him he’d have to wait a few hours to see you, and then another few to get to talk to you after lunch. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t see the way he kept looking at you either.” I clasped my hands together, looking at them. It made me a little less sad that he could see Levi’s emotions as well. Ben didn’t think it was fake like Jonas did. 

“I had a bad dream last night, too… and a few too many drinks. I’m just so… I don’t want to lose Jonas. This felt like it was it, Ben.” I put a hand over my heart and rubbed my collar bone with one finger. Ben shook his head ‘no’ and patted my back. 

“The kid can be moody, but he’ll come around. It may take him a bit longer than usual, but you two are best friends. He’ll just have to deal with the fact that it’s going to really stay like that now. I guess I didn’t help either, talking about you two the way I did.” I shook my head, making sure Ben didn’t take the blame away from me. 

“No, I did this. I didn’t tell him about… I didn’t distance myself from him and-” 

“Do you really think that if you tried to distance yourself from Jo, it would’ve worked? He once came home from secondary begging me to ask the teacher to transfer him to your class. He can’t be away from you for too long, no matter what emotions he has tied to it.” I laughed once at that comment, remembering the day Jonas randomly showed up at a desk next to mine. I reached up to wipe a tear off of my cheek. 

“I still feel awful. It’s my fault I made him feel like this.” Ben rolled his eyes. 

“I’m going to go home and he’s going to have this same conversation with me. You both fight like cats and dogs, and then feel bad that you said anything in the first place. He could have broken your arm and you’d still feel like it was your fault.”

“Yeah.” Ben did make me feel a little better, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling of regret. We sat for a few more minutes as I calmed down and my stomach hurt a little less. 

“Now, that boy out there. He’s the Captain of the Scouts, but I have to threaten him. I know he’s still sitting out there, if you just let me-” 

“Ben.”

“I’m serious. I was close to going over and telling him to stop looking at you. It’s annoying. Like that one kid you dated in the past.” It was my turn to roll my eyes at him. 

“Ben, I’m twenty seven.” Before I could protest more, he lunged at the door to open it. 

“Hey, you.” I quickly raced out of the back room, watching Ben walk his way over to Levi who had grabbed a rag and was cleaning the tops of the tables. 

“Ben-” Levi turned to give me a confused look as to why the giant man was walking towards him. They’ve probably only spoken two sentences to each other and now Levi was going to get reprimanded by Ben. 

“You’re dating my sister, correct?” Levi’s eyes widened a little bit, not expecting Ben to come right out with it. He probably also didn’t expect Ben to know anything, but with how obvious Levi had acted today, it wasn’t a surprise. Ben picked up on things probably to the same degree Levi did. 

“U-u-uh, we are?” He did the same thing I’d done to Erwin, and when he looked over at me again, confusion painting his face, I just nodded once, “Y-yes. We are…” A faint tint of blush painted his pale face. Mine was probably the same way. This was the first time he had admitted that out loud to someone from my world. 

“If you hurt her, I’ll beat you up. Her last boyfriend, he couldn’t walk for two days after Jonas and I jumped him.” He pointed his finger at Levi who didn’t seem that concerned about the threat. Ben was also lying, because he wouldn’t lay a hand on anyone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben swat at a fly, let alone a human. 

“My intentions are not to hurt her.” Ben took off his apron and slammed it down on the table Levi had just finished cleaning. Flour dust went everywhere. This was quite the show he was putting on. Levi, however, didn’t know he was playing with him. He was trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, because he didn’t want to, in some way, offend Ben and make him angrier, but he was also getting annoyed with the man’s display. If Ben was to come at him, would he be permitted to slam him on the ground, or would that just make this whole situation worse? Levi didn’t want to beat up my brother, which was nice. 

“What are your intentions then?” Levi was not going to like expressing his feelings aloud to a stranger, so I saved him from Ben who I knew was trying his hardest not to laugh. 

“Ben, just let him go. I have to clean more and you’re keeping me from dinner.” I think Ben was also glad I gave him an out because I heard that Analee was making porridge for dinner and that was Ben’s favorite. 

Ben walked a bit forward, using his height to tower over Levi. This time, Levi’s face hardened. If I did get Ben away from Levi, Ben might end up on the ground. 

“Next time, Captain.” Ben retreated back and grabbed his jacket, turning to me with a smile. 

“Have a nice night, Ev! I assume I won’t need to come tomorrow?” He glanced over at Levi who was now extremely confused at Ben’s 180 degree flip. 

“No, I think I can handle myself tomorrow. Thanks Ben!” He raised his hand up and waved once, exiting the café. There was a moment of silence as the ringing of the door bells finally stopped and Levi turned to me, that expression still on his face. 

“W-wha..?” I smiled at the door, not disregarding the butterflies that came to my stomach now that I was finally alone with Levi for the first time in six months. 

“That’s Ben, my brother.” His face dropped to his regular look and nodded. 

“I can tell.” I huffed and grabbed Ben’s apron, hanging it up behind the counter. I decided to clean the counter and wait to see what Levi was going to do. Heaven knew I wanted to run up into his arms, but again, the vow I took held me back. 

To my surprise, he moved to behind the counter after cleaning the flour from the last table. He put the rag down on the back table and stood there, staring at me for a bit. I just disregarded his stare and kept cleaning the counter and glass case which was ridden with Ben’s handprints from the amount of times he leaned on it. 

“I’m going to hug you.” I left out a huff of laughter and didn’t move, signaling that he could do what he wanted. 

“I told you, you don’t have to say it alo-” His arms went around my waist, chest touching my back, and his head nuzzled into my neck. I also melted right there and then. Who taught him how to hug like this? I used my free hand to reach up and play with his hair, leaning my cheek onto the top of his head. 

“Hi,” I said, breathing in his scent. It’s been so long, the shirt he gave me had lost its smell, so it was nice to have it back. It was also nice that he had given me such an intimate display of affection after how long he’d been away. It told me that he missed me as much as his letters would insinuate. Maybe even equal as much as I missed him. 

He lifted himself up, leaving one arm wrapped around my waist. 

“I thought I’d personally deliver this letter to you,” he handed me the envelope with my name written on it. 

“Do you come with the letter?” I turned to face him and blushed at our closeness. He looked down at me slightly, examining my face. I’d cried the face powder off in the back, so my dark circles were at full force.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself again.” It was low and had a tinge of disappointment in it. I looked up at him, examining his face. Tired. Large dark circles. Nothing out of the ordinary, but I could still yell at him for it. 

“I can say the same for you, Captain.” I reached up and put my hand on his cheek like the last night we had together. I figured that wouldn’t be off limits and I felt his face heat up a little before pulling back to lean against the back table across from me. He had hit his daily cap for affection and needed to cool off. 

“Erwin gave me the rest of the month off. So, I guessed that the best place to stay was here. He also told me to go see you after my work was done, and then proceeded to give me one more month’s worth of work.” He crossed his arms, his face pulling into one of annoyance for Erwin’s actions. 

“I did ask him to give you more breaks, but he didn’t promise me anything.” His eyes narrowed at the mention of our meeting. 

“Don’t think you three can keep it a secret about what you talked about. I told them I’d get you to tell me.” I smirked back up at him. 

“They aren’t telling you what we said?” 

“No details. I just know they asked you about us and to support the Scouts, and you accepted. I know that they left out everything important and Hange always laughs when I try to get her to tell me.” I guess I’d have to keep up this secret promise with Hange and Erwin. 

“Well, if they aren’t telling you, then I guess I can’t either, Levi. It was a confidential meeting, you know how that goes.” He shot off the table, pushing my stomach into the one I was cleaning. His arms were on either side of me, trapping me against the wood. My heart beat shot up at this sudden, aggressive touch, and I almost jumped as I felt his breath on the right side on my neck. This was the first time he had done something like this. Intimidating, aggressive, and very exciting. My heart wasn’t the only thing that fluttered when he whispered into my ear. 

“I have ways of getting you to tell me, Eva.” He lingered there for a few moments before pushing away and going back to rest on the table. I had to take at least ten breaths to calm myself down, and my face was still definitely the color of a cherry. That was the first time Levi had done something so… hot. One moment, he was pushing back because he was getting uncomfortable with the affection, and another he was shoving me up against the counter, making my brain race a million miles a second with the things I was imagining. The ways to get me to talk. Levi wasn’t like that was he? Did he have experience with that? He did live in the Underground and was extremely good looking, I’m sure he had girls at his feet at some point. It made me curious about his life in the Underground again… and what or who he did there. 

“I-I’m… done cleaning. We can go up to the up, upstairs.” He didn’t even hesitate and slung his cape around his shoulders, following me to the front to lock the café. 

We walked upstairs without saying anything, Levi walking a few steps behind me. He had retrieved a bag from the side of the alleyway and my eyes widened. I didn’t think he’d be staying here the whole rest of the month. That was almost three weeks. I remembered how dirty I had left it this morning and the empty bottle of wine next to my bed. 

Once we got inside, he set his bag on the couch and took off his boots and cape, hanging it up. I was a bit upset he didn’t take off the ODM gear straps, because now that he had done that little act downstairs, my mind was thinking about them. I had felt the buckle of the one on his chest dig into my back ever so lightly. 

“Did you really forget what I looked like? Stop staring at me.” He mumbled it, but it made me blush a bit and stare at the ground. Did he know what I was thinking about him? How did he get so bold in the last few minutes? 

“Can I shower? The ride here was long, and I sat in the back of the cart on some dirty hay.” 

“O-oh. Yes, you can. It’s that door right there, but you knew that already didn’t you. Sorry.” He smiled and laughed once, digging through his bag for his shower supplies. I just watched him as he did it, staring at the mundane task and letting my mind run wild. I don’t think he’s ever taken a shower here before. 

Without saying anything else, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. I instantly let out a breath of frustration, but the room did cool down after he left. 

“He’s bold when being like that, but he’s still afraid of sleeping next to me?” I shook those thoughts out of my head and blinked when the bathroom door opened a little bit, the light shining through my dark apartment. 

“I forgot soap for my body, do you have any?” He yelled out. 

“Uh, there should be some in the cabinet below the sink. It’s Jonas’s.” I heard the cabinet open, along with a little grumble about ‘Why is he in your shower?’ before I heard them close again. 

“I don’t see it.” I did not want to go into that tiny bathroom and show him, but I knew that’s where this was going to end if I sent him on a hunt. I’d just let him use mine. 

“There’s a bottle in the shower. It’s glass and has pink liquid in it? You can use mine. I hope you don’t mind rose.” I heard the shower curtain rip back and a tiny laugh. 

“There’s about twelve bottles with pink liquid in them, Eva.” That was simply false. All of my shampoos, conditioners, and soaps were different colors. He wanted me to come in there and show him. I started walking slowly to the door. 

“It should be on the second shelf.” 

“Just come here and show me, I don’t have the patience.” There it was, and I was already halfway to the bathroom anyways. Ignoring my heart, I opened the door. 

“It should be in…” My eyes widened as he leaned against the sink, giving me access to walk to the shower as the room was only meant for one person at a time. My eyes widened as he leaned against the sink shirtless. I instantly flushed and something churned in the pit of my stomach. I glanced for one more second, and pushed on after seeing his smirk. I shoved myself up against the other wall, so there was no way for me to touch him as I walked past to the open shower. There the soap was and it was even labeled. I gripped hard around the bottle, turning to shove it into his hands. I tried so, so hard to only look at his face. When I glanced down at his chest again and back up, his smirk got deeper. It made me angry, but it also made me want to look even more. 

His body was completely toned and looked like it had no ounce fat on it. He was completely lean like I predicted in our last encounter in a bathroom. Every single possible muscle was defined in a sleek way that was easy for him to hide this… this Adonis of a figure beneath a regular shirt. His waist was probably smaller than mine and shoulders broad from carrying the heavy ODM gear on them for years, but I didn’t try to get another look at it as I walked past him, pressing up against the wall again. 

“I told you I’d let you see it when I got back,” he said jokingly as he set the bottle down on the sink. My face was burning and I didn’t dare turn around to look at him again as much as I wanted to. I had a free pass to look at him all I wanted if I took it, but I was too embarrassed right now. This combined with what happened downstairs wanted to make me scream. How long had he thought of doing this? The first time he’s seen me in six months and this is what he planned. 

“I-I’ll make food!” I half yelled, getting out of the small bathroom that was heating up to a hundred degrees. I could hear him laugh a little bit before closing the door behind me. The air outside was so much cooler, it gave me goosebumps and I stood out there for a bit, waiting to hear the shower turn on. When it did, I went to the kitchen and instantly sat in front of the open ice box trying to cool down my face. 

“Why are you like this, Eva? It’s not like you haven’t seen a shirtless man before. You’ve seen more than one and you’re never like this.” I hit my cheeks over and over again, trying to get them to cool down. No man I’ve been with before could go from sulky and hesitant one minute to making a heat pool in the depths of my stomach in thirty seconds. 

The shower stopped and I closed the fridge quickly, taking out eggs to act like I was using them. I had no clue what I was going to make to eat and I’d spent ten minutes staring at an open fridge. 

When he walked out, I almost broke the egg in my hand. He walked over to his bag on the couch, searching for clothes. The heat that I’d gotten rid of came back, and I finally turned away from the indecent sight. Just a towel?! 

“Sorry, I forgot to grab another pair of clothes.”

Chapter Twelve →

Chapter Masterlist

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi attack on titan #aot #aot levi #snk #snk levi #captain levi #levi heichou #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #original character

[rigmarolling]

Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back

Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.

Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:

1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia

Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring. 

Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.

Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.

During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.

Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive. 

The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry. 

Above: Me, except all the time.

Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”

Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.

(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)

2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property

The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt. 

Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.

Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).

That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

Because Odin could be kind of a dick.

Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.

And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”

“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”

“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”

So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.

He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.

Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.

Above: Santa, but so much worse.

To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.

To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.

They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet. 

People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship. 

(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)

Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer. 

And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.

If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager. 

So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.

3. Yule Logs

Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:

...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?

But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.

This served a few purposes: 

It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.

It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.

It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.

Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.

Winter cold. Fire warm.

Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)

The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.

In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.

(Quick note:  The word “yule” is  the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)

4. Upside down Christmas trees

I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.

Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.

Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:

Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.

A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.

Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads. 

(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)

Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so. 

Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.

5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards

So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)

The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.

Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:

What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws? 

What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?

And then there’s this one:

“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging. 

What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”

Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?

Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?

Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)

But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.

This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.

I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:

Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.

This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:

I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.

If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”

Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it. 

Wait, no. We can also use this one:

Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.

#victorian #listory #christmas #holidays #mythtory #norse mythology #odin

[outroego-hobi]

(Gift) For You. 🎁 | jjk

➳ Pairing: jungkook x reader

➳ Genre: fluff, established!relationship AU

➳ Word Count: 2.1k

➳ Synopsis: Jungkook seems to be on edge a few hours before the clock strikes 12 at Christmas.

➳ Warnings: some cursing (it’s just a few words)

A/N: Here it is, my first fic! I was planning on posting this at least 2-3 days before Christmas, but I had a lot of doubt with this one. 🙁 I know that this is still lacking in (many) ways, but I hope you still enjoy reading it. 🥺 I hope this isn’t too late as a Christmas treat. Happy holidays! 🎄🎁 

(gif not mine, credits to the owner!)

Things are doing great, well, fine, perfect, IF you were to ask him, but in reality, Jungkook is panicking.

He made sure everything is perfect, from your couch filled with pillows and blankets that are meant only to be ‘used during Christmas’ (as per your words), your favorite holiday songs playing softly in the background, and of course, the 7 feet Christmas tree that serves to be the star of your living room, filled with ornaments and polaroid photos of you together, some with his hyungs, your and his family, and friends. He made sure that all of your requests are granted, as he wanted to make this celebration perfect. But one thing is missing. Perhaps one of the most important thing. His gift. For you. His gift for you is missing. Gone. Nada.

That brings us to the current situation, with him pacing around the living room, trying to find that small, silver box wrapped with a green and red ribbon, and a greeting card attached to it. How could that small box be gone out of all things?! At this time?! He tried looking everywhere, on every corner, but it seems like luck really isn’t on his side today. “Okay Jungkook, think, think, think. Where did you last put it?” He told himself, while trying not to go on full panic mode and trash the whole living room he just arranged. He was muttering to himself, concentrating heavily on remembering that he didn’t realize the front door opening and closing.

“I’m home!”

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Shit. I’m doomed.” He hurriedly went to the hallway, almost tripping on his way, leading to the front door, immediately leaning on the wall with his arms crossed, trying to act as calm as he possibly can.

“Yeah I know, I heard the door, opening and closing, you know?” He snorted, staring at you by the wall with his body leaning on it, arms crossed, making his biceps flex under his thin, (almost) see-through shirt. “Well, a little help wouldn’t hurt you know? These bags aren’t very light, thank you very much.” You stomped your foot on the rug, trying to dust off the snow that got stuck on your boot. “Alright princess, no need to be grumpy. It’s the holiday season, didn’t that one Christmas song said, ‘tis the season to be jolly?” He pinched your cheeks before grabbing up the bags from your hands then walked straight to the kitchen. “Well, I wouldn’t be this grumpy if someone did not forget to buy the ingredients that we oh so need so we wouldn’t starve during the Christmas E—

“Okay okay, I get it alright, I’m sorry about that. You know I didn’t mean it right? And look, I made it up to you by arranging the living room per your request.” He faced you, showing those puppy eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. You sighed, closing your eyes for a few seconds before looking at him straight in the eyes. “Alright alright, let’s just put these things away, okay?” One by one, you put out the things that you bought, mostly ingredients for the simple dinner that you are going to prepare. Holiday songs are playing softly in the background, engulfing the kitchen up until you spoke, “I’m gonna prep the ingredients now and cook dinner so that we don’t have to eat at exactly 12 midnight since we’re still going to watch later and open our presents, is that okay?” You asked him, while continuing to prepare the ingredients. A few seconds has passed and he still hasn’t answered, so you turned back to look at him, surprised to see him deep in thought.

“Hey, you okay? Something bothering you?” You put down the pot that you're holding on the counter and approached him, immediately worrying upon seeing the frown on his face. “Oh, yeah, just thought of something. Nothing to worry about, I’m fine.” He smiled forcibly, not quite reaching his eyes, making you worry more. “You sure?” You held his hands, brushing your thumb on his, knowing that it helps him calm down and ground himself when he’s in deep thought or worrying about something.  “It’s fine, don’t worry. You need help with dinner?” He stated, trying to change the topic, and went straight to see the contents of the bags that you carried home. “I got it, you can go take a shower, I’ll handle this okay?” You wrapped your arms around his tiny waist from behind, nuzzling your face on his muscular back. “Okay, just call me if you need help, hm?” He turned around and wrapped his arms around your waist, looking straight at you. “Alright alright, now go take a shower, not going to lie, you stink.” You playfully shoved him, pinching your nose and waving your hands through the air to make your statement more dramatic. “Yeah, yeah, heading to the shower now.” He rolled his eyes, then walked out of the kitchen. You chuckled, shaking your head with both of your antics. Breathing heavily, you now concentrated on the task at hand, wanting to immediately finish it so that you both can eat dinner, watch a movie, get cozy, cuddle and finally, open up your presents under the Christmas tree.

Even during his shower, Jungkook is still deep in thought on where he could have possibly placed his gift for you. He sighed, letting the hot water run through his body, trying to relax his mind so that maybe he can remember where he put it. He turned off the tap, grabbing his towel so that he can hurry up and try to help you (and find the gift once again, hopefully). He went downstairs, contemplating whether he would go straight to the kitchen or try to search at the living room. Deciding to look for it, he, once again, looked on every corner, behind the pillows, under the couch, coffee table, even on the mini cabinet under the TV but no luck. Sighing heavily, he sat on the sofa, burying his face on his hands.

Upon hearing some rummaging noises on the living room, you called for him on the kitchen. "I'm almost done, can you set up the table please? I'll just take a quick shower after this." You transferred your food onto the plates, waiting for him to set the table, so that everything is in place before you head to the bathroom. You can't help but notice that he's been kind of quiet,  especially since he's usually throwing remarks here and there. But you brushed it off, not wanting to bother him, since it's the holidays and you don't want both of you to get into an argument in case things get out of hands. You just observed him quietly, trying to decipher what the heck is bothering his mind.

Jungkook is awfully quiet. Not that it's a bad thing though, but this level of quietness is so unlike him. You just finished eating dinner, proceeding to watch a movie while snuggling under the cozy blankets that you specially bought for Christmas. Usually on times like these, he would be throwing out side comments and some (nasty) remarks about the characters of the movie or the scene that just played on the screen, but he hasn't uttered one word since the movie started. You sighed, deciding to just focus your attention on the movie.

As the ending credits rolled, you stretched your limbs, yawning, trying to shake off the sleepiness seeping in through your bones. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it's already 15 minutes left before the clock strikes twelve, so you stood up quickly, feeling energized as it's now time to open the gifts that are sitting prettily under the Christmas tree that you both built a few weeks prior. You tugged his arm, excitedly dragging him to sit in front of the presents. "Come on, let's open the gifts already! I want to know what they got me!" He let you pull him, now both of you sitting on the floor, one by one picking up the presents that got your name on it, given by your friends and loved ones. You finally picked up all yours, and all that's left under the tree is Jungkook's, and upon seeing that he hasn't at least reached out to grab it, you turned your attention on him. "Aren't you getting your gifts? It's not gonna walk to you, you know?" You chuckled, trying to get some reaction from him, yet he's just staring blankly at the floor. You started to worry once again, "Are you sure you're okay? You know you can tell me if something's bothering you, right?" You tried talking him out of it, not liking the quiet atmosphere basking in the air.

"It's just that," he pondered, not really wanting to say it, but having no choice as you're waiting for him eagerly to state what's been bothering him. "I kind of misplaced my gift for you... I know you said that it doesn't matter if I got you a present or not, but I wanted to and now it's gone... I don't know where I put it.. " He looked down, having trouble making eye contact with you. It's so endearing to see him like this, acting all shy and timid, compared to his boisterous and loud personality. You reached for his hand, intertwining with yours. You can't help but smile upon his behavior, not used to witnessing such shy Jungkook in front of you. "So yeah, that's why I've been quiet, because I'm racking my brain where I could have put it.. " He sighed once again, feeling disappointed with himself. 

"It's okay Jungkook, with gift or not, this Christmas is still special because I'm with you, okay? I'm happy that I got to spend it with you, and that's all that matters." You confessed, not wanting for him to beat himself up about it. "Sure, I get excited when someone gives me something, because I appreciate it. You know I'm not requiring you to give me one, right? Your presence alone is enough gift for me." You wrapped your arms around his torso, your knees touching, wanting to show your affection through a gesture he sure would appreciate. Soon after, he also wrapped his arms around you, burying his face on your neck. You rubbed his back, not wanting to break the intimate moment you're having when a glinting object caught your attention. You broke the hug, him complaining about you pulling away, demanding for you to stay still and wrap your arms around him once again. 

You stood up, trying to locate where you saw the shining object that caught your attention. Finally locating it slightly behind the boxes that once contained the Christmas ornaments decorating your living room, you picked up the small, silver box and asked him, "What's this? Is this yours?" You tried shaking it, out of sheer curiosity, wanting to guess what's inside it. Surprised by the gasp he let out, you looked at him, surprised once again upon seeing his face no longer frowning, but rather something out of pure relief and joy. "What? Is this yours? Seems like it by the look on your face." You teased him, chuckling lightly from the whiplash of his expressions. He laughed, a bright smile now decorating his face. He approached you, immediately picking up the gift you're holding. "No, it's my gift for you! I can't believe you found it! " He laughed once again, not quite processing how you are now holding the box that's been causing him stress a few hours ago. He was staring at it affectionately that you can't help but tease him more. 

"So, are you just gonna admire that or finally give it to me so that I can see what's inside?" You crossed your arms, raising your brows at him. He scoffed, but nonetheless pulled your hands, placing the box on your palm, staring at you. "Merry Christmas, love. I hope you like it." He smiled brightly, one that surely reached his eyes. Chuckling, you hugged him, nuzzling your face on his neck while thanking him. "Thank you Jungkook, I know I told you that you don't have to, but still, I appreciate it very much." He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face on your hair. You stayed like that for a while, basking in the feeling of being in each other's embrace. After what seems like a few minutes, you pulled away, glancing at him with a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

"Now, let's see what's inside this mysterious box that brought out the shyness in you, hm?" 

"Oh shut up and just open it."

#bts fics #bts fanfics #bangtan #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts namjoon #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bangtan fics #fluff #established relationship #bangtan sonyeondan

[flowerbeom]

Double Pepperoni | LJB

Part of The Pleasure Chest | A GOT7 Cringe Collaboration

Lim Jaebeom x Female!Reader Genre: College AU, Crackhead Comedy Smut Rating: Mature. So very mature. Warnings: Bad puns, Swearing & Explicit smut scenes. Word Count: 4k

Concept:  to: [email protected] hey cass, its me. your best friend. or what’s left of her. remember that kinda hot but kinda gross pizza delivery guy? the one with the nose ring and always smelt of cheetos? yeh, he’s looking less gross these days. what?! don’t judge me. desperate times call for desperate measures. it has been 154 days since i’ve had sex. shit’s dire here man.

A/N: If you lean into how bad this is purposefully meant to be, you’ll really enjoy it. 

All GIF credits for this series go to @defsenses.

Day 97 

📧 to: [email protected] hey cass!  yes my phone is still broken, and i have no idea when im going to get a new one cause im broke from visiting you in another goddamn country - so just suck it up and reply to my emails like the good best friend you are.  fuck i miss you already! why the hell did you have to be smart and shit and get into that international program and go to college in Seoul of all places!  do you know how far away that is?! 16 hours cassandra! 16 fucking hours on a plane with no leg room, subpar food and a middle aged balding man snoring next to you the entire time so you get no sleep on a 16 hour flight AWAY FROM YOUR BEST FRIEND.  it was really good to see you though, can you thank mrs kim again for me - you really struck gold with that housing sitch you got - especially your roommate! that fine ass college freshman you DID NOT allow me to fuck!  yeh yeh whatever, i get it - how the hell are you meant to look mrs kim in the eye again when your childhood best friend who you talked up to be an angel fucked her only son on the fold out couch. yes i get it, stop rolling your eyes at me.  either way, its still the dry season down here. miss you, love you. bye. 

It’s funny how jet lag after coming home from a holiday feels almost identical to a hangover; it’s a painful reminder that something that was quite enjoyable is over. The headache feels almost the same, along with the cotton mouth, hunger, dehydration and utter disappointment and resentful emptiness that the fun you were having is completely done - but only one makes you hurl your guts out at the smell of orange juice. Condolences to those who are unlucky enough to hurl in both instances. 

Either way, that’s where you found yourself - Thursday night, half unpacked suitcase lay in the middle of your living room, eyes bloodshot and staring blankly at the television; an all consuming headache pounding between your temples. Lucky for you, you knew a sure fire way to get rid of it without painkillers. Insert Mr. Pene Falso. No literally, insert it. You didn’t call your vibrator Fake Penis in Spanish not to insert it. And in case anyone hasn’t caught on yet, an orgasm legitimately helps get rid of a headache. Try it next time. 

As ever, positioning is important - preparation is key. Sweatpants pushed down to your ankles, one leg completely fished out. Sideways lean, cushion under one elbow, completely bare leg propped up onto the couch; allow for maximum spread when those pre-orgasm hip rolls start. Set Mr. Pene Falso on one, there is no need to go hard straight away - ease into the session, let the endorphins build. You have been deprived of a real penis for a while, so you know you’re eager; but a little self control will yield the most delicious of results. 

You will run the long race to Destination Stimulation and you will bite that bottom lip as your eyes roll back into their sockets as your long awaited, slow built, easy increase of settings on Mr. Pene Falso brings home the most delectable of orgams. It will not be a dry night, no sir. So lower that beautiful vibrating, bright pink silicone wand onto your clit-- 

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK 

Who the fuck..? Your eyes snapped to the front door, your hand clenched around your vibrator just millimetres away from your clit. A small loosening of your grip dropped the angle and the tip of your vibrator dipped against your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. A gravely moan escaped you; your focus immediately brought back to the task at hand. Literally. 

Ignore it, it’s probably no one important. That’s what you told yourself, shaking your head and leaning back against the couch once again. You licked your bottom lip at the enticing notion of self-induced euphoria. Spreading your legs further than before, you corrected your grip and pushed Mr. Pene Falso into you. Your head dropped back involuntarily, your teeth marked your bottom lip and those pre-orgasm hip rolls started slowly. It felt devine, finally some release; a little bit of pleasu--

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK 

“Who the fuck?!” 

“Pal’s Pizza!” 

Tossing Mr. Pene Falso aside, you yanked on your sweatpants, wiped the one bead of sweat off your brow and stampeded to your door. 

“You got the wrong house, buddy!” Ripping it open, your rage was greeted with a face you had not seen in a long time. Your eyes blew wide, as the eyes of the man before you narrowed; complimenting the smirk etching across his face. The ever familiar smell of cheetos, weed and pepperoni of years passed filled your nostrils and nostalgia wasn’t a word you wanted to use in that instance, but repressed memories were being dug up nevertheless. 

A few moments of stone-cold silence passed before a subtle hum started to invade your auditory peripherals. Leaving your eye-line, Mr. Pal’s Pizza leaned sideways, throwing his smirk into the apartment behind you and directly onto the bright pink silicone wand still vibrating on your couch. All colour drained from your obviously stiffened face. 

He scoffed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your alone time. Mind if I join you instead?” 

Day 106

📧 to: [email protected] hey cass did you know that there’s a woman in Georgia, who due to a rare disorder, experiences hundreds of orgasms a day? she’s just persistently aroused and will climax any time, anywhere - even in the most obscure of places. whereas I cannot even have one, in my own goddamn apartment.  because you will never guess who delivered a pizza to the wrong house last week. Crusty Jae. Yyu heard me. Fucking Lim Jaebeom from high school! Who by the way, still looks like a tryhard 2006 Skaterboi with his stupidly baggy jeans, Stussy t-shirt and bad haircut - or lack thereof who fucking knows.  AND he still smells like damp. No no, he doesn’t smell damp. He smells like damp. Like the idea of damp. but istg i could still cut myself on that jawline of his. and come to think of it, I haven’t had pizza in ages.  miss you. love you, bye. 

Day 114 

“Seriously dude, you need to stop ‘delivering pizza to the wrong house’. It’s getting pathetic.” You feigned irritation despite taking the box out of Jaebeom’s outstretched hand.

“Bruh, I am not. The guy’s next door never answered. So you--” He shook back his overgrown fringe and shifted all his weight back, angling his pelvis towards you. His eyes traipsed up and down your frame, saliva clearly pooling under his tongue. “-- get a free pizza delivered by this handsome mug.” 

You didn’t even try to bury the scoff that escaped you as Jaebeom dug two thumbs into his chest; a pungent smugness wafting from his stained Pal’s Pizza t-shirt. You practically laughed in his face. Yet he didn’t waver. 

“You’re still the same overconfident creep from highschool, Jae.” Jaebeom faked offense, a hand slapped on his heart - leaving a faint damp hand print. 

“And I still managed to nab all the ladies.” Sliding his tongue over his top teeth, he winked and you almost gagged. The fact that Crusty Jae, the school’s resident stoner, managed to have the highest body count by graduation is something that still baffled you. Something must have been seriously wrong with the girls who let that inside them. There were rumours of course, but you weren’t willing to explore any of them to prove if fact or not. 

Lifting the lid, you inhaled a glorious whiff of mozzarella and pepperoni but caught Jaebeom scratching his head from the corner of your eye; little flecks of dead skin floated to the ground and you couldn’t help but focus on the flakes of what looked like parmesan on the top of your pizza. Horror ensued, visible in the quiver in your voice. 

“You.. you don’t make the pizzas do you?” 

Jaebeom smirked, and ran a clammy hand through his greasy hair. 

“Nuh babe, I just deliver them.” He punctuated his statement with a wink and pucker of his lips. You were not comforted and turned away before he could see the grimace on your face. You dropped the pizza box onto your couch and fished a twenty-dollar-bill from your wallet and returned to the door to slap it into Jaebeom’s hand. 

“Nuh baby, it’s free.” He insisted with a stupid slanted grin. You shook your head, pushing the money harder into his hand and away from your door. 

“Keep the change.”

“Damn, thanks for the tip.” He smiled softly. Maybe he isn’t so much of a creep anymore. 

“Want a taste of mine?” 

You couldn’t have slammed the door in his face any harder.  

Day 129 

European. What about Lebanese? Kirby? No, too short. Continental? Way too long. But then again Kirby cucumbers have girth, and it’s not all about length. It’s how you use it. Would you go raw? Or would you wrap it? How sturdy are Kirby cucumbers? You’d obviously have to wash it first. Oh shit, could they poison you if it smooshes up while inside you? No, well you eat them so they can’t be too dangerous. How much lubrication would you need? 

“Little to none if you’re warmed up enough.” 

Cutting off your mental ramblings and ripping you back into reality, your head snapped towards the voice. Jaebeom’s voice. Of course it had to be Jaebeom. Why is he suddenly everywhere? 

“Excuse me, what?!” 

“Lubrication. You wouldn’t need any if you’re warmed up. Cucumbers just slide right in.” He said with total confidence as if speaking from absolute experience. If anything, the pompous smile was enough to tell you what he was saying was true. You tried to swallow and gasp at the same time, causing you to start choking in the grocery store. 

“Wh-wait-what, I was saying all of that out loud?!” You prayed it didn’t say all of it out loud. 

Are you really that delirious from lack of sex that your pathetically curious and completely comedic wonderings about cucumbers as dildos was said out loud in the grocery store?! Have you become that incapable of controlling yourself that you can’t even keep being a horny bitch on the inside?! Must you zone out in full stereo?! 

Jaebeom giggled. 

“Maybe. I heard from about ‘What about Lebanese?’.”

You froze, the hand gripping your shopping basket growing dangerously limp.

“So pretty much all of it.” Jaebeom laughed again and reached across you to pick up the thickest Kirby cucumber from the pile and dropped it into your basket. 

“Think of me.”

“What!?” 

His smirk thawed you completely, leaving you standing in a lukewarm puddle of distaste. “Later babe.” 

Seriously, you needed to find every girl who fucked him in highschool and just ask them “WHY?!” 

Day 147

📧 to: [email protected] hey cass he ran out of battery I have no spares I live in a wasteland of despair miss you love you bye

Day 165

ring-ring-ring

“Pal’s Pizza, can I take your order?” 

“Hey Jae, it’s me. The usual please.” 

“Stuffed Crust?” 

“No thanks.” 

“No probs. How about I stuff you?”

“Bye.” 

“See you in twenty minutes!” 

Day 167 

📧 to: [email protected] hey cass I think I’m living in a permanent fever dream today in my tech drawing class my professor told me if I lick the tip I’ll get better results so I asked him, if i let him lick my tip would I get extra credit? HE MEANT MY PENCIL CASSANDRA, HE MEANT TO LICK THE TIP OF MY PENCIL SO I GET THICKER LINES what the fuck is wrong with me?!  oh I know.  it has been 167 days since I’ve had sex ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTY SEVEN DAYS and Mr Pene Falso still does not have new batteries.  miss you love you bye

Day 175

You had never felt more accomplished in your life. In one hand rested your brand new phone, shiny and in-built with all the things to keep your easily distracted brain entertained. No longer did you have to make calls from the decrepit pay phone outside your apartment building. No longer did you have to sit on buses and pretend to like reading. No, you were reunited with the technology of your generation and you were ecstatic. Full time college and part time employment didn’t always meet the needs of your demanding lifestyle, but you saved enough to finally get a brand new phone.

And in the other hand lay two beautiful AA batteries. You know perfectly well what they were for. You were equally as ecstatic. But for some reason there was one person you wanted to talk to about it. 

Your fingers dialed the number almost on their own; muscle memory taking over. It rang six times. 

“Hello?”

“CASS!” So excited to hear your best friend’s voice you tripped on the corner of your rug; your body colliding with the couch. 

“Holy shit, you finally got a phone. Took you long enough.” 

“Shut up, I’ve been busy.” Rubbing the part of your shoulder that managed to miss abundant cushioning on the couch and hit the tiny piece of wooden framework beneath it all. 

“Sure. Busy trying to get yourself off every chance you get.” 

The fingers trying to unscrew the bottom of your vibrator halted; your bottom lip folded between your teeth - a pout formed in your silence. 

“I--” Lost for words you resumed unscrewing the cap, placing one battery into each slot. 

“You’re probably gonna go masturbate after you get off this call.” 

The last battery dropped in with a clang, albeit muffled by Cass’s muffled laughter. 

“You know I’m messing with you right?”

“..Yes.” 

“Good. So how’s Crusty Jae?” She continued to laugh as you groaned.

“Dude, can you please explain how he managed to pull so much in high school?! Please! Am I the only one who doesn’t get it?!” Suddenly incredibly frustrated, you screwed on the vibrator cap with so much gusto that your grip accidentally turned it on; the abrupt buzzing ripping out a quiet yelp. 

“You know his nickname used to be Double Pepperoni.” You scoffed so hard, you felt it in your ribs. “Nuh apparently he was packing.”

“What? Like what, like he always had slices stuffed in his pockets?”

“No, like p-a-c-k-i-n-g.” 

“I highly doubt that flat-ass McGee is huge.” You smirked while Cass tried to stop herself from choking on laughter. “And even if he was, dude, I still don’t understand how that seemingly unhygienic mess can score so much.” 

“Bro, I don’t know either. But from all the girls I’ve ever talked to about him, they all say that whatever he did to seduce them or whatever - their reactions were purely carnal.” You made a pathetic noise, like a dying car horn to highlight your skepticism. “Like apparently, he would do something or they would see him do something and they’d just snap. Fuck him once, have a great time but then refuse to ever bring it up again. Except to me.. Cause after all, it was Crusty Jae.. But that’s beside the point.”

“They’d just ‘snap’?” 

“Yup. Like a fresh green bean.”

“Weird metaphor.” 

“But you got it.”

“Sadly. I’m going to go now.” 

“Happy Orgasm!” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Miss you.”

“Love you.”

“Bye!” 

From putting down one electronic device to picking up the other, you settled into the couch cushions with Mr Pene Falso in hand - recharged and ready to go. Yes, you were obviously going to prove your best friend painfully correct by getting off as soon as you hung up that call, but honestly - fuck it. You deserved it. 

Remember, preparation is key. Sweatpants pushed down your ankles, one leg completely bare. Hair pulled up into an overeager and messy as ever bun. Sideways lean. Mr Pene Falso, setting one. 

It’s not meant to be pretty, the faces you pull while masturbating. And the sounds one makes, equally as carnal. But who the fuck cares. You’re doing this for you. And as those pre-orgasm hip rolls get more and more intense as your clit is vibrated right down to Destination Stimulation, you moan in pleasure for you know you are finally getting what you’ve wanted for so lon-- 

KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK 

“Hey it’s me!” Your head snapped so fast to the door it cracked every bone in your neck. 

“Jae!?” 

“Yeh, can I come in please?”

“Oh come on, what the fuck!?” Fury swallowed you whole, Mr Pene Falso slamming into the ground in a fit of rage. “What do you fucking want, Jaebeom?!” 

“Please, I need--” Jerking your pants back on, you charged at the door; ripping it open. 

“Need what?!”

“-- to use your bathroom.” Sheepish eyes met your own; blown wide and shaking. Jaebeom stood before you, pizza delivery bag hung loosely in his hand; completely soaked from head to toe. 

“Sorry, it’s fucking pouring outside and I delivered next door and I just want to dry off a little, that cool?” 

His usually loose shirt clung to his body, every inch of his torso outlined. His hair, normally shaggy and overgrown, was completely pushed back off his face; slick and saturated to show every carved line of his face. Was his eyes always this piercing? Or was it only because it was in context with the rest of his beautiful face? 

“So..?” Jaebeom reeled you back from your slow descent and you shook it off violently. 

“Uhh yeh, that-that way.” Throwing a thumb over your shoulder to show him the way, Jaebeom slinked past you; a marginal waft of damp weed followed behind. 

What has gotten into you? This is Crusty Jae we’re talking about here. You are not meant to find him attractive. Nothing about him is meant to be attractive. But there you were - standing in your hallway, dumbfounded as you watched Jaebeom take off his shirt and wring it into your sink. You tried to tear your eyes away from how broad his shoulders were, or how all the muscles around his waist tensed as he squeezed all the water out of his shirt. You couldn’t even fight off the shiver that crawled down your spine when you watched his triceps flex when he pushed his hair off his face. You swallowed hard when that shiver landed right between your legs. 

“Like apparently, he would do something or they would see him do something and they’d just snap.” 

He didn’t see you come up behind him but he felt the hand you placed in the middle of his back. Turning to face you, his eyes were as dark as yours were crazed.  

“Sup.” His cheeto breath didn’t deter you.  

“You’re a pal, right?” You swore you couldn’t sound any more desperate. 

“Says so on my shirt.” You couldn’t quite figure out if it was Chipotle or Flamin’ Hot cheetos. But it wasn’t the time or the place. You had needs. 

“Be a pal then.” Jaebeom quirked a lewd and curious brow. “Get me off.” 

The speed of which he had his hands under your arms and lifting you onto the benchtop was frighteningly fast. Your shirt was pulled hastily over your head and thrown aside, your pants were torn down your legs equally as fast. You had no time to question, no time to doubt - not when Jaebeom’s mouth was on yours, his tongue rolling over your teeth as if searching for hidden cheetos in your cheeks. But with the way his thumb circled over your clit through your underwear, you weren’t going to complain. Go on, fish for those cheetos baby. 

Through wet and messy kisses, your hands tracked down his chest; stopping at his belt buckle. Of course, you thought, it was one of those snap closure canvas belts - ridiculously too long and matched his ridiculously baggy jeans. Nevertheless, you snapped open the buckle, fished it out of the loops and his pants fell instantly to the ground. 

Jaebeom broke away from your mouth, leaning back to make room for his hands to pull off your underwear; just to have his lips crash back into yours the moment the lace garment hit the floor. 

“Conmg-do. Cone--. Con-” You mumbled against his mouth. Strong hands pushed against his chest; disappointed eyes flashed for a moment, before turning devious at the sight of your naked breasts. 

“Condom.” He nodded and you swung around to grab one from the medicine cabinet. Rounding back to face him, you saw his underwear was on the ground, his very erect penis greeting you fully. Double Pepperoni…  

He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, slid the condom expertly onto his length and caged you against the mirror in one fluid movement. He waited, paused for effect if you will and you weren’t having any of it. One hand scratched into his hair, the other pulled on the chain around his neck.

“Oh, you want me to stuff you do you?” Said with total hubris. 

“Like cheesy crust.” Who have you become?! 

Jabeom’s heavy hands found themselves on your hips, pulling you down onto his dick. He filled you wholly, deliciously; throbbing against your walls so achingly good that you didn’t even care that you could feel crumbs of garlic bread that did not belong to you in your mouth. 

He pounded you roughly; each thrust making you bounce on your porcelain sink. His hair, still wet, dripped onto your shoulder and down your back as his teeth marked your neck. Your bathroom began to fill with lewd and erotic noises, squelches and squeaks of wet flesh against wet flesh and some against hard surfaces. 

Jaebeom snapped his hips harder and harder into you, moans tumbled from your mouth as the orgasm you have craved for finally rounded the horizon. He was merciless, relentless, completely determined to drive you home. 

You yanked harder on the fist full of hair in your hand, ripping a loud and gravely groan from Jaebeom. Not one to be upstaged, Jaebeom shoved his hand into your hair, tangling his fingers into your bun and pulling down to expose more of your neck to him. His pace had not slowed down at all. 

He marked your neck, sucking and biting on your flesh so gloriously that you began to mewl - high pitched and needy, and it’s what sent Jaebeom over the edge. His hips snapped harder, forcing his dick deep into you; hitting spots you had forgotten about completely. 

Different colours were flashing behind your eyelids and you were close, so close. 

And as Jaebeom neared climax, he tore his hand out of your hair. Though in his earlier fervour, got so much of it tangled around his fingers and stuck under his ring, that your whole body was torn sideways and off the bench. 

Landing on the floor, shocked eyes watched Jaebeom ejaculate all over your sink as your own orgasm retreated away; shrivelling up into dust and blown away in the wind - his hand still stuck in your hair. How the fuck, wasn’t he wearing a condom, you thought, only for you to reach down and find it stuck inside your vagina, half hanging out. There was literally nowhere lower you could go. This, this is rock bottom. 

“Haha, holy fuck. Sorry babe.” Jaebeom leaned down and carefully untangled his fingers out of your hair. Towels were passed around for hygiene purposes and you almost vomited when you saw cheeto crumbs wedged between Jaebeom’s butt-cheeks. 

You weren’t really sure what happened after. You think Jaebeom said something crass. Or maybe he said thank you. In a crass way. Either way, he eventually left and the two hour shower you took still didn’t make you feel clean. Especially not after finding a half-dried pearl of cum on your toothbrush. 

But there was one thing you knew for sure. You totally snapped. 

Day 0

📧 to: [email protected] hey cass in the interest of our friendship and for the purposes of full transparency it has been 1 day since ive had sex and we will never speak of it again

#got7 #got7creators #ksmutclub #got7 smut #lim jaebeom #jaebeom #jaebum #jaebeom imagine #jaebeom story #jaebeom smut #got7 story #got7 imagine #got7 fanfiction #rating: mature #🌙 #double peperoni #the pleasure chest

[zhong-taro]

shotaro as a friendly ghost

 this is 2.8k words of shotaro and taeyong interacting and yes it’s all self-indulgent

tw: small mention of suicide, but it’s marked very clearly!

Ok so this is definitely part of a longer, more detailed AU that I’ll probably go into more later (like way later)

bUT let’s start here - Shotaro is a friendly ghost

Oh my g o d he’s such a sweetie you have no idea

When he dies, it’s something really dumb

He and his parents had moved to Korea after his father had sold his company and suddenly come into a significant amount of money 

It’s enough that they buy a large plot of land in Korea

Shotaro is about five years old when they buy the land and start construction on the house

It’s positioned at the top of a large hill that looked down over a small Korean town, and in the hot summers the house provided shade for a park, and when it rained the house blocked from too much flooding

Well, once it was finally built it did

It took five years for this absolute MANSION of a house to be built. Shotaro and his family had lived in a small rental home in the town, acquainting themselves with everyone and becoming established members of the community

When the place was finally finished, Shotaro was ten and the Osaki’s would have large gatherings of people at their home most weekends, with large parties every holidays

Originally, the family had built such a large home because they planned on taking in many foster children and helping to raise orphaned children

They never get to

The 1950’s were an absolute golden era for the Osakis, they’re loved by everyone around them and their perfect little boy Shotaro shines in Korea like he never had in Japan

Until in 1959, when they suffer great tragedy and the family is never the same again

Personally, Shotaro thinks he couldn’t have had a dumber death

He was nineteen and it was the night before the town dance contest. He was more than nervous - his parents had already been taking him out of town for dance lessons because he was too scared that the entire town would think he was bad at dancing, but now he was actually facing them

All of these people had known him since he was a toddler, he couldn’t handle the idea of all of them thinking he was bad at something he had found he loved

So he couldn’t sleep

And he had wandered downstairs, grabbing a cup of water and taking it back to his bedroom

However, he had tripped on the top step while going back to his bedroom and spilled water all over the hardwood floor

When he took the last step to try and clean up the spilled water, he slipped and fell down the stairs

Unfortunately, the Osaki parents woke up to a gruesome scene of their son dead at the entryway to their home

Shotaro thought he woke up, but when he stood up and his body didn’t stand with him, he knew something was wrong

And when his mother walked down the stairs (through him, mind you) and screamed, sobbing into his body, he realized that things might’ve been worse than he realized

It didn’t take long to figure out that he had died

(( tw // suicide for the next two bullet points ))

His parents couldn’t handle the pain

After his funeral, it took less than a month for both of his parents to commit suicide

Shotaro had been hoping that they would also become ghosts, but no such luck

So he was left alone, in a huge house that hadn’t seemed nearly as lonely only a month before

Of course he tried to leave, but he could never get past the gates that marked his parent’s property at the bottom of the hill

And so he sat in his house

For decades

Throughout the years, the house decayed and became decrepit. The chandelier fell one year, leaving glass scattered across the front entryway

Books became dusty, all but the ones in the library because Shotaro spent most of his time in that room and watched the days go by through the stories he would read

And when he opened up the windows on a nice spring day and leaned out, looking over the small town that he had loved so much, he heard the rumors

Tales of the haunted house at the top of the hill, told by a new generation of children who had never seen the Osaki home in its original glory

And Shotaro felt the repeating disappointment when a child would look into the windows, seem to spot him, and yelp before running away

So Shotaro becomes a recluse - not because he wanted to, but because he has to

After about 15 years, people start trying to sell the house

He doesn’t let that happen. Shotaro had become quite the… depressed person since his parents death. He had never really been given the opportunity to react to things as they happen. He’s always to put down the book and take a few deep breaths before continuing, or just walk away from the window when the rumors become too upsetting

But when that first person - a potbellied, middle aged man - comes to see the house in the interest of buying it, Shotaro sees red

And so he does what he thinks ghosts are supposed to do

He scares the man off

Years later he looks back and sees how bad of a ghost he was, but that just means that the guy must’ve been real cowardly

Because all he has to do is open a few windows, move around a few glasses, make some scary noises, and the guy is turning on his tail and sprinting out the door

More people come back - a family of three very wealthy foreigners who don’t speak the language, one rich old woman who decides the house would be too much upkeep six sons with two tired parents who decided there was too much room for trouble, and probably dozens more

The ones that don’t decide to move out on their own, Shotaro scares off

He gradually gets better at it - it’s hard to learn how to keep himself transparent at first

He thinks that he can become completely invisible, slightly translucent, or almost-solid but he’s never spoken to someone to figure it out

But as he watches the house crumble more and more around him, it gets more and more difficult to scare away the shoppers

He just wishes somebody other than pretentious jerks would come looking. He likes the original gothic architecture his parents designed, and he knows the house would be beautifully unique if somebody came along to restore it. But he’s not sure if he likes the idea of someone else coming into his house

Although he doesn’t have much of a choice after a while

The man comes along with the same real estate agent who’s been trying to sell Shotaro’s house for at least five years now

He’s pretty sure the woman knows he’s haunting the house, because she shoots glares into the empty air where he makes strange noises or moves furniture, but that sure doesn’t stop him from scaring all her clients away

When she steps in, she holds the open for a red haired man with a sharp jaw

He whistles as he looks around the large entryway, the noise echoing. He looks down at the large chandelier, still shattered on the marble floor, and raises one eyebrow at the agent

“What happened there?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been there ever since I started trying to sell this place.”

“Have you tried to have it cleaned?”

“Of course,” she looks a little insulted. “But the… ghost,” she glares into the empty air, across the room from where Shotaro is currently floating, “Seems to scare everyone off before they can get much done.”

The man smirks, turning away from her and looking around the entire room. He stands in silence for a few moments, scanning everything (Shotaro tries to ignore how nervous he feels when the man’s eyes briefly pause at his place at the old dining room table, but he tries a lot harder to not think about the point of his teeth)

“I’ll take it.”

The man shows up again the next day, and Shotaro is not happy about it

When he arrives, Shotaro is standing on the stairs and glaring at the front door

After unlocking the doors and stepping in, the red-haired man placed his hands firmly on his hips and smiled while looking around the room

“My name is Lee Taeyong.” the man announced loudly. The smile didn’t slip off of his face as the silence of the house continued. “I was born in 1995,” (how has that much time passed since he died?) “I’m a vampire, and I promise I will treat your home with respect.” 

Well. That’s interesting

But Shotaro chooses to gloss over the vampire thing and scoffs, storming up the stairs

The man - supposed vampire - doesn’t go into any rooms or even go upstairs on the first night. He just sleeps (pretends to sleep? Do vampires sleep? Are vampires even real? Shotaro stows all these thoughts away to deal with later) on the couch after ordering food in.

When he wakes up in the morning, Taeyong still has that obnoxious smile on as he looks around at nothing. Shotaro is there, watching and making sure the man doesn’t mess anything up

So when Taeyong fiddles at the dining room table, which only has three working legs and is almost broken in half, and asks the room “Would you be ok with me getting rid of this table?” Shotaro throws a glass at his head

He misses, intentionally obviously, and the old glass cup shatters against the peeling wallpaper of his dining room. Taeyong snorts and holds his hands up in surrender “Alright, no table. Hey, can you throw another glass if you’re a male ghost, please?”

Shotaro throws another glass, and once again ignores the point of the new man’s teeth

Later in the morning, early afternoon, Taeyong starts looking around the house.

“Are you  gonna try and kill me again if I go upstairs?” He asks, and Shotaro does nothing but cross his arms from where he’s sitting on the dusty banister

“I’ll take that as a no.”

And so they head upstairs. Taeyong stops in front of every doorway, and if Shotaro doesn’t want him going in the room he makes the door shake and bangs on the wall a few times

Taeyong doesn’t understand this message at first, and when he almost opens the door to Shotaro’s parent’s room he loses it

The ghost bangs on the door so hard the whole thing shakes, making what little art that was still hanging shudder. He yells for effect, coming out more of an angry groan (because he still can’t quite talk to humans when he’s invisible), and shoves Taeyong away from the door

The older (well, physically older) man looks shocked and stands still for a moment staring at the door, before shaking his hand and smiling a little. “Alright, I get the message Mr. Ghost.”

Shotaro only stops him again at his own bedroom door and his library, everywhere else he lets Taeyong explore. The vampire goes back to one of the guest rooms with an en suite and asks if he can keep this room as his own

Shotaro reluctantly lets him take the room, and tries to tell himself that this man is not going to be the one who ends up staying in his house

Again, the night Taeyong orders food in and eats on his own

Although before ordering the food, he grabs a box that had showed up on the front doorstep when Shotaro wasn’t looking

He floats around Taeyong as the other man carried the box to the only table not broken (a coffee table) and opens it with his unnaturally sharp nails. Shotaro’s nose crinkles at the bags of warm blood, and he reaches in to shift them around

“Animal blood,” Taeyong says quickly. “I promise I’m not a murderer, ghost friend.”

Shotaro has to look away as Taeyong drinks it, and gags for the first time since he’s died when he uses the animal blood as a topping for his burger and fries

The next morning, Shotaro comes out of his library after a night of reading and smells breakfast. When he goes downstairs, he’s greeted with Taeyong, dancing a little to a song playing out of a small metal box that Shotaro doesn’t understand and making breakfast

Shotaro peeks over Taeyong’s shoulder to see the bacon, eggs, and pancakes he’s making

He lets himself float up a little and pushes open the window open right above the counter

“Oh!” Taeyong looks up with wide eyes, looking around. “Hello, Mr. Ghost!” He smiles and his eyes pause where Shotaro floats before continuing to look around. “I’m not sure if you can eat, but if you can you’re welcome to some of the food.”

Shotaro can’t eat, but he appreciates the gesture

Through the next few days, they fall into a rhythm

Taeyong doesn’t seem to sleep, but meditates. He never goes fully unconscious but he does seem to float a little bit. Every other day the box of blood arrives and Taeyong drinks some with every meal, plus three full glasses throughout the rest of the day, and Shotaro learns to live with it

Shotaro won’t let Taeyong into only two rooms, but lets the vampire look around the rest of his home

They fight over a few things, like fixing different things up, but not much. Eventually Shotaro lets him buy new furniture and doesn’t object when the man adds a few new paintings to the walls

Shotaro finds himself thinking that maybe this one person (undead vampire?)  might not be so bad to live with - for now, at least

Shotaro walks into his library one day, about a month into living together, and finds Taeyong already there. He tries not to get angry, and feels a wave of emotions when he sees that Taeyong is staring up at the portrait of the Osaki family hanging between two large windows. He distantly notices that the man is sitting on the only section of couch without direct sunlight landing on it

He lets the door creak and close noisily as he steps inside, tries to will the wind from the open windows to grow a little colder as he floats next to where Taeyong is sitting

“Which one are you?”

Shotaro wishes he could respond, and looks around desperately for a way to show him

He grabs a dead flower from a large vase sitting on the end table and uses it to point to his face, the painted-him smiling slightly between his two parents and looking as awkward as he always felt in life

Taeyong sighs a little. “You must be so young…” He stares at where he must estimate Shotaro’s head is, judging by the floating flower, and smiles sadly. “I can’t believe the ghost haunting my house is a teenager.”

The painting rumbles a little as the wall shakes.

“Fine, sorry,” Taeyong chuckles a little. “Your house.”

Shotaro can see a shift in Taeyong’s behavior after that

The man seems to actively seek him out and starts talking to him more and more

He starts asking more questions - mostly things Shotaro can’t figure out how to answer - and becomes more joke-y with him

“Can I see you?”

Shotaro freezes from his perched position on a chair across from Taeyong.

“I don’t know if you even know how to show me what you look like, but I’ve been living here for 3 months, don’t you think it’d be more comfortable if I actually knew where you were?” Taeyong is looking at where Shotaro has his book propped up as he marks his page and puts it down

With very little effort, he wills himself into view. Not fully - he still isn’t sure he can even do that - but enough that his features are visible

Taeyong stares for a few moments before speaking

“You’re a baby.”

Shotaro gapes for a moment before laughing, a soft sound that sounds muted in his non corporeal form.

“You can’t be anything but a teenager, how old are you?” Taeyong’s surprised look has slipped off his face and now he looks more curious and excited.

“Well, physically 19,” Shotaro speaks slowly, trying to get used to the way his voice sounds - he hasn’t spoken much since his death. “But I died in 1959”

Aaaand Taeyong gapes again

“Holy crap, that was 50 years ago!”

Shotaro tilts his head to the side a little, thinking. “Really? Hmm, I didn’t realize it was so long ago.”

Taeyong smiles again, leaning forward as he pushes away his breakfast plate. “What’s your name, ghost-teenager?”

“Shotaro, Osaki Shotaro.”

“Nice to meet you Shotaro,” Taeyong grins at him, hair falling into his face. “I’m Taeyong.”

#WHY does everything look so much LONGER on google docs #this is 6.5 pages on google docs yet?? looks so short here???? #anYWAYS #nct #shotaro #osaki shotaro #taeyong #lee taeyong #my writing #headcanons #nct monster au #nct au #please be nice i'm sensitive!!!!!!

[blissfulalchemist]

#14 Kiss Prompt

14 for CatCooper: A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished.

Soooo somehow the original ask for this got lost but I still had the prompt saved away and there’s nothing wrong with it being posted this way. But here’s the finished piece for the Cat in a Cowboy Hat ship with the lovely @strafethesesinners​ Cooper. Hope you enjoy! Warning there is a little spice near the end there.

The clear night skies of this place always brought Catlina back home. The holiday didn’t help either in keeping her thoughts to a place she hadn’t been back to in almost a year. Back then she’d be up on private property, tent pitched with her friends and husband, fire going as drinks were passed around and the food cooking away, music on the speakers and laughter….oh how she missed their laughter. Even when she spent that first Memorial Day weekend without him, there was still laughter….still fun….and a little bit of light. It didn’t really make sense how later she found herself needing to breathe, to find a way out of that place, only to wound up caged again, and with less possibility of ever finding a way out it seemed. 

Tonight though….tonight she found herself again with those feelings, even far from the walls of that ranch. No one normally gave her the time of day and she thought it would be easier to blend in with the bigger crowd but was met with more stares, glances, and whispers, their assumptions about her too much and clawing at her rolling stomach finding herself gasping for air gripping onto that piece of wood. This whole night had been a mistake, trying to find something of normal in this place was a mistake as it would never be possible. Most everyone in this town knew of her, knew an idea of her, made opinions on how she was and the danger she posed to them. All but one it seemed, and it was his voice that called back her thoughts, his touch that calmed the storm she felt, his treatment of her that brought about the space to breathe. 

So it made for an easy decision to spend the night with him. Even if she and Cooper decided to have one night together it would be enough to staciate the ever growing loneliness that built in her chest again. Sure she was never alone, her new husband near her and caring for her in some capacity, but it wasn’t the same and most acts of intimacy were for performance only. There was something different about having a night with someone that didn’t have any expectations of you and saw her as just Cat, someone she hadn’t been in a long time. He pulled into a small clearing that ran next to a small brook with a makeshift fire pit in the center of it. The silence surrounding them had Cat pinching her fingertips, what did she need to say?

“This spot okay?” Cooper asked, his drawl making her cheeks start to burn. She nodded, clearing her throat, “Good. Cause I like this spot. Far away from everything, gives you a chance to think.”

“I bet it’s really nice when the sun’s out,” the confidence she held jumping into the truck felt long gone as she smiled, laughing at herself silently, “You have a blanket we can use in here?” He smiled raising a brow at her, “I don’t particularly like the idea of lying on the ground.”

“You can always just use me,” he beamed at her, blue eyes shining in the low light, “But I do. We can lie in the bed of the truck too if you’d like.”

“Star gazing is only really fun when you’re on the ground,” Cat opened the door, jumping down, “just like people used to do when you had to hunt and gather for your food.”

A succession of door slamming and Cooper was next to her again, heat radiating off his body, “Should I get a fire going really make it feel like those times?”

Cat laughed, shaking her head, “No. Doing that defeats the purpose of stargazing,” she nudged his arm as they made their way to the center of the field, “besides I got you for warmth as it is.” Cat helped in laying out the blanket, taking her spot with Cooper next to her growing quiet with only the sound of the running water between them. “So uhm,” she fumbled trying to break the silence, “do you ever make your own constellations? Or do you try and look for the already known ones?”

“Don’t ever take too much time to look up at the stars,” he turned his head looking at her, “Didn’t think you could ever see this many.”

Cat smiled, “Yeah, well when there’s little to no light you can see the Milkyway. That was always my favorite part growing up.”

“Oh?” His voice curious, “Where’d you grow up? Was it here?”

She smiled turning to face him, “What makes you say that?”

“You noticed I wasn’t from here,” he gave a small shrug, “and it seems people know who you are enough to have an opinion.”

Cat laughed biting her lower lip looking back up to the sky, “You’re observant I’ll give you that.” She let out a low breath, “I’m not from here though. Moved up here after college,” Cat lied, voice trailing off. “I did live in the mountains though,” she said quietly, pausing to think for a moment, “Or well close to them. Foothills might be more accurate.” Cat moved closer to Cooper, arms brushing each other, “What about you? Did you come from the south?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Cooper shifted to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, “What do you do for a living up here? Don’t think I’ve seen you working any place I would assume you too.”

“That’s because I work at the lumber mill,” Cooper’s eyes widened a bit before Cat gave him a smirk, “I’m kidding,” she gave a laugh, “That’s complicated, though. But you work for the police department, how do you enjoy that?” 

“Gets me by. Love seeing the people here and there’s a good amount of fun to be had. Especially with weekends like this.”

“Oh,” Cat glanced down to the blanket under them, “and you’re here spending it with me. Probably far from what you thought it would be.”

“Or just what it was supposed to be,” he smiled, blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Cat blushed, avoiding his gaze and the flutter in her chest as his hand ran along her arm, “Aren’t you starting to get cold?”

She shook her head, “Are you? Cause I could try and warm you up.” Her mind spun as Cat looked for the next right thing to say, “I might not have much warmth but it's better than nothing I’m sure.” He nodded, Cat moving to press against him, Cooper’s arms wrapping around her. 

“You know back at the bar you said something about wanting to get away for a little bit,” Cat looked up, “Said you wanted to have some fun,” she gave a nod, “What kind of fun were you thinking?” 

“Just what it used to be like,” she whispered, before snapping her mouth shut, “I mean I didn’t really have any expectations for what that fun could mean or be. I just uhm,” she felt her cheeks burn cursing herself for the earlier drinking making her too bold in the truck. Not like she didn’t want to be bold right now, how easy it would be with him. She was just over thinking this whole thing. “I miss home sometimes is all,” she lied, the truth she was finding was missing being with someone she wanted to be with. 

It was easy enough now to crave the physical affection of John, to have an empty need for it. She was human, its what humans did. The line repeating itself again and again, an excuse but this time one given from herself rather than those she’d have sex with as a teenager. It was a duty, an obligation. 

“It’s not a bad thing to miss home every now and then,” his voice softer, “There’s a comfort in it and everyone needs some comfort.”

“What’s the comfort you crave,” she asked lowly, her hand resting against his chest. 

His blue eyes glanced down to her hand, smirking, “Tryin’ to see if we want the same thing right now?” Cat stayed silent, heart racing as Cooper’s fingertips brushed along her jawline, “Don’t have to be afraid. We’ll go as far as you want.” She nodded, swallowing, running her hand up his neck, resting it on his cheek. She tilted her face closer to his, eyes closing pulling his lips to hers. Her heart stopped once contact was made, his hand coming to rest behind her neck, lips soft and responsive until they pulled away. Cooper waited, gauging where Cat was and if she wanted to continue. 

The next breath she took opened up the cascade of longing, burning and consuming her. Catlina pulled him to her, smashing their lips together, arms wrapping around Cooper while his hands scorched her skin as he teased with the idea of them under her clothing. His grip tightened on her, her leg hiking up to his hips, hands running under his shirt, nails digging in. He moved to allow enough room for her to straddle his thigh, Cat wasting no time in grinding against him moaning into his mouth, Cooper’s lips moving down her neck. She let her head fall back as he moved across her left collarbone, pulling back the sleeve cutting his kisses short, her hands pulling up on his shirt.

She was intoxicated, her breathing heavier, feeling his bare chest against her, his fingers entangling in her hair. Years….it had been years since she felt anything like this. Not since her husband was last alive, that added element of wanting who you were with and them wanting you also created a different experience with sex. How she longed for something like this again, she let out a sharp moan feeling his teeth against the crook of her neck.

Cooper gave a smirk, slowly pushing up the fabric of her shirt, Cat helping in tossing it to the side, uncaring of the scar it hid. He placed her on her back, kissing down her chest, her hands running through his hair, rolling her body slowly against his relishing in the way his hands ran along her curves and his lips finding just the right places to be. She wanted him, all of him, even just for this one night. Why shouldn’t she? 

Time, she only had so much of it and she knew nothing about Cooper and what he needed from her. Cat wanted to take her time, make this last as long as she could, let them explore the other in full. Time. What time is it? It shouldn’t matter how much time she had, there was plenty of it. She guided Cooper’s hand down to her core, slipping easily into her jeans, Cat unbuttoning them giving him more room. Their lips met and he started to rub slow circles over her underwear, low groans coming from the back of her throat. 

She could feel him hard against her thigh, Time, her hands staying in place along his back, Watch the time. Cooper easily pushed away the fabric, a shockwave through Catlina’s body as he made contact with her clit, her hips bucking up moaning into his kiss. John will find out, John could fuck off, You’re supposed to be back soon. The circles increased in their speed, his fingers sliding into her with ease, “Might not need a lot of prep time with you,” Cooper whispered against her lips as Cat whined with his hand slowing down. 

His belt came loose with just as much ease, her hand wrapping around his shaft, eliciting a sharp inhale from Cooper, smiling against his lips, “Could say the same about you cowboy.” The distant sound of plane engines were masked as the two went back to making out, Cat running her fingers up and down his cock, feeling herself become wetter imagining what it would finally feel like with him inside of her. The overhead sounds of the engines grew closer, as she helped in shimmying her pants down more, Cooper following suit.

They paused knowing the next step, The plane, she gave a nod biting her lower lip, readying herself. His hands were on her hips, lining himself up, the plane passing over them muffling what Cooper had just said. Cat’s eyes went wide, gasping, “Stop! Wait!” She looked up to the sky watching as the shadow moved in the direction of the Ranch, “I have to go,” she breathed out, pushing Cooper off of her.

He blinked, “What?” Cat pulled her pants up, careful of her knees being under him, “Wait hold on,” his hand grabbed hold of her wrist, eyes searching hers, “Please stay.”

Cat shook her head, “I have to go, I’m sorry,” she moved out from under him, searching for her shirt, “I need to just be going.”

“You sure,” Cooper asked, Cat meeting his eyes, the pain mixing with confusion pulling on her heart, “It’s still pretty early in the night.”

She nodded, holding her shirt over the scar, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

He gave a nod and a sigh, “At least let me give you a ride to where you need to go,” Cooper reached for his shirt.

“No!” Cat exclaimed, clearing her throat, “I mean no. That’s okay. I don’t live very far from here.” She couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss him once more, “I’ll make it up to you the next time we see each other.”

“How can you be so sure there’s gonna be a next time?” He cocked an eyebrow, eyes narrowing, looking her over. 

Cat had slipped her shirt back on, frowning at the question. She wanted to see him again but couldn’t really rely on chance encounters anymore. Her fingers worked quickly in removing her bra through her shirt, “Next Saturday, meet here six in the evening,” she tossed it over to him, “You know I’ll have to come back and see you as that’s one of my favorites.” The sound of another plane approaching had Cat racing towards the Ranch, “I really have to go. I’m sorry,” she called once more glancing at him over her shoulder. Her heart fell as she saw him sit there watching her go, before lying back down looking to the sky. Please let him be here next Saturday. 

She didn’t pause until she was well into the treeline, catching her breath, listening for any indication of him deciding to follow her. He couldn’t know, not now, not ever. Then why see him again?, Cat wiped away at the tears in the corner of her eyes, Because I need him. I’m selfish and I need him. Once clear Cat started the trek back to the Ranch, climbing up the crates in the back of the house quietly. Her shoes removed as she made her way to the otherside of the house, slipping into the master bedroom as the sound of John’s shoes echoed in the house. 

Tossing the shoes in the closet Cat grabbed a towel turning on the shower locking the door behind her. She stared at her reflection in the fogging mirror, the trails of where Cooper’s hands touched her lingering in her mind’s eye. Any other life, any other time, why this one. Why did it have to be the one where she couldn’t have anyone else for fear of them suffering the same fate of being locked in this religious hell. Her fingers traced over the scarred letters, LUST, the sin she was branded with, the only thing she wanted, her only way of feeling alive again.

It wasn’t only that, no, not just that. Connection. Lust and connection, was there really any difference between them? Maybe once but not anymore. The knocking at the door jolted Cat back from her thoughts, “Mary is that you in there,” John’s voice.

She stripped down, making her way to the steaming shower, “Yeah. It’s just me John,” she called out, mumbling once in the water, “Only me and no one else.” Cat sighed letting the water run over her, the few tears she allowed herself mixing in, “Saturday should be the last time I see him,” It really should be.

#x: cat in a cowboy hat #deputy ragnacoop #also gets a little spicy in the end there so fair warning #nsft #ish

[narukoibito]

worthy of love anyway

A gift for @hillnerd / @hillyminne for all the amazing Harry Potter quarantine activities and for being just a kind, wonderful person!

Summary: The image of his own reflection caused a burst of desperate desire in his heart. The shiny badges and trophies. Proof that he was as cool as Bill, as brave as Charlie, as funny as the twins, as smart as Percy, as beloved as Ginny. He fell asleep fitfully as resentment burned in his gut as he remembered Harry’s flippant dismissal. What’s interesting about that?

Ron Weasley, the sixth son, in six scenes.

FF.net | AO3

Note: Lyrics from "Three" by Sleeping at Last. It screamed "Ron" to me from the very first listen. This is my first Ron-centric story. I hope it does him justice.

*

i. Maybe I've done enough, / And your golden child grew up. / Maybe this trophy isn't real love, / And with or without it I'm good enough.

"Look at me!" Ron said, his voice filled with awe. He only saw himself in the mirror — but instead of his skinny, gangly self, his reflection was taller, fitter than Charlie, and handsomer than Bill! There was an air of confidence to his reflection, whose Head Boy badge and Quidditch Captain badge glinted cheerfully, almost as brilliantly as the House and Quidditch Cups he carried with ease. Older, cooler, happier Ron gave him a wink.

"Can you see your family standing around you?" Harry answered with excitement.

"No — I'm alone — but I'm different —" Ron explained what he saw, glee bubbling up inside him. He desperately drank in the sight of himself, of everything he had ever wanted. But he tore his eyes away from the mirror to look at Harry, wanting to gauge his reaction. "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead." The hurt and pain that shined in Harry's eyes made Ron falter. "Let me have another look —"

"You had it to yourself all last night," he protested. "Give me a bit more time."

"You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that?"

Only? Pressure built up in Ron's chest.

"I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me —" Ron was surprised by Harry's hard shove, but was even more taken aback by his burning look.

The noise in the hall immediately disrupted the conversation. Ron quickly dragged away Harry, who seemed reluctant to leave. Even after they returned to Gryffindor tower, Harry seemed angry, which confused Ron and fueled his frustration. He burrowed deeper into his bed and drew his blankets closer, holding tight to the image of what he hoped would be his future.

The image of his own reflection caused a burst of desperate desire in his heart. The shiny badges and trophies. Proof that he was as cool as Bill, as brave as Charlie, as funny as the twins, as smart as Percy, as beloved as Ginny. He fell asleep fitfully as resentment burned in his gut as he remembered Harry's flippant dismissal.

What's interesting about that?

But when the morning light crept in and woke Ron from his deep slumber, the resentment had faded away, leaving only a resounding hunger. After a hearty breakfast, he was ready to enjoy the rest of his holiday with Harry.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed distant and detached. For the second day in a row, he pushed his food around on his plate as he stared unseeing at the eggs, the burning hunger in his eyes not matching his appetite.

"You're not eating anything," Ron said, but Harry shook his head at Ron's attempt to add food to his plate. He couldn't help but glance at the empty spot beside him, wondering what Hermione would have said to get Harry to eat.

Back in the common room, Ron tried to coax Harry out of his mood, offering to play chess or Exploding Snap. But Harry simply stared listlessly at the fire, his knees drawn toward him, looking cold and alone. Ron thought back to why he was here rather than back at the Burrow. He thought of the curt, unfeeling letter from Harry's relatives. He thought of the mixture of shock and painful hope on Harry's face at the embarrassing jumper his mum sent.

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry — that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it — "

Harry shook his head, reckless determination radiating from his body. 

Ron fiddled his new jumper, poking a finger through the yarn to make a small hole. Maybe Ron couldn't be what the mirror showed him to be. Maybe Ron couldn't replace the things that Harry saw. But at least he could try to be there for Harry.

ii. Maybe I've done enough, / Finally catching up. / For the first time I see an image of my brokenness, / Utterly worthy of love.

This was going to be the worst Christmas ever. He pressed his face further into his pillow, trying to will away the holiday. Bill and Fleur had been trying to engage him in some pre-Christmas cheer, but all Ron could think about was what today was like for Harry and Hermione. Were they shivering by a small fire and a tin of beans, looking ragged and worn? Or were they looking far better than when he left, determined, happier, complete without him?

He flopped over in the bed onto his side and wrapped his arm around himself.

It was still early if he was right about the amount of light parting the darkness through the window, and no one else in the cottage was stirring. He considered trying to sleep but knew it was useless. When he closed his eyes, it was like he could see her, running towards him, large tears streaming down her pale face, her hands reaching up to hold onto him. Him wrenching his arm away, wanting nothing more than to see the hurt and rejection shine in her eyes — for her to feel just a modicum of the pain he had felt those weeks — years, watching her put Harry first. Just like everyone else.

Ron! Hermione had cried, begging him to stay.

He felt sick to his stomach now, remembering the fury, the wicked satisfaction of being able to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, but he always seemed to. He had left, abandoning her and Harry and everything he had stood for in one fell swoop. The moment he had flung off the locket and Disapparated, all of those awful feelings had lifted, and in their stead, horror, dread, and guilt took hold.

Immediately, he tried to go back. The campsite was deserted, and he had felt ridiculously left behind.

Maybe they're better off without you, he thought morosely. Hermione would cry, and Harry would be there for her. They would comfort each other over what a prat he was, the weakest link, unable to handle the hunger, the hopelessness, the Horcrux.

Ron curled his hand into a fist. He had to go back, he had to make amends, he had to do what he had set out to do, perhaps had always prepared to do, the moment he pushed open that compartment door on the Hogwarts Express where the boy with untidy hair sat alone in second-hand clothes like him.

He closed his eyes.

He missed her.

"...Ron?"

He started at the sound of her voice, scared it had been his imagination, but he knew it was her. Hermione. Her voice was coming from the direction of…his pocket? Then he heard her again.

"…broke his wand…"

Ron fumbled out of bed, pulling out the Deluminator, which he carried everywhere. It looked exactly the same, but he heard her. He was sure of it. Hope bloomed in his chest for the first time since he left. He clicked the Deluminator, and the light went out from his room, only for a ball of bluish light to appear outside the window. It pulsed, beckoning him.

This was it.

He changed as quickly as he could, shoving his maroon pajamas and other things into his rucksack. Anticipation buzzed under his skin as he hurried out to the garden where he knew the little ball of light would be waiting for him. The light snow flurried around him as the hovering ball led him behind the shed. When they were hidden from view, it floated toward him and went straight to his chest, into his heart. It pulsed, achingly hot inside him, flooding him with memories of Hermione fussing over his homework, dancing with him at the wedding, lying Petrified on the hospital bed, brushing her lips against his cheek before tryouts, holding his hand at Grimmauld Place.

And Ron just knew what he was supposed to do; he knew the ball would take him where he needed to go.

He disappeared with a loud crack.

iii. Maybe I've done enough / And I finally see myself / Through the eyes of no one else. / It's so exhausting on this silver screen / Where I play the role of anyone but me.

His forehead stung from where the stupid badge hit him, but he barely noticed over the swell of emotion in his chest. Harry swept past him, up the stairs.

Ron stood motionless until there was no other sound in the empty common room aside from the occasional crack or hiss from the fire before he leaned over and picked up the lime green monstrosity. His fingers curled over the blaring words, POTTER REALLY STINKS.

He was feeling more and more like he had made a mistake. But why didn't Harry get it? If he had put his name in the Goblet, why hadn't he done it with him? The Goblet probably would have chosen Harry over him anyway — everyone always did. But they would have done it together. It would have given Ron just a sliver of hope, to have had just the chance of some of the endless glory of his best friend.

You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky… That's what you want, isn't it?

He sunk into the couch, staring at the fire. Unbidden, he remembered watching Harry all those years ago, when he had found the Mirror of Erised.

The guilt that had been lurking settled at the pit of his stomach, which had felt hollow for days. Hadn't he promised himself that he would be there for Harry? Didn't Ron know best of all everything that Harry didn't have? The way Harry had pressed his hand against the mirror.

You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that?

Bitterness surged up, pressing against the guilt.

Ron had pushed aside his feelings then, hadn't he? He had put being Harry's friend first. He has always done that because — because Harry was his best friend. 

He just wished that Harry would try to do the same for him.

iv. And I finally see myself / Unabridged and overwhelmed, / A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell. / But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell, / And I finally see myself.

The bark was rough against his palm as he leaned against a tree for a moment. His muscles ached from the damp, miserable cold. He had been wandering around for hours, staring hard into the darkness, waiting, willing for Hermione or Harry to appear. What he would give to hear her say his name again.

He told time by how long it took for his hands to go numb, and he would have to remember to recast a warming charm. Maybe he should rest at the base of the tree and try again in the morning.

Just as he was about to lie down, silvery light caught his eye. When the corporal doe materialized, Ron nearly yelped out in surprise. But the cry died in his throat at the sight of Harry emerging out of thin air, with a look of wonder and hunger. What was Harry doing casting his Patronus? Instinctually, he followed Harry, who followed the doe deeper and deeper into the thick forest. 

Without prompt, Harry broke out into a run. He was so quick, Ron worried he would lose him to the shadows. He stopped when the forest opened up to a clearing. But the silvery light of the doe had vanished, leaving only darkness. He strained his eyes, trying to find Harry.

Suddenly, a blue light appeared, revealing Harry and a small lake before him. Ron's breath caught in his throat, but somehow he felt compelled to stay quiet. Harry raised his wand, and Ron pressed himself against a tree, his heart clamoring loudly against his ribs. Harry spun around and knelt to the ground, the light from his wand reflecting on the black ice before him. He leaned forward, nearly pressing his face against the pool. After a few moments, he rose and began to pace.

All this time, with the Deluminator light inside him, Ron's primary concern had been to find Harry and Hermione again. It had taken his entire focus. But now, with Harry just a few feet away from him, suddenly all the fears and doubts began to fester again. The apology looming in the recesses of his mind sounded trite. What would they say? Would they even want to see him again? The cruel words he had said to them before he left rang in his head like a bell.

What if it was too late?

A sharp cracking sound jolted Ron from his reverie. He looked up, wide-eyed, to see that Harry had stripped down to his pants and was placing his wand on the ground. He couldn't…

Ron leapt up from his spot just as Harry jumped into the lake. Harry sputtered for a moment, his breath coming out in broken gusts of white. A chill ran down Ron's spine when he spotted an ominous glint around Harry's neck. Harry took one deep breath and vanished beneath the black depths.

Harry didn't reappear.

The locket, Ron realized with swelling panic. The locket must have made him do it.

He scrambled from his hiding spot to where his friend had just disappeared — movement catching his eye, but all thoughts scattering from his mind.

The dark waters reflected his pale, drawn face back at him, his blue eyes gleaming with rising fear as the seconds ticked away without Harry resurfacing. Not the face of a hero, not his brothers' or his sister's, not the glowing one in the Mirror. But the only one that could save Harry now.

The reflection's expression changed, becoming brazen and determined. Ron bit back a swear and dove into the icy waters.

v. Now I only want what's real, / To let my heart feel what it feels. / Gold, silver, or bronze hold no value here, / Where work and rest are equally revered.

The weight of the gold felt heavy and yet was lighter than he had imagined. Not that he had ever imagined this, he thought as his finger traced over the green ribbon. He looked up from the medal, out into the lake, the waves shimmering back at him. The breeze brushed against his neatly trimmed hair.

Ron wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling. The way people looked at him now was different, but he didn't feel any different. Was this how Harry had always felt?

"Hey." The wind carried Hermione's soft voice to him, and he turned. She was looking up at him, smiling despite the line of worry between her brows. An identical First Order of Merlin glinted from her chest. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, watching as she joined him on the rock. The smell of whatever potion she'd put in her hair made his lips curl up. "Wanted a moment away," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. He casually let one rest behind her, giving her something to lean on if she wanted. "I'm too famous for my own good."

She huffed in amusement before they lapsed into a comfortable silence. There was the sound of the lake, the leaves rustling in the breeze, and the murmur of everyone closer to the castle behind them.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked finally.

"I don't know," Ron admitted, watching her face drop. He swallowed nervously and fiddled with the tie Hermione had knotted too tightly. "I was thinking…of going to Australia with you. If you want."

Her eyes shined brightly, even as her face screwed up. She looked beautiful with the sunlight streaming through her hair.

"Yeah?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah," he said, pushing some of her soft, fuzzy hair from her face. "I'd even fly in an aero - thingy whatsit that Harry was talking about the other day."

"Aero-plane," she enunciated, swatting his hand away, sighed — not in disdain, as he had imagined months ago — but with amused affection. "And I already told you that it doesn't make sense to go that way."

She then launched into a long-winded explanation of the challenges of Apparation across long distances, bodies of water, and the complications of international Apparation customs. 

Sometimes he still couldn't believe it.

Least loved, always…

He shook the words away and smiled gently at Hermione.

"Come on," he said, interrupting her as she began discussing the pros and cons of Portkeys by taking her hand in his, lacing their fingers the way he had dreamt of since his fourth year. He looked over his shoulder at his family, where he saw Ginny practically shielding Harry from nosy strangers trying to get a closer look. His heart ached at the obvious absence there, and he squeezed her hand. "Let's join the others. I'm starved."

"Honestly, Ron!" she huffed predictably. "We ate just before the ceremony."

"Carrying this thing around my neck takes a lot of energy." He laughed.

vi. I only want what's real. / I set aside the highlight reel, / And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk, / Worthy of love anyway.

He stared hard at the mirror, his tongue caught between his teeth as he carefully adjusted his ginger hair with a comb. The damn butterflies in his stomach wouldn't stop fluttering.

"You look good, dearie," the mirror said in a cheery voice.

Ron eyed his reflection skeptically, but it only gave him a wink.

"You do," Harry confirmed from the door.

"Yeah?" Ron asked, pulling at his new and fitted robes. 

"At least this time it doesn't have lace."

"Har har," Ron said, but he smiled now at his reflection. Midnight blue was Hermione's favorite color. "Do you think I should have a smudge of dirt on my face, for old time's sake?"

"If you want her to kill you."

They were laughing when Ginny popped her head in, arching an eyebrow at her brother and boyfriend. "Time to take your places." She gave Harry a long look of appreciation. "You clean up nice, Potter."

"I'm the one getting married today," Ron grumbled, lightly elbowing Harry, who had flushed a deep red. Harry flashed him a sheepish grin, but Ginny stepped closer. Ron bristled under her critical gaze, but she suddenly pulled him into a hard embrace, forcing him to bend downward awkwardly. All that Quidditch training was making her way too strong.

"Oi! Watch the hair!"

"You look great," she said fiercely, hiding her face in his shoulder in a way that reminded him of when she was twelve. And just like that she was pulling away with a bright smirk on her face. "Though I still think the puce looked better on you."

He scowled as she skittered out the door.

"Better be quick before Mum comes to get you!"

"Come on," Harry said, patting him on the back. "Big day."

"Yeah," Ron said, his face already starting to ache from smiling.

He took one last glance in the mirror.

He'd never looked happier in his life.

#Ron Weasley #Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #Ron/Hermione #Romione #fanfiction #hillminne #hillnerd #gift #i wrote a thing #My writing #mirror of erised #harry and ron are brotp for life #ron weasley is a good friend #couldn't resist adding Ginny #horcrux hunt #three by sleeping at last

[queertazsecretsanta]

A gift for @nekosd43, created by @all-made-of-stardust!

You gave me a great challenge, as I've never written Taagnus before!  I actually really enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it!  Happy Candlenights!

The dish that Magnus crafted is based on this recipe I found online: https://damndelicious.net/2015/01/30/bacon-ranch-cheese-ball/

~~

Oddly enough, it was Davenport who suggested the Secret Star King.

This cycle was by far not the first one where they’d celebrated Candlenights alone on the Starblaster, decorating a bush Merle had cultivated the months before, singing a few songs, and enjoying each others company.  But up until now any gifts they exchanged were small, and somewhat superficial, as at that point being with each other mattered more than any material goods.

That ideal still stood when they arrived on Loven, a softer tranquil farming world filled with kind people and quiet nights.  The Light had landed in the mountains to the east, and upon a short journey over and up, the crew found a small colony of monks living cozily in the cold.  They were surprised to see strangers, but quite friendly.  And after Davenport did some quick negotiations, they happily produced the Light, with no argument.  The crew was ecstatic.

“Please,” one of the monks said.  “You seem like decent people.  Will you stay in our world for Candlenights?”

The whole crew fell silent.

“Candlenights?” Davenport asked, not wanting to misunderstand.

“It’s this world’s holiday festival.  We’d be delighted if you would join us.”

Someone else celebrated Candlenights.

“We’d be happy to,” Davenport answered.

So here they were, a few days later, gathered in the city hall of one of the larger cities in the world (though it really wasn’t that populated).  Around them, many people worked to decorate with festive fun, while the crew drank Fantasy Eggnog and relaxed.

“I’ve been thinking,” Davenport announced.  “If we’re going to be here during proper Candlenights, we should celebrate it properly too.”

“What do you mean?” Lucretia said, taking a sip of her eggnog.  It left a layer of nutmeg on her lip.

“We have a whole world to explore.  Why not try and come up with an interesting gift to a random person?”

He grinned.

“Why not a Secret Star King?”

Taako, who up until this point had been lazing back, relishing the breeziness that the mission had underwent, jolted forward with a start.

“Random person, did you say?” he asked.  He wasn’t sure he much cared for the idea.  On one hand, he could get Lup, and that’d be easy.  He could get Barry, or Lucretia, and it would be challenging, but interesting.

Or he could get Magnus.  And that was a problem.

Magnus, who had been sitting forward eagerly, tried his best not to shrink back at the idea.  He’d know what to get Merle, or Davenport.  Hell, he’d most definitely know what to get Lup.

Or he could pull Taako's name.  And that was a problem.

*****

Davenport seemed to be set in his decision, and not thirty minutes later he returned to the table with his captain’s hat upturned in his hand.

“Go on!” he goaded, smiling.

Taako hesitated.

“What if we get our own name?” he joked, stalling for time as the others reached in.  “We pamper ourselves?”

Davenport shook his head.

“You simply redraw.”

“I was afraid of that,” Taako muttered as he pulled a card. He peeked at it through barely closed eyes.

Magnus.

Damnit.

He glanced over at Magnus, who was staring at his own card. The man had a damn good poker face. He had a good face in general, actually.

Magnus looked up, caught him staring, and flashed him a toothy grin.

"I know what I'm doing!" he declared.

Taako had half a mind to get Merle to cast Zone of Truth.

Instead, he retreated to another room, closed the door, and slid to the floor. He clutched the card tightly between his fingers, rereading the name over and over again, like it would disappear if he tried hard enough.

Magnus.

The name itself was evocative of the man it belonged to. Bold, strong, courageous, fearless. Taako remembered when he first saw him - the goofus was taking bets on how much beer he could chug before finally being beaten in a fight. A lot of beer, apparently, because even when he was swaying on his feet he held his own and knocked the lights out of the other guy - a bully, Taako knew, which made him endeared to Magnus in a way he couldn't quite describe. And it wasn't the brute strength, the high constitution modifier, or even his muscles (though the muscles were a nice bonus) that made Taako do a double take. It was his bravado - the fact that he stood up to a bad guy, and won. It was something Taako would never be able to do. Lup, maybe. Definitely. But not Taako. No, Taako wasn't worth much in a fight, and he wasn't worth much in Magnus' eyes either. He was an idiot wizard who conjured party tricks. Magnus deserved someone leagues better. Courage and strong will. Hospitality - now that was something Taako never seemed to be able to give.

But he'd be damned if he didn't make the perfect gift for Magnus. The big guy deserved that much at least.

Besides - maybe this would be a chance to show Magnus how he felt. He sure as hell wasn't going to say it in words. Maybe not a confession - a simple gesture would suffice. He knew he would never gain anything from it anyway.

*****

Magnus found a quiet corner by a fireplace, and he sat down heavily on a chair. He looked at the paper once more and sighed, running a hand down his face.

Taako.

The name had always meant warm feelings for Magnus.  Watching the wizard practice his spells like they were nothing. Watching him laugh and joke with Lup, watching him love. Magnus knew Taako was capable of far more than the elf ever gave himself credit for, and Magnus had always supported him.

Said support had landed him squarely in the friendzone, and he didn't mind it - it meant he could still be close. Still be with him. Gods knew Taako wasn't going to go for someone like him. He deserved finesse. Beauty. Someone who could love him.  Like Magnus did.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It had been this way for cycles now, he had lost track. But now, he held a potential key to everything. Maybe Taako would never reciprocate anything. Magnus was fine with that. But maybe he could make something that made Taako happy. That showed him what he meant to him. He wasn't going to get anything out of it but a nice smile, but gods that smile would be nice.

****

This plane was built around sturdy buildings that weathered many a storm.  So Taako knew he could find somewhere with the right tools to make the perfect gift.

He had decided on creating a model version of the Starblaster.  And he refused to use transmutation to do it - no, this was going to be done by hand, and it was going to be done right.

Problem was, he didn't know how to do it.

In the main town where they had settled, Taako asked around and found a carpenter named Rosemary, who had built several of the town’s homes and had contributed to the architecture of the city hall.  Magnus would like her, and she seemed very eager to please.

She gave him a place to work, all the tools and supplies he could imagine.

“If you need anything, just holler!” she said, before shutting the door and leaving him to it.  He looked down at the workbench.

Fuck.

He had no idea where to start.

*****

The food served here was warm, hearty, and delicious, made from the freshest ingredients and by the best of hands.  So immediately Magnus knew what he was going to give Taako.

He asked around and found a chef named Bill, a kind man, who was willing to lend out his kitchen to Magnus and provide food to cook with.

“Anything for a lover’s gift!” he said with a wink.

“No, it’s not - ” But he was already gone.  Magnus sighed and looked around at the kitchen.  An oven, a fantasy fridge, a knife block, cutting boards - everything he needed.

Shit.

He had no idea where to start.

*****

The Secret Star King swap was about a week away, but to Taako it might as well have been tomorrow.  He cut wood, sanded it down, measured twice, cut once, and at the end of the day found himself with a broken piece of oak and a dowel that was way too big.

He was sighing into his hands, ready to try again, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Not going well, Ko?”

He turned to find Lup, observing his disheveled attempts.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.  “Shouldn’t you be working on your own gift?”

She waved a hand.

“Oh, mine’s simple.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Now, do you think I would tell you that?  What if I got your name, hmm?”

Taako rolled his eyes.

“Let’s hope you got something good for me then.”

He turned back to his monstrosity and let out a long breath.

“Gods know I’m not doing so hot.”

“Magnus?”

Taako tensed, then just as quickly let it go.  Figures she would guess it in one - she wasn’t an idiot.

“Yeah,” he admitted.  “Stupid thing won’t piece together, though.”

“You know you could easily use magic, right?”

“Yeah, thanks, I didn’t know that,” he said, sarcasm dripping.

“So why the extra effort?” Lup asked innocently.

“I, uh - ”  He stammered.  “Just wanna make something nice for him, y’know?”

Lup was standing with a hand on her hip, judging him.

“Uh-huh.”

“He, uh - ” Fuck.  “He..he deserves it.”

Lup shook her head, clucking her tongue.

“Oh, you’ve got it bad,” she chuckled.

Taako blanched.

“No!” he protested.  “No, it’s just a gift, I don’t want - I never - ”

“Taako?  My sweet brother whom I love very much?”

Taako gulped.

“Yeah?”

Lup reached out and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t lie to me, kay?”

It was a downright threat, and Taako stared at the floor, laughing nervously.

“Yeah, okay, find, maybe I do love the huggable idiot,” he admitted under his breath.  “But you can’t tell anyone, you got that?  Especially not Lucy, gods I can’t have her writing this shit in her books.”

Lup smirked.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”  She tightened her grip.  “If you tell him at the gift swap.”

Taako tried to reel back, but her grip was like a vice.

“Lup, you know I can’t - ”

“Hmm, then I guess I can tell Davenport to call the whole thing off.  No more Candlenights, because my dork of a brother refused to confess to his - ”

“Lulu, please.”

“ - and gods know the others would be heartbroken and - ”

“Okay, okay, fine!”

She was still smirking, but she loosened her grip and stepped back.

“That’s better.”

Taako massaged his shoulder where her fingers had dug into his skin.

“You’re a right piece of work, you know that sis?”

She grinned.

“I know.”

And she walked out of the room.

*****

Magnus didn’t cook.

Sure, he knew basic meals, picked up on a few things from Taako.  But he didn’t have the same touch Taako always carried.  Give him a wild rabbit to skin and stick in stew any day.  But the dishes Taako made were more than boring old stew.  And Taako deserved more than just stew.

He didn’t think it could be that hard.  Lup did it all the time, and she wasn’t a transmutation specialist.  She had just learned from the best - why couldn’t Magnus do the same?

He experimented around with ingredients.  Got some prime cuts of beef and lamb from the farmers outside the main city.  Spices he borrow from a few kind merchants - they were new and alien, but he figured they couldn’t be that far from those that Taako usually cooked with.  Mashed potatoes - now that he could do.

He thought.

Not wanting to officially cook the dish until the day of the gift swap, Magnus attempted smaller micro-dishes - taste samplers.  His first attempt had gone...sour was the literal phrase. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong.  Second attempt wielded a sad lumpy mess of limp carrots and overly-salted potatoes.

He was in the middle of trying something else - grilling lamb cuts - when Lup popped her head into the kitchen, startling Magnus.  He accidentally knocked the lamb into the fire, and he scrambled to turn off the heat in time.

Lup laughed as he recovered the now charred remains of the lamb.  It was a moot point anyway - the meat had been dull, grey, and dry from the start.

“Not going well?” Lup asked, looking over his large shoulder.

Magnus sighed.

“You two always make it look so easy!” he complained.

Lup patted him sympathetically.

“Didn’t know this is what you wanted to do with the cycle.  I thought you’d be out exploring the plane with Davenport.”

“It’s not for the cycle.  It’s for Candlenights.”

Lup raised her eyebrows.

“Oh?” She stepped around him, sniffing at the meat.  “So you got Taako’s name?”

Magnus looked shocked.

“N - no!  I mean - this could be for anybody!  Lucretia likes lamb, doesn’t she, maybe it’s for her!”

“Mmm-hmm.”  She picked up a carrot, examining it.  “You know, this is an awful lot of effort for just a silly old gift.  Why not just make him rabbit stew?  You know we all love that.”

Magnus shifted slightly, staring at the counter and fiddling with the burner controls.

“I think - well, assuming it is Taako, which I’m not saying it is - I think he, uh...deserves something better than rabbit stew, y’know?”

Lup’s eyes widened slowly, and a smile crept onto her face.

“Oh.  Oh, Magnus.”

“What?”

“Nothing!” she said, so quickly Magnus almost didn’t recognize the coyness in her tone.  She stepped around the counter, tracing her fingers along the ingredients he’d picked out.  She picked up a spare clove of garlic and twirled it expertly in her hand.

“He likes bacon,” she hinted.  “Just in case it is his name that you got.”

She waltzed out of the room, tossing the garlic over her shoulder.  Magnus caught it awkwardly, and stared back down at the stovetop.

******

It was two days until the gift swap, and things were not going well.

Taako had struggled to bite down the magic in his fingers, and he'd earned several splinters and a sore thumb from missing the nail with the hammer. He was gonna do this right goddamnit.

But all he had managed to do was carve some maple in the rough form of a ship. He had hacked away at it to make the interior hollow, and he wasn't even close to the proper shape. In fact, it looked somehow worse than the Starblaster had on the bad cycles, where it had taken some hits.

As he attempted to shear the top of the hull, the knife slipped, and he cut a deep gash in his finger.

"Ow, ow, fuck, stupid piece of -"

"You okay?"

He looked up, still clutching his bleeding finger. Magnus was standing in the doorway, looking concerned.

"Hey, big guy!!" Taako flung out his body, trying to cover the table behind him. The blood speckled the canvas cloth underneath. "Yeah, I'm fine, nothing to -"

Magnus was already running over to him, grabbing his hurt hand and gently bringing it up to him.

"What happened? Slip the blade?" he asked, already pulling out a spare bandage because of course he had spare bandages in his pockets, Merle wasn't always around to heal everything, and Magnus never wanted to see anyone hurt. The thought made Taako's heart swell a bit.

"Yeah, yeah," he admitted. "I'm fine though, really, I'm -"

He hissed sharply as Magnus tugged the bandage taught. Okay, maybe it was a bit worse than he thought. But Magnus was taking care of it. Like he always took care of everyone. Of Taako.

"Thanks," Taako said quietly.

"Of course!" Of course.  "Lup sent me over here to check on ya. So, what are you working on?"

He looked over Taako's shoulder and spotted the shitty wooden ship.

"Oh, cool!" Magnus declared, picking it up. "You're making Davenport the Starblaster?"

Taako let out a breath. He was gonna kill his sister.

"Yeah, totally making it for him!" Taako lied through his teeth.

"Having a shit time with it too," he murmured.

"You want me to show you some tips?"

Taako almost laughed. Yeah, have Magnus teach Taako how to make his own gift.

He shrugged. "Why not?"

He stepped forward while Magnus smiled at him, eager as ever. Taako's heart skipped a little at his dopey grin.

"Okay, so first off, you need to sand down the wood before you even start carving it, otherwise the blade will get caught in the bark."

Taako picked up the wood and the tools, ready to try again. He followed what Magnus was saying, smiling slightly.

"Alright, now you've gotta use the big chisel to carve away the big bits."

Taako looked down. There were several tools, all looking like chisels, all similar sizes.

He picked one up.

"No, the other one."

Another.

"The other one."

He moved to pick one up, and suddenly Magnus' hand was on his, guiding him to the right one.

"That one," he said softly.

Taako realized Magnus was standing right behind him, almost embracing him, his tall figure a good foot higher than Taako's. He led Taako's hand firmly but gently over to the wood and showed him how to knock away the excess pieces. His hands cupped Taako's, occasionally squeezing down, helping him with the finer details. Magnus' words continued above him, spouting instructions, but Taako was content to just listen to his deep voice. He found himself leaning backwards, ever so slightly, into Magnus' tall frame, and he closed his eyes, just for a second, breathing him in. Imagining if this could be real.

"Taako, are you -"

Magnus stiffened, aware of where Taako was, and Taako backpedaled, pushing himself up and away, but he was caught between the table and Magnus' arms. He spun, extricating his hands and holding them close to his chest as he stared up at Magnus. He was staring right back, so close. Taako could feel his breath, almost taste his lips.

Magnus was the first one to snap out of it, shoving himself backwards, blinking hard.

"Yeah, so, does that help?" he asked, his voice even. Of course it was. Nothing phased Magnus, not even his best friend making bedroom eyes at him after he practically spooned him.

"Yeah, my man, thanks for the tips!" Taako said, his voice squeaking slightly. Damnit, pull yourself together.

"Welcome." Magnus offered a smile. "Can't wait to see the final product, I bet Dav's gonna love it!"

He turned and left before Taako could get in another word, leaving Taako in a lurch. Why did he do that, what the hell was he thinking. He's not interested. He doesn't want you.

He sucked in a breath. He was going to absolutely murder his sister.

******

Taako stormed into his bedroom, but Lup was already there, leaning back on her bunk and reading a book.

"How'd it go?" she purred.

"You absolute bastard," he grumbled. "That was all your idea!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, putting the book down and examining her nails. "I just figured you needed some help, you poor thing."

Taako fumed, sitting with a dramatic thump onto his own bunk.

"You're just trying to torture me," he groaned. "Your own brother!"

"I don't see what's wrong with having Magnus help you with your present. He doesn't need to know it's for him."

Taako pointed an accusatory finger at her.

"You know very well that's not what I'm upset about."

Lup smirked.

"I told you you needed to confess by the Secret Star King. I was just... speeding up the process."

"Making things worse is what you did."

He sighed and fell back onto his pillow, a hand to his forehead. He saw Lup roll her eyes.

"Tell you what," she offered, sliding off her bunk to kneel next to his. "I know for a fact that Magnus needs help with his gift."

"What's he doing, baking a pie for Lucretia or something?"

"Something like that."

Taako sat up.

"Sis, I was joking."

"And I'm not. He's struggling so much with the cooking and I know you wouldn't want to poison poor Lucretia…"

Taako shook his head, laughing.

"Man, we are all out of our league, aren't we?"

"Well I'm not," Lup said, beaming. "I'm having a fantastic time with my gift. But you two idiots could use some help."

She stood and returned to her book.

"Just don't go fainting into the oven, alright?"

Taako grabbed his best hat and stuck his tongue out at her. She replied in turn, then buried her head in her book again.

****

Magnus was burning the food. The smoke was very quickly filling the whole room, and he was coughing, trying to figure out what was going wrong. He struggled for the off switch on the stove, and he didn't notice Taako until he dove for it, before swiftly covering the charred mess in the pan with its lid. He panted, then looked over at Magnus, who was slumped against a bar stool, still coughing somewhat.

Damnit. You were so close and now he's here, witness to your failure.

"Hey, Taako," he said weakly, as the elf tried to wave most of the smoke out the window. "Lup send you?"

"My sister was under the impression that you needed some help."

He eyed the disaster on the stove and scooped it up, taking it to the open air to cool off. Magnus was still upset, but he pulled himself up quickly. He couldn't let Taako see him like this.

“Yeah, well, I mean - ” he stammered, staring down at the food.  Not at Taako.

“Listen, my man, it takes some practice.  But it’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Magnus sighed as he sank down into his seat.  “Here I am, trying to make the perfect dish, and you - ”

“Perfect dish?  For Lucretia?”

Magnus gaze shot up to Taako.  Oh thank fuck, Lup must have bought the lie after all.

“Maggie, you know that woman will eat anything you make her, she loves your stuff.”

“I know!” Magnus said carefully.  “I just...wanted her to have something nicer.”

“Hmm,” Taako mused as he examined the remains of the mess in his hands.  “Was this bacon?”

Shit.

“Um, it was?  I was trying something out with cheese, and...”

He gestured to the wreck.  Taako smirked before dumping the whole thing into the garbage.

“Okay, if you’re going to be working with cheese, like making it fancy, you can’t just melt it over any old pan.”

He cleared a space on the counter and opened the fantasy fridge behind him, peering inside.

“What sort of flavors were you thinking?” he asked as he rummaged around.

Magnus tried to come up with something that wouldn’t clue Taako into the ruse.

“Uh...barebeque?”

Taako slammed the door and turned, glaring at him.

“Magnus, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

He dropped a block of cream cheese into Magnus’ stunned hands.

“It’s simple – whip this up with a bit of cheddar and...”

He perused the shelves before grabbing a bottle and tossing it to Magnus.  He caught it awkwardly, still staring at Taako.

“Worcestershire.”

“I, um...” Magnus examined the bottle.  “How do you pronounce this again?”

Taako laughed.

“Look, Magnus, I can’t hold your hand through this.  So I’m giving you a head start.  Fly free little bird.  Can’t wait to see if Lucy likes it.”

Magnus took him in.  He was leaning casually on the counter, smiling, but his foot was tapping in the nervous tick Magnus knew meant he was nervous.  He shouldn’t know that, it meant Taako had become everything in his mind, but that was the truth.  He knew Taako better than the elf probably thought he did, and all he wanted to do was prove to him that he could give him something amazing.  Something incredible and delicious.

His fingers tightened on the bottle.  If Taako said it would taste good, he would make it.

“Alright, Taako.  Thanks.”

“No problem, kemosabe, any time.”

His foot was still tapping, and Magnus looked at him curiously.  Taako didn’t have any reason to be nervous.  He always knew his way around the kitchen.

“I’ll try it out today.”  Magnus turned back to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of ranch dressing.  “What about this?”

Taako’s eyes widened and he made a small noise that Magnus couldn’t really get a read on.

“Maggie, that’s up to you to decide.”

He pushed himself up, and now his fingers were tapping the same rhythm.  Magnus just didn’t get it.  He put the bottle down gently as Taako backed out of the room.

“Good luck!”

He was gone before Magnus could respond.  He stared down at the ingredients in his hands.

He didn’t think Taako had actually given him any cooking tips.

******

Taako sucked in a deep breath the moment he left the kitchen.  What the hell was he thinking, giving Magnus the stuff to make one of his favorite dishes?  And why in the ever loving fuck did Magnus know exactly what ingredient (the stupid ranch dressing) would make the whole thing perfect?

“He doesn’t care, he doesn’t care, why would he care so much?” he muttered as he half-ran down the hall.

He ran headlong into Lup, and suddenly there was paper flying everywhere, Lup cursing as she knelt to try and pick it all up.

“Goddamnit, Ko, I spent all morning on this, and now you’ve gone and - ”

Taako took a second look at the paper.  It wasn’t blank, there was writing all over it.  Lup was holding what looked like an empty cover.

“Lup, what is - ”

He snatched a piece out of the air and read it over.

- was some of the best fun I’ve had in ages.  Your smile was so lovely, and your laugh made me feel – 

Lup grabbed the paper back from him, almost ripping it in half.  She was blushing.

“None of your business, is what it is.”

He eyed the cover that she was shoving all the papers back into.

“Is this for Lucretia?”

Lup didn’t answer.  She collected the final pieces before shutting the cover forcefully and standing up.

“Oh ho ho, you are not in love with - ”

“Taako, I’m gonna make you a deal - ”

She shoved a finger in his face.

“I won’t say shit about your thing for Magnus if you don’t say shit about this.”

Taako was still shocked.

“Wait.  If you got Lucretia’s name, then why the hell did you say Magnus was cooking for her?”

Lup closed her eyes and cursed.

“Lulu,” he chided.  “He pulled my name didn’t he?”

She stared at the ground.

“Maybe,” she grumbled.

“Oh no,” Taako realized.  “I just told him how to make the perfect dish for me.  Oh, god, Lup, this is going to backfire horribly, you can’t let this happen.”

“Last time I checked,” Lup said, pulling the journal closer to her.  “It wasn’t any of my business.”

She shoved past him, shouldering him hard, leaving him to think.

Magnus knew what Taako wanted.  He was going to make him exactly what he wanted.  And Taako was supposed to sit there and take it like it wasn’t the most pathetic thing to happen to him.

The gift swap was tomorrow.

He groaned and headed back to the workshop.

He had a ship to finish.

******

The morning came beautifully.  There was a layer of fresh snow on the ground, the Candlenights bush was alight, and everyone around them was celebrating.

Davenport had polished up the Starblaster’s living room with a small bush of its own, and everyone had their gifts ready.

As Taako expected, Lup gave Lucretia a journal full of stories they had shared.  Lucretia had turned beet red, and so had Lup.  Merle gave Barry a new pair of somewhat patchworked blue jeans he had made himself, and Barry gave the dwarf a Candlenights pumpkin he had tried to grow in a greenhouse.  It was deflated, and sad-looking, but Merle loved it anyway.  Davenport smiled cheerfully as he gave Lup a simple sweater with the IPRE logo, that he said he had knitted himself.

It was Magnus’ turn to present his gift, and he produced a large plate surrounded by buttery crackers.  In its center there was a giant cheeseball, covered in herbs and bacon.  Taako could smell the ranch from across the room, and his mouth watered just looking at it.  Magnus had outdone himself, and Taako had no idea why.  Why was he worth so much?  He shouldn’t have ever helped Magnus.  He should have just – 

“Taako?”

Davenport was trying to get his attention.

“Taako, it’s your gift next, right?”

“Yeah.  Coming right up.”

He left the room and returned with the Starblaster model in his hands.

He was particularly proud of himself, actually.  The beautifully sculpted hull was painted the shining silver of the real thing.  The cockpit was sleek and smooth.  The thing even had the name etched into its side, carefully done by fucking hand (and his fingers still hurt from doing it).  But it was done, and it was pretty, and from one look at Magnus Taako could tell he loved it.  Taako’s heart swelled up to just look at the big guy’s expression.

“Taako!” he gasped.  “Taako, that’s incredible!”

Taako smiled sheepishly as he set the thing down on the table.

“Thanks.  I wanted to make sure it looked good for - ”

“Davenport, that’s gotta be the best present ever!”

“Wait, what?”

Magnus turned to Davenport, who looked shocked too, but Lucretia was shaking her head.

“No, I had Davenport’s name.  Magnus, that ship’s for you.”

Magnus stared at Taako.

“For me?”

Taako was gaping at him.

“Wait, wait.  You think I made this for Davenport?”

“You were so focused on it, you were so passionate!  You must have loved Davenport so much and I didn’t want to - ”

“Davenport?  Davenport?  Excuse me, why the ever loving fuck would I be in love with Davenport - no offense Dav - ”

The gnome shrugged.

“Davenport?!”

“I didn’t think it was for me!”

“You idiot, of course it was for you!”

“Why did you put so much effort into something that I would - ”

“Okay, back up, Taako’s not answering that question, you should be answering mine, which is why the hell did you put so much effort into my gift?”

Magnus blinked at him.

“Lup said it was your favorite.”

“Lup said?!”

Taako whirled on his sister, flipping her off with both hands.  She saluted him, and he turned back to Magnus.

“Magnus, you nearly killed yourself in that kitchen.  Why didn’t you make your rabbit stew?  You know I would have been happy with that.”

Magnus looked saddened.

“I wanted it to be special.  For you.”

Taako took the words hard.

“What, so now you’re taking pity on me?” he spat.  He didn’t need this.  This extra effort.  “It’s bad enough seeing me by myself all the time, you had to go and embellish it?”

Magnus was shaking his head, but Taako wasn’t having any of it.

“You’re such an idiot, Mags, a real prize.  It’s already hard enough having to see you dance around with people on the different planes.  Dancing with people who weren’t me.  Now you gotta go and remind me that I’m just a pity project to you, someone you feel bad for.”

Magnus was staring at him.

“People who weren’t...you?” he asked, confused.

“Here we go,” Lup stage whispered to the rest of the crew.  Taako could have sworn he heard money being exchanged, but he didn’t care.

“Yeah, Maggie!” he yelled.  “Not me!  Because you’ll never dance with me, no matter how much I want it.  You wanna know why I put so much into this hunk of junk?  Because you deserve the best, Magnus Burnsides.  You wanna know why I know that?  Because I love your stupid face too much, and I’ll never give you second best, even if all you’ll do is bake me a pity cake and serve it with a smile.”

Magnus was dumbstruck.  Lup was smirking.  And Taako was panting hard, his braid unraveling at the end, his fists balled up tight.

“Look,” he spit out, storming over to the plate with Magnus’ cheese ball and scooping it up, almost spitefully.  “I’m going to enjoy this in the comfort of my own room.  You win, Lup.”

He flipped her off again, pointedly ignoring Merle and Davenport eating popcorn by the window.  His asshole of a sister must have handed it out.  Fine, whatever.

“Show’s over people,” he muttered.

“...I have a stupid face?” were the only words he heard from Magnus before Taako slammed the door behind him.

******

The worst part about all of it was that the food was exceptionally good.  Magnus had outdone himself, always and forever, like he always would, and it made Taako even more pissed.  Because of course Magnus would go all out.  Of course he would devote all this time and energy and effort into making Taako the perfect dish because the dumb idiot never wanted anyone to feel left out.  He felt bad for Taako, seeing him on his own.

“Whose fault is it that I’m alone in the first place, huh?” Taako muttered spitefully as he took another bite.  He didn’t mean it.  He didn’t blame Magnus - he blamed himself.  But that wasn’t Taako’s area of expertise, so he threw the ball back in Magnus’ court because having an imaginary scapegoat for your own problems is better than confronting them yourself.

There was a tentative knock on the door.  Taako groaned, setting aside the food delicately (he still wanted to eat more) as he forced himself to his feet and stormed over to the door.

“Lup, I swear to god, Fantasy Jesus, Jeffandrew, and literally everyone in the Celestial Plane that I am gonna - ”

He wrenched the door open, ready with a string of curses.  But it wasn’t Lup.  It was Magnus.

“Hi,” he said timidly.

Taako moved to close the door, but Magnus stuck his foot out and caught it.

“Please,” he offered, desperation in his voice.  “I just wanna talk.”

Taako rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, throwing his hands up in the air as he walked back to his bunk and the plate of delicious food.  He threw himself onto the bed and waved a hand dramatically, inviting Magnus to enter.

“Not much to talk about, my man,” he said, pointedly ignoring Magnus’ puppy dog eyes.  The whole thing reeked of the adoration that Magnus usually poured into things.  Selfless loser.

“I didn’t mean any of what you said back there.  I promise.”

Taako took another spiteful bite.  God it was good.

“Listen, you’re the team lover.  We’ve all heard the stories, we know each other.  It’s been, what, fifteen cycles?  Twenty?  The idea that you wanna care for all of us isn’t anything new, Mags.  I get it.”

“Taako, I do care about you, just like everyone else, but I - ”

“That’s all I gotta hear, Maggie.” Taako finished his food, savoring the last taste of bacon on his tongue.  Magnus was struggling for words.

“The Starblaster,” he said slowly.  Taako knew he meant the model ship Taako had slaved over, as much as he wanted him to be talking about the one they were in.  If only so they didn’t. Have. To talk. About this.  “Why were you so focused on it?”

Taako curled his legs up to his chest and looked out the window, away from Magnus.

“I told you why,” he said dully, almost under his breath.

“I guess I don’t...you’re always so bold, Taako, I...I never knew you’d want me.”

Taako recoiled further and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, well.”

Why wasn’t Magnus leaving?  Things would be so much better if he just wasn’t there.

“Taako.”

Magnus’ hand was on Taako’s, and he wanted to leap back, hissing, because no one touched him except Lup, at least not like this, not when he was vulnerable and messy and dear god why did Magnus have to look like that?

His eyes were big and watery, there was a hesitant smile on his lips, and he looked cute, the absolute fucker.   He was making Taako’s heart skip three beats at a time, and it wasn’t fair.

“What do you care anyway?!” Taako snapped, shoving himself up from the bed and marching to the door.  Magnus’ hand hovered midair where it had been touching Taako’s skin moments before.  “We’ve both played our hands, made our beds.  Now I’ve gotta lie in mine, and you in yours, and we’ll move on!”

He yanked open the door and pointed firmly at the hall outside.

Magnus looked heartbroken, and it made Taako furious.

“Why do you have to look like that!” he cried.  “It’s bad enough you look down on me - ”

Magnus stood suddenly.

“Taako, no - ”

“ - and now Taako’s gone and opened his big mouth and said shit you were never meant to hear and I - ”

Magnus was in front of him, towering over him with his big frame and muscles that could hug Taako so warmly and goddamnit.

“Taako, I love you, okay?” Magnus shouted.

“Yeah!  That’s exactly the problem!”

Magnus shook his head and grasped Taako’s shoulders, and as much as he wanted to shove them off and run the other way, he found himself rooted to the spot.

“Taako, I don’t pity you!  I don’t want you to feel good, or have nice things, or be cared for because I’m obligated to!  I want perfection for you, Taako, because I love you!”

Taako opened his mouth for a retort and stopped short, one finger raised in retaliation.

“You - you’re saying that you specially cooked a meal - ”

“Yes.”

“And did all this work - ”

“Yes.”

“And asked my fucking sister to help you - ”

Magnus stuttered.  “I d - didn’t exactly ask her - ”

“Oh, shut up you lovable idiot.”

Taako threw himself forward and kissed Magnus with as much as he could muster in the span of three seconds, before he pulled back, his hands still gently grasping Magnus’ shirt.  Magnus looked surprised, and immediately Taako tried to push himself away.

“Never should’ve...stupid, I’m so fucking stupid...I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m - ”

He didn’t realize what was happening until Magnus’ lips were on his, and they were kissing again, longer and deeper.  Taako felt the door close quietly behind him before Magnus had lifted him into the air, pressing him against the door and wow, it felt like flying kissing this man, this big stupid lug who cared too damn much for his own good.

In a breath that he almost didn’t want to take, he looked at Magnus, at his soft eyes and dorky smile.

“I fucked up,” he whispered.  “I didn’t know - ”

“You’re forgiven,” Magnus said softly, kissing him gently on the cheek.

“That bacon was really fucking good.”

“I know.”  He was kissing his neck now, oh my god he was kissing his neck.

“How much do you think the team lost on the bets?” he asked, trying and failing to distract himself from Magnus’ strong arms and his careful fingers.

“Bet they didn’t expect this,” Magnus breathed into his ear, and Taako stopped talking then, because even if this was a fluke, a one off, Magnus’ pity going to the extreme -

But it wasn’t.  He felt that, somewhere inside of him.  Magnus had a tiny ship and Taako had a licked-clean plate to prove it. This wasn’t going to go away.

Somewhere down the hall, Lup listened in on the bedroom and beamed as she collected her winnings from everyone around her.

Next to her, Lucretia started a new page in her books.

#nekosd43 #all-made-of-stardust #queercandlenights #taz #the adventure zone #taako #magnus #taagnus #fic

[ayellowcurtain]

Finding Polaris - Chapter 3

Finding Polaris - Chapter 3

-

They managed to find a better bedroom that they could share. It only took a few hours exploring the neighborhood and sitting around the hotel hall. It has two queen-size beds, some nice view of the beach and a fancy bathroom.

The hotel even gave them some snacks as an apology for the long wait. They ate everything in a minute, exchanging some of the snacks because Lucas doesn’t like peanuts so Eliott ate the chocolate bars that had it and Eliott hates cherry with chocolate so Lucas had to eat the tiny cake with it.

Lucas is the first one to get in the shower, looking at Eliott for a second too long before entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Eliott lays down on his bed, staring at the white bathroom door, listening to the water hit the bathtub after running down Lucas’ body. The other one is listening to some song Eliott doesn’t recognize. It’s not too loud and Eliott finds it so soothing. After a long day, he could sleep right there, listening to the water and the music in the distance, almost like a whisper, calming his nerves.

But he needs to take a shower, he’s feeling dirty and right now nothing sounds better than a hot, relaxing shower before bed. The sheets feel so soft underneath him. And there’s a heavy duvet that he can’t wait to throw on top of him tonight, the weight will help him relax.

He checks his phone, he has a million unread messages again. He texted his parents as soon as they got to the hotel, telling them that he was ok, that he would be back in a few days. Apparently, it wasn’t enough to calm them down. He doesn’t open the messages, just check the previews and it’s more than enough.

“Hey, hm, you can go now, if you want.” Eliott jolts on the mattress, letting his phone fall on his chest.

“Putain...thanks!” He sits on the bed, leaving his phone on the nightstand as he watches Lucas put all his dirty clothes away in a bag.

“I can borrow you some clothes if you want.” Lucas sits on his bed, drying his hair with his towel. His hair is pointing to every possible direction for a second before he can run his fingers through his hair strands, putting it all in place again, still waiting for an answer.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna go shopping one of these days, you can go with me if you want.” Lucas smiles at him, nodding his head, getting up to find a t-shirt to put on. Eliott creates the courage to leave his comfy bed, taking his socks and coat off, leaving it wherever it lands. He doesn't have clean clothes so he'll have to improvise for the night. Lucas lies down on his bed, sighing and they both laugh. When he's about to close the bathroom door, he can see Lucas settling underneath the covers.

Eliott takes his time in the shower. When he gets out of the steamy bathroom, the bedroom is completely dark already and Lucas is sleeping, drooling a little on his pillow. Eliott smiles, staring at him as much as he can now that the other one is not looking, collecting his towel from the floor, hanging in the bathroom with his own towel, walking to his bed. As soon as he’s sure that he’s completely covered and that Lucas is still sleeping, he takes his dirty underwear off, dropping it on the floor at his pile of clothes and he’s asleep before he can even realize it.

-

It takes a minute for Eliott to understand what’s happening.

He ran away, this is a hotel bed. Lucas .

He’s poking Eliott on his shoulder, no fabric between them. The duvet is still covering most of his body, he bundled himself carefully last night so Lucas wouldn’t wake up to Eliott lying naked just two meters away from him.

Eliott finally turns, laying on his back, smiling to Lucas, the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. Soft, messy, brown hair, big, perfect, blue eyes, and puffy and (a little bit dry) lips.

“Everything ok?” The other one nods, fixing his hair again, taking his hand off of Elliott's naked shoulder. Eliott tries to keep his eyes on Lucas’ but he can’t help but notice that Lucas is already wearing his black trunks.

“Yeah, I just wanna go to the beach and you never wake up so I decided to wake you up.”

“Why?” Eliott stretches himself, pushing the duvet down to his last rib, smiling when he notices that Lucas’ eyes wander around his naked torso. Lucas blinks, trying to focus, looking at Eliott’s eyes again.

“Why?” He frowns when his brain seems to understand that there was a question, throwing his beach towel over his shoulder, crossing his arms.

“Yeah. " We don’t know each other" , remember? And now you need me to go to the beach with you?” Lucas rolls his eyes with Eliott’s teasing voice, raising his brows, his cheeks starting to blush and Eliott sits on the bed, probably looking so gone for the boy already. But both of them are still having fun with it so that's all that matters.

“Yes, I do. You’re coming or not?” Lucas looks down, slipping his feet to put on his flip flops.

“Give me a minute and we’ll go.” He raises his eyebrows and Lucas smiles, turning back and getting out of the room, saying something about eating breakfast.

-

Eliott can’t remember the last time he spent a whole morning just lounging at the beach. Lucas seems to be at ease. His skin is already starting to tan and he doesn’t seem bothered by it, reading a book and smiling every time their eyes meet.

It’s been a long time but Eliott knows how he’s starting to feel. It’s a mix of too much beer, too much time under the sun and the heat and not much food, he’s suddenly very close to being drunk. He knows himself well enough so he stops before it gets too much.

For now, it just feels good, like finally relaxing completely, on holiday. Lucas is not much different. His book is already forgotten by his side while he lays down on his beach hammock. Eliott sits up, looking at the sea in front of them, moving the sand underneath his feet.

“I’m gonna built a castle.” Lucas opens one eye, looking at him and smiling lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s willing to help for now so Eliott decides to start without him, pushing his hammock chair away so he can sit on the sand and still be underneath the beach umbrella.

He’s focused on his work but he manages to quietly look up a few times and now Lucas is just laying on his side, judging Eliott’s skills to build a sandcastle. When he’s done, he sits back on the sand, showing his castle to Lucas and waiting for his thoughts.

“It’s good...for you but I’m sure any kid could do it better.” Eliott rolls his eyes, sitting back on his hammock chair, cleaning the swimming shorts that Lucas borrowed him. Lucas sits as well, looking around, distracted.

“I’m hot. Can we get some ice cream?” Eliott doesn’t wait for an answer, getting up and stretching. Lucas follows him, doing the exact same, putting his cap back on. They collect their towels and go back to the main street, trying to find the popsicles that Eliott is dreaming about.

“What’s your favorite ice cream?” Lucas starts walking backward, right in front of Eliott, smiling and making the other one smile while he tries to think on his favorite flavor.

“I’m really bad at choosing this kind of things…What’s yours?” Eliott tries to look over Lucas’ shoulder, making sure that he won’t stumble on something.

“Maybe dark chocolate, I’m not that picky.” He shrugs, starting to walk by Eliott side again.

“You seem picky.” Eliott teases him, poking his cheek with his index finger. Lucas looks at him, shaking his head.

“No, I don’t! And why you’re bad at making choices?” Lucas asks while he’s putting his shirt back on. It looks like very soft fabric and it’s a little big for Lucas, exposing his clavicle.

“I don’t know. I like everything so I can never choose.” He stops abruptly, putting his hand on Lucas’ shoulder, smiling when he pulls Lucas inside one ice cream place.

Lucas looks at every option and the guy behind the counter offers him a bunch of flavors to help him decide which one he’ll get. It’s a small spoon just for him to have a taste but he manages to share it with Eliott, offering the spoon directly in his mouth.

He decides for dark chocolate and chocolate chips with cookie dough. He offers to share it with Eliott so he decides for something different, going with his first instinct: a blue popsicle. It seems refreshing and that’s all he needs after half a day laying underneath the sun.

The place is almost full so they have to wait for a little. Lucas watches everyone around them carefully, resting his forearm on Eliott’s shoulder even though he’s shorter and Eliott can’t help but smile, following Lucas’ eyes around the crowd.

Eliott is usually very closed off, has the worst time when having to talk to strangers but it feels different with Lucas. He’s so easy going, smart, kind and very handsome. When they’re leaving with their ice creams, Lucas is already talking to the guy who works there like they are friends, promising to come back before he goes back home.

-

Lucas is staring. It’s not like Eliott is a bad dancer, it’s just that he’s doing the dance that you only do when you’re alone, inside your empty house while listening to your favorite song.

And Eliott is doing it in the middle of the street while holding his blue popsicle and singing along to the music that comes from one of the restaurants. He stopped Lucas suddenly, trying to see where the music was coming from, he likes the music, apparently, very much. He tried to make Lucas dance with him but Lucas can’t dance, especially not in a public place with a bunch of strangers passing by.

They’re right next to the beach, at a very touristic city with a crystal clear ocean to see and a bunch of fancy stores to shop, so there’s a lot to look around, so it’s not like Eliott has anyone’s attention but Lucas’.

Eliott seems to be enjoying himself, forgetting completely about his popsicle while he steps to one side then to the other, singing to Lucas. He laughs, shaking his head, acting like he’s not having fun, but he notices the popsicle starting to melt, painting Eliott’s hand and wrist in a very light blue color.

Eliott stops dancing when Lucas carefully holds his wrist, licking the side of his hand like it’s nothing. Eliott is in awe, watching it. It only lasts a second but it feels like days. He swallows hard, still looking when Lucas finally lets go of his wrist and looks at Eliott in the eyes. Lucas doesn’t seem to realize how it affected Eliott, so he just smiles as nothing happened.

But Eliott is still in shock, his eyes are probably giving it all away because Lucas starts blushing a little, looking away.

“I think we should go back to the hotel.” Eliott manages to say and he can hear how his voice sounds shaky and rough.

“Ok…” Lucas agrees, looking at Eliott and they start walking again.

They walk in complete silence all the way up the hill to their hotel. Eliott’s popsicle is forgotten on the first trash can he can find. His hand feels sticky but for once it doesn’t bother him, it’s like a reminder of Lucas tongue against his skin for the first time.

He can’t help but look at Lucas while they’re waiting for the elevator. Thankfully, it’s empty and they keep staring at each other with no shame, maybe searching for some reassurance on the other one’s eyes.

Lucas gets inside their bedroom first, with his hands behind his back, holding each other. And Eliott closes and locks the door. His heart is pounding, he’s almost sure it’s just out of desperation to get closer, to touch Lucas and so their hearts can finally meet midway.

Eliott doesn’t think he has a type but it’s nice when he comes closer and Lucas’ face fits perfectly in between his hands and it’s even better when Lucas has to look up to find Eliott, so maybe his type is someone smaller, that he can hold with care, with eyes that seem to be begging him to take all his worries away, to answer all his questions, demanding Eliott’s full attention and care and he’s more than willing to stop the world, hold it and hand it to Lucas because he deserves it.

The air feels heavy, cold and light, all at the same time. They never kissed before, they met two days ago and still, they need each other very badly right now. Eliott caresses Lucas’ cheeks slowly, looking in his eyes just one more time to make sure that he wants it too.

It’s their first kiss, very slow at the start just because they want it to last forever, lingering every time their tongues touch. Eliott sucks on Lucas lower lip slowly, pressing his fingertips against the back of Lucas’ neck and the other one melts just a little bit more against Eliott, his hands holding Eliott’s forearms like he’s grounding himself.

They stumble around the room, stopping when Lucas finds one bed. Eliott steps back slipping his hands out of Lucas’ face, finally letting himself open his eyes and Lucas looks exactly like he imagined. His hair is a little bit messier, his puffy lips are a little bit swollen and his eyes…

Lucas’ eyes feel like they’re as deep as the ocean, inviting but with so many doubts as well. Eliott stares at them while he puts his hands on the back of his neck, pulling the shirt, dropping it on the floor and Lucas does the exact same right after.

He never really touched Lucas but just looking at his bare torso now, his abs contracting and relaxing with every breath, he knows Lucas’ skin is warmer than his and it’s so inviting. As soon as both of them get rid of their swimming shorts, Eliott steps closer again, kissing Lucas again, his cheeks are starting to blush. They got naked too fast and the other one could see everything so Eliott steps closer, kissing all their insecurities away and in a second they’re back to being comfortable, lying down on the bed carefully.

Their hands have a lot of new skin to touch and to explore but they keep holding each other’s faces and shoulders like they need to make sure that they really exist.

They’re strangers but it doesn’t feel like it. Their bodies seem to know their ways, how fast or slow it should go. Nothing seems too weird or too intimate or exposed. It’s the best sex Eliott ever had and ever will have.

Eliott catches himself looking at Lucas from time to time with his eyelids half-closed and the other one always seems gone, never fully opening his eyes, constantly biting his lower lip when they’re not kissing. His ears are filled with moans and whimpers echoing around the room but he can’t be sure if it’s him or Lucas. His hands still wander around Lucas’ body, not knowing his favorite place to stop, but the hair it's recurring, Lucas' hair is soft and so inviting, but it keeps getting on Lucas' face and Eliott has to hold it at the top of his head so he can still see Lucas' reactions, his other hand is at his waist, feeling the goosebumps on his tanned skin.

They can’t seem to get enough of each other, rolling in bed after the first round, trying to find new positions, new skin to touch and lick and kiss and Eliott can’t help but smile, pulling Lucas closer by the neck and he smiles against Eliott’s lip before kissing him again.

#skam france #elu fic #finding polaris fic #I love this chapter!! #elu

[hozukitofu]

the kids are doing espionage

He would like to preface everything by a singly stated -

It was Qing's idea.

He is only a simple tech boy, a robotic engineering undergrad, someone who just wants to corrupt enough of the capitalistic system and its funds to fund his recycling robot, to delete the littering problems around campus.

The facts that he happens to know like one bad form of martial arts and by virtue of being a robotics student, great with tools and improvised weapon creation, are irrelevant. Besides the point.

But Qing is deep down, within that core of his questionably existing heart, an opportunist - an investor of assets. She sees potential, she invests in it. That's always how it goes.

Zizhen is eating, simply existing, thinking about robots and redeeming himself at a round of chess with uncle Shao when Qing barges into his absolutely mundane life, waving a USB stick in front of his nose, crowing about how she cracked the capitalism code.

Normally he would care.

"That's great, cool, jie, but -" he doesn't even have time to bat the excited blonde away before a proposition is coerced into his food.

"You! Wanna be an anti-government agent?"

Zizhen almost drops his fork.

"I'm sorry," he blinks, not even bothering with his food any longer because his appetite had taken a nose dive out the processing plants by the back of the college. "What. Did you just say?"

Qing was going to elaborate, but he doesn't let her.

"No, it was rhetorical - jie! I'm not becoming your agent for hire! I'm too soft for killing people!" He denies, vehemently, because look at him! He wears clothes that have to oblige by fluffy and big standard, and his hair cannot be let loose outside of the house if it isn’t wavy and bouncy. 

Doctor Wei calls him marshmallow unironically, on top of Romantic Guy, with debatable nuances under the friendly moniker because that’s his life goal, to be as soft and sweet as humanly possible. He is only someone who strives to dismantle the system in the ways he clumsily knows how to, but he always goes back to helping people at the end of the day. 

Becoming a hitman for hire is never something he would consider, or ever would. 

Qing badgered and wheedled, bombarded him with the benefits, the sheer overwhelming scale of everything good and pure tipping and burying onto his side of the balancing plates, to which he avoids, like one would, if a pack of mosquitoes with malaria starts heading your way. He had blended into the crowd. Worn disguises to avoid this woman's hawkish eyesight. Climbed out a window to avoid persecution and inevitable screeching. Legitimately broke into a dead sprint across the canteen as soon as he spotted Song-Xiao Qing looking for him.

One of these days she will catch up to him, and she will skin him alive, but not today. He weaves around busy college students arriving and leaving their lecture halls, his long arms tucked closely to his chest so that nobody snags them off him. It is a laborious chase that she incurred onto his person, and he dreads the reality where she finally hacks into a computer somewhere and puts a tracker onto him so that she can be two steps ahead of him and then she can beat him into the ground on the basis of him avoiding her like she will personally break all of his robots inside and out.

"Ouyang Zizhen!" He hears a death roar, and runs faster.

Gotta put that threefold authentication code into all of his login devices so that the two steps pre-planning stage doesn't happen. Yes. But run first.

-

He’s fallen asleep across a horizontal surface - he’s pretty sure that this is the first horizontal surface his eyes park on and his brain immediately decreed that We’re napping. Now. ASAP pronto LOL.

He comes back to the world of living when he is toed awake by a person, voice vaguely threatening and familiar to his ears -

“Ouyang. Ouyang.”

“Noo,” he whines, thinking it to be his father. “Dad I have the day off.”

“Zizhen. You will wake up or I will walk all over your face. Your choice, sweet guy.”

He sits up, immediately awake.

Look, he’s a coward. He has high sensors in-built to detect approaching danger to his person. It’s how he made it beyond high school to go where he does now. It’s nothing to be proud of - surviving, just barely, in this cutthroat world is a goddamn miracle, if he has to say so himself. So what if he’s a coward. He’s still alive. That’s what matters.

Also he has a feeling that if he had keep on sleeping, he will open his eyes in the next life, as a bug. Because he had been horrifically murdered in this life and that death was so bad that a bug’s body is the only viable and painless reincarnation the gods deem fitting for little poor him.

“I’m up,” he wheezes, vertigo slamming onto his head. “I’m physically with you but my brain had just taken a holiday. Please allow it some time to return.”

“I don’t need your brain for this,” Qing beams at him, mouth spreading in a Joker-ish feral look. “I’ve got a favour to ask.”

I’ve got a favour to ask sounds exactly like those questions that ask you for something but if you deny, you will die on sight. 

The way his upperclassman is smiling at him gives him all the answers he has. 

“What,” he grouses, mouth twisting, pulling his hoodie even more over his forehead and eyes, covering the majority of his freckles. They’re still here despite the lack of hours he spends in active avoidance of the sun and the majority of this goddamn school hates the sight of freckles like they’re something contagious so his instincts mostly had been ‘cover up’.

“Someone took something from me and I need a boy to get it back for Yours Truly,” she smiles, still feral and not the least friendly.

He squints suspiciously at her. “Why a boy. Is this hard even for you, lawbreaker extraordinaire?”

“I need a boy, you stupid robot builder,” she rolls her eyes, throwing a hairband onto the table in front of him. “Because someone from Gusu took my things and on virtue of me being a woman, I can’t enter without the security shooting me on sight.”

He groans out loud and slumps even further onto the table, hoping to become one with the recycled plastic. 

“I don’t even go there. They’ll shoot me on sight too. They have stun guns -”

She cuts him up, retying her space buns. He lets out a huff of hysterical air and rethinks back to every wrong decision he had ever taken in this life. 

“Which they’re not allowed to use on trespassers, chill. Listen, how you get it isn’t my problem. Get me the thing and I’ll squander all the favours you owe me.”

This sparks his interest. A-Qing is stingy. The stingiest person he has the misfortune of ever running across. She studies economics. She lives on cash alone. Just. Cash. She hoards money and favours and then harvests them like produce of her questionable farm.

Ouyang Zizhen owes Qing a lot of money for the completion of his robotics projects and the launch of his career as a junior lab assistant to the research team of the mechanical engineering department. She did all that, knowing that her investments were wise, and she constantly lords the favour over his head.

It sounds great, to get rid of one Song-Xiao Qing infinitely, but he can’t help but wonder if the catch, beyond You’ll die if you trespass Gusu like the absolute moron that you are. This sounds like it’s much more than just a suicide run. It sounds more like...a test? Of sorts? 

“All the favours?” He looks up, hood slipping, his freckles all in glorious sight and judging his upperclassman. “Are you sure?”

Qing-jie grins at him, looking every bit like the crook she is. “Are you?” 

“Heck, yes, why do you even ask. But I feel like you’re betting too much on this. How do you know if I’ll come back for you to squander all your favours for me? Seems fishy.”

“You’ll come back,” she waves him away. “I wouldn’t swear on it if I’m not sure. So, what of it, marshmallow? You want in?”

He can’t say no anyways. “You know I can’t say no,” he scowls, and refuses to shake her hand. “If I don’t come back, tell my father to take all my robots. And burn me paper money.”

Qing cackles right at his face. “You’re exaggerating, kid. It’ll be fine. I swear on it.”

“Your words are all lies anyways! Shut up!”

-

Research on how to get into Gusu? Actually kinda fun.

Actually sneaking into Gusu unscathed? Less fun. Bordering on traumatic.

Technically he knows the blueprints. Technically he knows that the scanning gates at the southern entry can fit an entire person if they just, like, lie down and limbo through the gaps of the plastic closing gates. Technically eight twenty-seven in the night is the time gap that he can safely limbo through without getting zapped by a stun gun. Technically from here he can just jog to the international student’s dorm and scale to the second floor, open the window fourth from the right, slide in, get the thing from under the desk, get out the way he did before, go home, change his name, get plastic surgery, genetically rewrite his fingerprints and DNA makeup, move back to Baling, call it quits.

Technically he knows all of this, but he had just slid through a scanning gate and his heart is trying to punch out of his own ribs. He’s wheezing as if he climbed up a mountain twice for no reason at all. None of this makes sense. Why is he here. He should go home. There’s still time. Father will be tired and disappointed but when is he not. 

No, his brain, traitorous, but also wanting to get rid of the human leech Song-Xiao Qing, mutters. No we will get back that bundle for Her Highness and then leave her presence indefinitely. That’s what we’ll do. 

He swings his feet, nothing short of Spiderman, into the intended room, huffing as it wastes him no effort. 

Too easy. Smells exactly like a trap.

It’s nearly curfew, except that people haven’t been rushing back through the easy way in, because he saw people coming out and they pretended to not see him as he came in. Are they stupid. Are they not going to come back for roll call and suffer the wrath of Lan Qiren? Or worse, He Who Must Not Be Named.

He reaches for the bundle, stuffs it under his hoodie, and prepares for take off, when a door swing open and someone walks in, without turning the lights on. 

His danger alarms not only went off, but into overtime and exhaustive underpaid labour. 

“Ouyang?” He hears, hissed in the dark. 

He should have covered his face, because wow he didn’t think he was that popular outside of his own robotics class for setting off that fire alarm back in first year. But. He is digressing from this imminent danger! This voice. That sounds distinctly similar.

“Do we know each other?” He hisses, crouching back in a Spongebob stance, eyes narrowed at the boy in the cats-covered face mask. He can’t make a run for it here but he can try for the knee caps. 

“Yes. Oh my god, yes,” the person pulls his face mask down and lo and behold, it’s -

“Lan? Lan Jingyi?” He gapes, while sidestepping a stray tennis ball lobbing at his head. “Why are you here?” 

Jingyi shoots back at him - “I go here. Why are you here?”

He throws up one hand, the other preoccupied with the bundle - “Qing-jie!”

“Bad answer, but expected,” Jingyi tuts his tongue, and shoves him out of the way. “You don’t seem the type to engage in trespass and theft.”

“Ha ha, pot calling the kettle black,” he sneers back, tracing back his steps. “Why are you here here. I know you go here, but this isn’t your room. Or anyone else’s room that you are affiliated with. It’s the international student wing. You never answered my question.”

He would not receive any answers because there are footsteps, grave and reverent footsteps, that bring pandemonium outside the corridor and Jingyi, not even thinking twice, shoves him into a wardrobe, finger on his lips.

“Quiet,” the boy hisses. “And when he’s gone, you can scram.”

Zizhen thinks that is the end of it, but somehow his bundle! Had gone missing from under his hoodie! When! And how!

“Lan, give that back!” He hisses, almost lunging and falling out of the closet. Jingyi shushes him even louder, forcing the doors to close in on his nose and shoes.

He grabs onto a wrist, clinging onto the arm stubbornly. Jingyi jostles his shoulder violently like he’s got himself a human-sized limpet that won’t let go and he elects to kicking it back to the depth of the closet, telling him to ‘stay put, come on, don’t make this harder for us’.

Zizhen is shoved back into the darkness of a small enclosed space with hangers falling onto his head and clothes dropping onto his shoulders. The tracking sticker he placed on his fingertip had migrated from him to the inside of Lan Jingyi’s hoodie. Now he waits.

There is a polite knock - because that’s Lans for you, polite even in walking and knocking. 

Jingyi answers the door with a soft - “Hello, uncle.”

For a moment Zizhen thought he actually screwed up and somehow stumbled head first into Lan Qiren of all people on the night he attempted trespass and theft, but he listens some more, waiting for the dulcet tones of disapproval that the Lan Headmaster is so famed for dishing out at his relatives slash pupils.

“Jingyi,” he hears, and. Well.

This is worse than Lan Qiren. Somehow he had messed up even worse than Lan Qiren.

Lan Wangji, the Hanguang-Jun, is in the same room as him. The professor reliable for dishing out punishments at Gusu. The resting disappointed man. Doctor Wei’s long-term crush and object of pursuit. He’s caught. He’s gone. They’re going to string his corpse like a disappointing sight from here so that all across the country, people can see what happens when idiot college boys who sneak into prestigious Gusu get as a punishment. 

He is suddenly religious. He asks for protection from the Buddha to the corner ghost to the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit. 

“I suggest you return to your own dorm,” Lan Wangji gravely - and flatly - informs Lan Jingyi. “Unless you want to introduce me to your friend?”

Lan Jingyi, for someone doing a theatre degree, is woefully awful at lying. He starts laughing hysterically and like a bloody hyena under noise suppression and the target of at least twenty stun guns and he’s lost all sense of control so now his fight or flight response is to laugh. 

Ouyang Zizhen regrets not leaving his father with a dying letter. It’ll be awful and humiliating to find him as a human flag on the top of Gusu’s flagpole. 

“What friend, Uncle Wangji? It’s only me here!” Jingyi hacks out hysterically, as footsteps start heading his way, purposeful and brisk.

There goes living through tonight then. 

“Hmn, what’s in the closet, Jingyi?” Hanguang-Jun asks, as the doors of the wardrobe rattle and -

promptly stop. 

Jingyi, because he’s panicking and somehow is still the greatest and most shocking improvised line under possibly murderous circumstances, blurts out, completely and utterly from nowhere.

“That closet is fine. It has no one in it! Well, not me anymore!”

Zizhen can barely swallow down the wheeze that tries to climb its way out of his nose because what. 

To his credit though, Lan Wangji stops his advance onto his hiding place, and promptly takes Lan Jingyi out of the room, so he hopes that he’s not being thrashed thoroughly for well, being gay, but in keeping it and using it as a distraction tactic on their Hanguang-Jun.

Zizhen quickly kicks the doors open and tumbles out, sliding the window up and climbing out, his watch telling him dimly that he has two more minutes before curfew comes and security tightens. He would check on Lan, but he’ll be fine. Hanguang-Jun isn’t a blind rule follower as the people make him out to be - by people, he meant just Doctor Wei, who went through a period of time in his life actively cursing and mooning over Lan Wangji, and it’s entertaining and just embarrassing to bear witness to. No. Bad memories. Let’s forget that and go back and report to Qing-jie.

He’s going to start breaking ankles the next time Lan Yuan asks for a big hang out.

-

“He took the bundle from you? Without touching you?”

“I snuck in the death place for that stupid bundle and that’s all you cared about?”

“Damn Lan. Anyways, good job, it’s fine, I’m seeing the golden trio in, like, ten hours. We can haggle the bundle back.”

He hears this, but he also has the tracker sticker. Does it work? Does it not work? Unclear. He’s not too sure. He hasn’t been doing this illegal theft and tracking gig for long. He lets Qing-jie and her favours reinstate themselves as constant reminders in his life as he stumbles back to his laptop and kick starts it to see how he’s going to not set a hoodie and a person on fire. 

-

The good news is Lan Jingyi and his Lan Approved Hoodie will not be catching on fire.

The even better news is that he can get rid of Song-Xiao Qing for life now, because he knows where the package is.

The bad news is that the package is in Jin Rulan’s home. His room, to be specific.

Okay, so maybe he met Jin Rulan a few times when he went to archery tournaments to cheer on Lan Yuan, a friend but also practicing archer to become as great as Wen Ning, Olympic-level archer. Maybe he and Jin Rulan had gotten into a few arguments over pointless things in the past, like all stupid middle schoolers do. The point is that since his friend is a friend of Rulan, he has the honour of being flung at, in the face, with the address of his sizable family manor, because Jin Rulan can and will, with no preamble or social niceties, and so now Zizhen knows where he lives.

Not that a simple Google search wouldn’t tell him which place this is, but being reminded with Jin Rulan, a runt then, probably a runt now, he hasn’t seen the kid in like, two years. A-Yuan doesn’t want him to start testing his robots on real life people and everyone who had ever interacted with Zizhen knows who’s first on his list to be humanly pitted (sorry, tested) against his robots. 

He bikes to the manor, easily buzzes his way in with a screwdriver and some tinkling with the system, and strolls right through the front door.

He did do research before this. Everyone’s out. Jin Rulan is out. He’ll just take the bundle and leave, and they don’t have to talk about it anymo -

Lan Jingyi tackles him to the floor from behind the door to Jin Rulan’s room, with a distant bark of a guard dog and Jin Rulan’s dulcet tones shrieking the heavens, hard, so that his dead ancestors can rise as zombies in the night and slap Zizhen back to Baling.

“How is he here?” He can hear Rulan yelling distinctly, as he grapples with Jingyi and rips the sticker cleanly from under his sleeve. 

Jingyi and him get along okay. When A-Yuan wants people to wait for him after guqin recitals, he has Zizhen and Jingyi wait for him, and they play jianzi as they quiz each other on class things they should know, bickering back and forth. They played soccer together a few times, and Jingyi’s good - Jingyi’s training to be in the under 20′s representative Asian Games in a few months. They get along fine. They love literature and art. Zizhen doesn’t want to set a short-circuiting robot onto him. 

Literally there is no reason for Jingyi to wrestle him to the ground like this outside of the context of a soccer match.

“You found us, how,” Jingyi demands, frowning. “Did you put a tracker on me?”

He huffs, bunching up his knees and kicking up, before rolling away with the bundle. “I will neither confirm or deny your accusations. Goodbye.”

Rulan is at the window, slamming it shut, and holding out a hand, snarling rabidly at him. The scuffle he was tackled into had knocked over metal plates and car parts all over the floor, everything looks like it’s a disaster zone, if he was at home then Father would have lost it. The shining mistress of the Jin family snarls at him, forcing him to step away from the window with the sight of his sharp canines alone, eyes narrowing at him and his bundle.

“Give that over,” he frowns. “And then you can scram.”

“I broke into your house to get it back,” he stresses, with hysterical stress. “No.”

“No can’t do, Ouyang,” Jingyi’s voice drifts to him, as his wrist is seized. “We need it.”

“And Qing-jie needs it, but none of y’all are telling me what you need it for -”

The door eases open with a loud creak, like a bow on an erhu string gone wrong, and both boys might as well have screamed in his face because the expressions on their faces are thunderous. 

“Uncle!” Jingyi squeaks. 

“Uncle!” Rulan also yips, stepping away from the window, and coming over to -

Oh my god he needs to scream.

Doctor Wei and Hanguang-Jun are at the door, brows raised in vague interest at the war zone spilling out all over their socked feet, Doctor Wei humming interestedly at their thunderstruck and mutually devastated faces. 

Jin Rulan is almost the same height as his uncle but he’s looking as if somebody ran over his finessed bow. He and Jingyi, who unhands Zizhen quickly, are both standing and arms splaying, kicking and shifting so that the mess of robot parts are somewhat not so obviously sprawling all over the floor.

“A-Zhen!” Doctor Wei beams, and proceeds to squeeze him in a hug until he dies, stuffing his face into a shirtfront with too much Versace sprayed all over it. “You didn’t say you were friends with the kids!”

“We don’t know each other,” he squeezes out, gasping as he’s released.

“Not a friend,” Rulan vehemently denies.

Lan Wangji lifts two unimpressed eyebrows. Rulan swallows back whatever else he was meant to say.

“Occasionally a friend?” Jingyi amends.

He turns and gripes at the Lan boy - “How can someone be occasionally a friend, you lump of spineless potato?”

“His insults are creative,” Doctor Wei notes, half way between an explanation and a praise. “Listen, kids -”

He then gets cut off by Jingyi and Rulan, talking not only over each other, but in synching fragmented sentences. 

Jingyi  “Uncles, we’re going to pack this up, we know you need the house for guests to come over -”

“ - and we will introduce you and acquaint everyone, but this guy needs to hand over his things first and then everyone can go,” Rulan finishes, hand still reaching out to Zizhen and his bundle.

He tries to step away, but two much taller men - Lan Wangji and Doctor Wei, are in his way, benevolently smiling and stoically staring down at him, and he feels his resolve crumbling. In fear, but also they are educators and they’ve perfectly polished the I’m not angry at you, I’m just disappointed and very very sad. 

“Sounds like a party in here,” he hears the dreaded singsong, the sound of the dead coming to collect his soul and putting him through all the levels of hell.

Song-Xiao Qing pokes her head around Lan Wangji’s elbow and beams at him. “Oh you’re here! I thought I had to call for you! You made my job so easy, marshmallow boy.”

“Uh,” he’s still being held captive by Doctor Wei. “Please. Explain.”

Lan Yuan finally emerges, serene, beautiful, refreshing and soft-spoken. 

“Many apologies for my family’s treatment of you, Zizhen-xiong. Would you like some tea?”

-

The gist of it is this -

It was a test. And his gut feelings were correct.

And the test was Would Ouyang Zizhen Make Good Agent. Apparently he passed, because nobody expected him to pursue the bundle all the way to the Jin Manor, along with wrestling with Jingyi so fiercely. 

“You -” he looks at Qing-jie, who is sipping chrysanthemum tea so calmly, as if she hadn’t led him on some wild goose chase. “I actually have no words. That was very clever.”

“I have words,” Jin Rulan, apparently part of whatever the hell this is too, whinges from his post at the arm of Lan Wangji’s chair. “Why him?” 

“What, besides the obvious?” Jingyi looks at his friend. “He held me off, and snuck into Gusu. Like, impressive?”

“The sticker was a nice touch,” Qing-jie notes. “Although we did make it easy on ya.”

“He’s calm,” A-Yuan smiles at him. “You’re very calm, even though you opposed to this vehemently.”

He gestures broadly, to Everyone Present. “I can’t exactly freak out before this peanut gallery. I want to live past 5 pm today. I have an aunt’s dinner I have to go to. I can’t die before that.”

A-Yuan shrugs like that’s a good answer. It is. He knows. He has a few fire-breathing aunts himself.

“So,” someone prompts. “About this -”

“The answer is still no,” he looks over specifically at Qing-jie, who he knows no doubt will be sending him on more of these trips.

“You did good though,” Jingyi notes. “Considering that you improv like, 9 out of 10 things.”

“Well excuse me for being new at this stuff, how am I supposed to -” he stops his snapping tone as a familiar face walks by, blinking widely as the entourage of idiots who may or may not are influencing a youth in joining the forces to lawbreaking. How is Hanguang-Jun in the middle of this, he just wants to talk. He swallows his caustic words, and cautions a wave to the boy. “Hey, A-Song.”

A-Song bows back to everyone. “Zizhen-xiong -”

“Calling me gege is fine, sheesh, this kid -”

“I’ll see you at tutoring, gege,” A-Song, Jin Rusong, literally the sweetest kid ever, smiles back politely, before he retreats back to where he has to go back to, leaving their Idiot Entourage to their own.

“You know my cousin?” Rulan quirks a judgemental eyebrow. 

“Yes,” he replies, tersely. “Can you not pay attention? He said tutoring. I tutor him. Shut up, I’m only mean to you because you’ve an awful personality.”

Nobody is sure who laughed but there is a ripple of a muffled laugh as Rulan screeches that I’ll have your head, Ouyang! 

“Our deal is off,” Qing-jie snaps her fingers before his face. “You can go now.”

“Just like that?” He squints, suspicious. “No forcing?”

“No forcing,” Doctor Wei smiles, the same Jiang-Wei smile that put the cardiac arrest in people’s hearts. People being undergraduates. “We’ll win you over one of these days,” Doctor Wei slaps a fist to a palm. “Our doors are always open for you to join, A-Zhen.”

Lan Wangji levels a stare at him. “Hmn.”

He’s not quite sure how Doctor Wei isn’t freaking out in the presence of his beloved Lan-er gege but he’s not going to ask or go there. He has a dinner to go to.

“Well,” he stands, and bows, because he still has manners. “I’ll be taking my leave?”

“I’ll see you off,” Doctor Wei also stands, turning to the four idiot monkeys first. “Here ya go, kids. Don’t be playing hot potato with that now.”

It’s then that he realises that his bundle is gone, yet again, and Doctor Wei had only hugged him once.

“Shall we go?” The Doctor’s eye glints, and he wants to bolt out the door.

-

“How are you a part of this too?” He hisses to the Good Doctor, the top medical examiner of the goddamn country and youngest biology professor in his college, as he is shown out. 

“I’ll tell you when you join,” is the cryptic answer he gets, as the doors close behind him. 

Tell me, his Kermit brain says. But then you’ll have to join, his rational robotics brain whispers back.

Zizhen elects to just scream at the door and turns on his heels marching out.

The nerve of some people! 

#mdzs #future fic #modern college AU #ouyang zizhen #lan jingyi #a-qing #jin ling #lan sizhui #jin rusong #lan wangji #wei wuxian #there is a universe where people fear lwj more than lan qiren #it is here #spy AU #this is so stupid please love it for me

[leejeongz]

Fighting with Stray Kids

😂ahh thanks for the request I acc really enjoyed writing this is that normal?😂

Bang Chan:

You left that morning in a rush. Chan hadn’t come home the night before, you presumed he was working, and usually you get up as he leaves. So today you were late for work, what a great start.

When you got home you slumped on the couch noticing a small handwritten note in Chan’s handwriting: “out with the boys again be back later maybe”. You couldn’t lie the not made you a little angry. Out with the boys? Again? You thought he was working. And maybe? He better come home, you thought composing a text to your boyfriend.

Y/n (5:45pm): I saw your note, see you soon! I love you ❤️

He read your message as soon as you sent it but didn’t reply.

The following day, no one was home again. That evening when you arrived home, Chris was spark out on your shared bed. At first you thought it was cute, then you remembered what he had done.

“How dare you come in and just go to sleep?” You raised your voice, waking him. “If you’d behaved like a normal adult you would have had enough sleep instead of going out with “the boys”” your eyes were narrow and your hands were going wild in the air.

He tried to defend his actions but the truth was soon revealed. “She I mean they told me I could sleep at their house”

“She?” You questioned, not giving him time to answer before grabbing your jacket and running straight for your friends house.

Woojin:

“My family are coming over later darling, I baked a cake for us all!” He announced as you came home from work covered in snow. “I’ve got to go out now they will probably get here before I get back, mind letting them in?” He asked innocently, knowing you’d let them in anyway.

Woojin had been gone for about an hour and you were getting tired. It sucked that you couldn’t nap with Woojin but the thought of being able to later made you sleepy itself. You went to bed and tucked yourself in, grabbing a body pillow and cuddling it as you closed your eyes and peacefully fell asleep.

You woke up to Woojin shaking you with an angry look on his face. “They were stood outside for an hour in the freezing cold waiting for you”

A bewildered look appeared across your face. You wiped the sleep from your eye and you reached out to touch his face.

“Don’t touch me please, I asked you to do one thing for me and you didn’t do it! I’m sorry my family doesn’t mean anything to you” He continued to shake you, somewhat aggressively but not hurting you. He abruptly stopped and stood to look over you, a disgusted look on his face. “Just so you know, if you ever ask me to do something for you, the answer will be no”

Lee Know:

“Can you cook dinner tonight? I’m going to be late, I’m seeing Sam” you asked before you left that morning in a rush, giving Minho his peck on the cheek as requested.

That evening you returned to Minho lazily sitting on the couch surrounded by junk food. The smell of a cooked dinner didn’t fill the room as you expected, instead just the smell of your sweaty boyfriend.

“Oh I take it I’m starving tonight then?” You asked sarcastically, putting your keys in the bowl next to the door. He looked over at you, sleep still in his eyes from the nap you just woke him up from.

“I thought you just meant for myself, I had take out. I’m pretty sure there’s some fries left in the bag” he said without a hint of panic. How could he be so selfish? Why would you ask if it was just for him? He wasn’t a child, he didn’t need reminding to eat, you thought.

You stormed into the kitchen, purposely being dramatic while he sat up a little more on the sofa.

“I said I was sorry I thought you were eating out with Sam” he said, emphasising Sam’s name as if he was annoyed at him.

Then it clicked. “First of all you never said sorry. Second of all you knew I wanted to eat at home since you know, I asked you. Third of all,” your tone became angrier at the thought “you only didn’t cook some because you’re jealous?” you grabbed your keys again and opened the door “of my friend?” And with that you left.

Changbin:

The only thing Changbin loved more than THAT hoodie was you. It took a lot for Changbin to let you wear it, especially out, but nevertheless he gave it to you. You wore it to go cycling early one morning to keep you warm, with his permission of course. You returned home with the hoodie which now had a huge rip in the sleeve from a sharp tree that you somehow got stuck on. You dreaded Changbin seeing it but you couldn’t avoid him anymore, he walked in, his eyes falling from your guilty face to the tear in the arm.

“You know that’s my favourite hoodie, why didn’t you take more care of it?” He asked, calmer than you expected. All you could do was tell him the truth, the whole story from start to finish.

“Do you know how much that jumper means to me?” He asked, slightly more angry.

You shook your head. It was only a jumper. It wasn’t even that expensive you don’t think. “I’ll buy you a new one, Bin, I’m so sorry!” You said trying to make amends.

“Don’t bother” he said walking away. “It will never have the same sentimental value, not that you’d care.”

You walked up behind him, trying to grab his hand realising it was probably a gift from a family member. “Leave me alone” he yanked his hand away and shut his bedroom door in your face.

(Ignore Chan if you can but we all know you can’t bc he’s beautiful)

Hyunjin:

He found his way every time to the spot next to her. Every time he could, he would. You sat across the table giving him daggers as he ordered his food. You and the boys and their s/os has gone out for the evening to a “fancy restaurant”. You dressed up glamorously as Hyunjin told you to and upon arrival you noticed most were wearing trainers and jeans. Your dark blue sparkly dress made you stand out like a sore thumb as you entered the “fancy restaurant” which you discovered was actually a diner and took your place opposite Hyunjin since the seat next to him was taken... by her...

“Aw it’s nice of you to dress up, y/n” she sneered before elbowing Hyunjin in the side and the two of them giggling.

You couldn’t hold it back anymore, all this anger from all the times before had built up inside you. “I know it is after all I am the fashionable one here” you announced knowing she worked in the fashion industry. “And I think you’ll look better with a smoothie poured all over you” you picked up the glass and tipped it over the both of them. Hyunjin stopped laughing immediately and wiped the strawberry milkshake out of his eyes. He shook his hand making it fly everywhere before announcing “I never want to see you again” and leaving, the other girl trailing behind.

Her boyfriend, another member, looked at you with sorry eyes. Really you didn’t do anything wrong and the members all agreed that they’d do the same. They told you that Hyunjin didn’t mean what he said but you were too angry to care. That night he tried to text you, he tried to call you a thousand times, but you didn’t pick up.

Jisung:

You blasted Drake full volume while your boyfriend got dressed upstairs. A surprise birthday party! His surprise birthday party! How could he not see it coming?!? His head was pounding and the music downstairs didn’t help, but he didn’t want you to feel bad.

“Hey thanks for this, baby” he gave you a little side hug and pulled away quickly when he returned downstairs in some sports shorts and a hoodie.

“You’re wel-“ you started, turning around to face him “what are you wearing? This is a party, not a lazy day” you said slightly tipsy even though the night had only just begun. The friends you were talking to before had left you two to talk, not wanting to see you get angry with each other.

Jisung tried hard to find out what he’d done wrong and also confessed about his headache, he was the innocent one in this situation. Yet you still got unreasonably mad. “I went to all this trouble and you don’t even care” you started to cry.

Jisung tried not to cry with you, knowing he’d done nothing wrong but still hurting because you were sad.

When he didn’t say anything in return you ran upstairs and cried yourself to sleep hoping that when you were sober you could sort this out while Jisung got rid of all the guests saying he had a headache and that he’d reorganise before leaving to get some air.

Felix:

Your last day at school before the summer holidays and you were going on vacation with your boyfriend for the first time... tonight! It was all you could think about while at school, leaving Felix to pack the rest of your stuff that you had left out for him back at home.

Chan picked you up the afternoon, Felix in the back of the car with your empty space next to him.

“Did you pack my stuff?” You asked promptly and he reassured you that he did.

A long 11 hour flight and you’d landed. Now in the hotel and ready for bed you found out your pyjamas and...

“Felix I thought you said you packed everything? Where’s my teddy?” You asked beginning to cry.

“Oh you wanted that packing? I thought you just left it there because it was cute” he lied, spying the teddy he packed in his own bag to prank you.

“You know I can’t sleep without it Felix!” You shout “or do you not pay attention to me? Or do you just not care?” You kept listing irrational ideas until you stormed out of the room, heading down to sit by the pool and looking up at the stars.

If only he’d just pulled it out of his bag at his “Oh you wanted it packing?” he thought as he slumped down on the bed.

Seungmin:

Were you spending a normal amount of time with Chris? Or not? He couldn’t quite work it out. He sat and watched you two from the living room while you cooked for the three of you that evening.

“Hey Seungmin, bud, you wanna come and help?” Chan shouted looking over his shoulder to see Seungmin sulking.

“No” he replied bluntly. Chan looked at you and raised his eyebrows. You replied to his gesture “he always gets like this when I’m with you” you rolled your eyes.

Seungmin stood up and folding his arms while positioning himself next to the fridge. “Maybe it’s because you’re always with him. Maybe it’s because you never spend time with me when he’s around. Maybe it’s because you love Chan.” He ran for his bedroom and you followed him. You walked in on him crying on his bed, a sight you’d never seen before.

“Please leave y/n I don’t want you to see me like this” he gestured to the door “you’ll only laugh about it with Chan anyway” he wished he was wrong but he knew he wasn’t when he heard you back in the kitchen, giggling like nothing had happened.

I.N:

“I’m too tired sorry y/n” the text read. You asked him to come to the movies with you but evidently that date wasn’t going to happen. Instead you decided to go and surprise him at the dorms but when you got there, he wasn’t home.

“He’s gone out with Hyunjin” Jisung told you as he opened the door. “You can wait here for him if you like? Please wait here for him we haven’t seen you in so long!” You stepped inside to the boys playing some video game and watched until the two boys got home.

“Y/n!” Jeongin shouted before his face changed “y/n? What are you doing here?” He asked taking you into his bedroom.

“Well I did come over in hopes that we could do something here since you were “tired” but” you shrugged. “So where did you go?” You asked him as if you were actually interested after he did that to you.

“We went to the cinema” he said guiltily. You grabbed your bag from his bed while standing up heading for the door.

“I’m sorry y/n” he pleaded but it was too late, you were already out of the door and almost out the dorm.

He text you straight away asking you to come back so you called him.

“Come back so I can be made a fool out of again? I don’t think so Jeongin you won’t be seeing me for a long long time” you said angrily, admittedly waiting for a response however.

Without thinking Jeongin replied “it was only the cinema it’s not that deep” with that you hung up.

(Tell me he isn’t the most handsome man alive)

Gifs aren’t mine

#stray kids #stray kids reaction #stray kids imagines #bang chan #woojin #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix #seungmin #i.n