#Or! Maybe they are just going to have a chill holiday break together and bake some treats with the extended family

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙

[eclaisse]

2024 Week 1

I thought that instead of blogging every day, it might make more sense to blog every week? I used to try and keep a bullet journal when I was younger. The aesthetic of bullet journals / hobonichi is lovely, but honestly it was a very difficult habit for me to keep up in college. I think it was always too much work for me in general. Even now, I like to write, but I am a lot more motivated to type things out. It looks clean and works well for me, so I think I will stick to electronic records!! One day, maybe a journal or scrapbook like that would be fun to make. But I do love that I can do this and feel accomplished for getting some writing done.

Anyways, it was a lovely week!! Everyone was slacking off after returning to work since no one was actually ready to work yet. The directors and other coworkers are on vacation still so it's pretty empty back at the office, though it's also pretty chill. I got to catch up with everyone after our long break and it was nice. I was invited to lunch by two of my friends, but unfortunately had a training with a higher up so I couldn't go. But that's okay, another time.

To be honest I think I'm still recovering from so many events over the holidays- I did a lot of baking, driving around, and talking to people. I think I'm a bit tired from all the social interaction. As a kid I was always excited for and reenergized during breaks but now that I have to do everything myself, I see how much planning and energy goes into it :'D It's fun but a lot of work!!

On Sunday I went to badminton practice with my friends and it was a lot of fun. At the start of the practice I'm always a bit sluggish and miss the birdies when my friends smash them, but within a few minutes I feel energetic and can play decently. We got to play for 1.5 hours since there was no one booked after us, lucky!! I used to play on my community college's team and I missed playing. We only started playing together late last year, but I hope it becomes a regular event.

After practice we went to a cute Taiwanese café that served sandwiches, noodles, and milk tea. We all got sandwiches and two friends also ordered a bowl of noodles to share. It was such a cozy atmosphere in there- we chatted over sandwiches and reminisced about our childhoods for a bit.

Two of the friends are a couple and invited us to continue hanging out by going shopping with them. We went to TJ Maxx, Home Goods, and Costco together. There's something really fun about going into shops with friends and pointing out cute merchandise, cracking jokes about each other, and laughing over silly things. I did my groceries alongside them and bought a lot of new snacks to try!!

Unfortunately I didn't realize that one of them contains gelatin, and I had already eaten some. It's a strawberry and condensed milk dessert that surprisingly doesn't taste too sweet? It's light, airy, and refreshing!! I don't want to return it even though Costco allows that, since they would just discard it and that would be very wasteful. Thankfully since many of my friends love strawberries, I will be passing these around as treats. I feel like every quarter I get a snack that I love, but there is just too much of. So I end up eating some myself and then giving the rest away. But these snacks are cheap if you buy them in bulk, and it makes my friends happy to receive snacks, so I don't mind.

Not my picture, but this is what the packaging and dessert looks like. It's very cute!! Looking forward to sharing it with friends.

[retvenkos]

sugar and icing | r.b.

HSMTMTS - Ricky Bowen x reader, fluff

tw: mentions of divorce

word count: 2.5k

A/N: @ my followers - thank you for reminding me that ricky bowen is a sweetheart who deserves the world.

prompt: we’re making cookies in the middle of the night while drinking hot chocolate, and wow your hair is messy but it looks so cute

Festive music drifted from the kitchen and dispersed throughout the house, almost covering the sounds of bumping cupboards and shuffling feet as (Y/n) rooted through the cupboards, looking for ingredients. (Y/n) had found their grandparents’ recipe for sugar cookies and, wanting to try their hand at baking, decided to ignore the mountain homework that mocked their holiday spirit, make a mug of hot chocolate, and get to work making cookies from scratch.

Wham!’s Last Christmas was finishing off it’s second to last chorus when there was a knock at the door. A text vibrated in the pocket of (Y/n)’s jeans immediately after, and they figured it was another relative or another, stopping by to drop off food and gifts.

“Be there in a minute!” (Y/n) called from their place in the pantry, still trying to grab the sugar that was trapped behind stacks of canned vegetables.

A muffled “okay” greeted them, and (Y/n) managed to slide the sugar out of its hiding place. When they finally opened the door, they were pleasantly shocked by who was waiting for them.

“Hey, Ricky.” Their tone was softer than they expected, revealing some of the tenderness beneath. If Ricky noticed, he made no mention of it, only smiled in greeting, shifting the backpack on his shoulder.  “What are you doing here?”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, the smile on his lips faltering just a bit. “You’re joking right?”

From inside, the oven beeped, announcing that it had been preheated. Ricky looked past (Y/n), peering into their home, expression turning into something akin to confusion. (Y/n) opened their mouth to make some response but faltered. Had they missed something?

(Y/n) slapped the pocket that had their phone in it. Suddenly, the text that they received seemed a bit important.

“I’m here for our English project.” Ricky supplied, the end of his statement sounding like a question. Realization dawned on (Y/n), a wave of relief that ended with a sour feeling in their stomach.

“Right,” (Y/n) let out a mix between a nervous chuckle and sigh. “I completely forgot about that, sorry.”

Ricky shrugged off their apology, seemingly more amused than anything else, and (Y/n) let him inside, already starting to complain about their English teacher. After all, who gives a lengthy project during a break?

(Y/n) led Ricky into the kitchen, where they had abandoned their school supplies on the dining table. They gestured to a seat where Ricky could set down his backpack and started rifling through their own, trying to find the folder where they had placed the instructions. (Y/n) continued to ramble, but when Ricky made no sound of response, they turned to him.

Ricky was paused by the kitchen counter, his eyes locked onto the mess that was strewn across the counter - ingredients, baking sheets, measuring cups and cookies cutters. (Y/n) rolled their eyes, walking to the oven to turn it off. “I was going to do some baking. I should have been preparing for this project, though.”

Ricky closed his mouth, making all the gestures to hum, but failing to make a sound. There was something sad in Ricky’s demeanor, a shift that made (Y/n) stand still, for a moment, letting their hand rest on the handle of the oven. The festive music was still playing  and the house was much more warm with the oven having been on, but for a moment (Y/n) felt frozen. Their thoughts came to rest on the boy in front of them, sobering their mood. 

He’d had a rough year, hadn’t he?

“You bake?” and his voice was distant, with a tinge of melancholy.

“Not much, no. I just found an old recipe and thought I’d try my hand,” they replied. Ricky blinked and nodded his head, bringing himself out of his stupor. He caught (Y/n)’s eye and they smiled gently. “Why do you ask?”

He averted his eyes. “My mom and I used to bake.... every year.” A ghost of a smile made its way onto his face. “Sugar cookies, too.”

(Y/n) hummed in acknowledgement, messing with the hem of their shirt. “The holidays must be rough.”

“Yeah,” Ricky sighed, “It’s just going to be me and my dad, this year - and he’s not much of a baker.” (Y/n) scoffed, and it was just enough to bring Ricky’s gaze back to them. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“Maybe, one day.”

He nodded, again. His curls bounced with the movement.

“Until then—” (Y/n) leaned back over the stove to restart the oven “—do you want to bake with me?”

Ricky’s eyes opened wide in shock, and for a moment, he was quiet. (Y/n) smiled at him and he eventually shrugged, pushing back the sleeves of his sweater. “Sure,” he breathed, “Why not?”

“You’re in charge of the most important parts, then.” (Y/n) walked over to turn up the music and Ricky washed his hands in the kitchen sink, still smiling softly to himself. “You’re making my family very happy, deciding to help out.”

“Oh yeah?” Ricky tossed the towel he used to dry his hands over his shoulder and (Y/n) passed him the butter. He put it in the mixing bowl and then took a glance at the recipe card, asking (Y/n) to measure out the sugar so he could cream the two together.

(Y/n) bumped shoulders with him when they poured it in. “I’m pretty sure they were worried I was going to light the house of fire. They went to visit relatives for the weekend, and they made a point of double checking the smoke alarm before they left.”

Ricky chuckled and (Yn) committed the sound to memory. “I can see why.”

(Y/n) gasped, just barely containing a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“The oven doesn’t need to be on until after the dough has chilled for three hours.”

(Y/n) could feel their cheeks get hot in embarrassment, and Ricky raised his eyebrows playfully.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” (Y/n) mumbled, turning off the oven once again.

“Oh, I know—” (Y/n) scoffed “—Pass me the egg?”

A new song blasted from the speakers and the two got to work, knocking elbows as they continued to go through the recipe. (Y/n) tried to sneak in an extra teaspoon of vanilla but Ricky had caught them red handed, and in retaliation threw a bit of flour their way. (Y/n) couldn’t be bested, and after the ensuing war, (Y/n)’s jeans were smeared with flour and Ricky’s cheeks and hair were powdered white.

When they popped the dough in the freezer to chill, (Y/n) made Ricky a hot chocolate, claiming that it would be the best he had ever tasted. Maybe they didn’t know how to bake, but (Y/n) made a mean mug of chocolaty goodness. When they passed him the mug, (Y/n) couldn’t stop themselves from smiling. It had been a while since they had seen him this carefree - with mussed hair, a dopey smile on his face, and his sweater rolled up to his elbows.

“You’re right.” Ricky inclined his head in mock reverence, laughter still burning in his eyes. “This is truly the best cup of hot chocolate I’ve ever had.”

“Told you. It’s all in the milk.” (Y/n) leaned against the counter with a contented sigh, allowing themself a moment of peace before diving into the English project that still lay on the dining table, woefully unfinished. They could complete a good deal of it in the three hours the dough needed to chill, and since Ricky’s dad was working all day and (Y/n)’s family wouldn’t be back until Monday, they had all the time in the world.

Ricky, ever observant, caught their gaze and appraised the weight of their sudden bout of pensivity. Deciding it wasn’t anything too severe, he took another sip of his hot chocolate, allowing Baby, It’s Cold Outside to take precedence. For a moment, the two just basked in the other’s presence.

“Thanks, for this.” Ricky eventually spoke, his hand tracing the rim of his mug. “The baking, I mean. It was fun and... it made me forget for a while.”

“Of course,” and there was no denying the sweetness in (Y/n)’s voice, the softness that was only meant for the two of them. Ricky must have noticed it this time, because his brown eyes sparkled with a particular type of fondness that made the room brighten.

(Y/n) looked down their mug, and the dark liquid that sat within. “And Ricky,” they took in a breath, “I know things are changing, but I’ll always have a place for you, if you ever need one.”

A silence followed their words, and (Y/n) didn’t dare move, wondering if they had somehow overstepped, or pushed him over the edge.

Then, Ricky’s had closed over theirs, warm and tight. (Y/n) looked up and Ricky had grateful tears in his eyes, pooling but not quite spilling. Even still, he was beautiful in a way that few managed.

“And,” (Y/n) all but whispered, “if these cookies are half as good as I hope they are, I’ll be calling you at all odd hours of the day to have you make them for me. You won’t be able to get rid of me, even if you tried.”

Ricky laughed lamely, pulling his hand away to wipe at his wet eyelashes.

“I don’t think I want to get rid of you.”

(Y/n) didn’t dare breathe for the few seconds that his words still bounced in their mind. “That’s good.” (Y/n) smiled and crossed the room, grabbing the things needed for their project, not not missing the way Ricky’s eyes followed them, but trying to force the butterflies in their stomach to focus on anything else.

“So,” (Y/n) slid Ricky’s bag over to him and sat their own supplies down on the freshly wiped counter. “Wuthering Heights, huh? Ready to slave over it for the next three hours?”

Ricky made a noncommittal shrug, but he slaved anyway; between mugs of hot chocolate, dollops of royal icing, and the occasional wayward glance at the other, the two worked on their English project semi-effectively. By the time they were done, the sky had darkened outside, stars just peeking out of the inky black sky. Despite their hot drinks, the cold was creeping in and when it was time to preheat the oven, both were grateful.

After three hours, (Y/n) didn’t want to write about any Catherine’s ever again, their brain completely fried by the moor metaphors and the cousin relationships. Ricky didn’t seem to be faring any better, still reeling from the idea that Heathcliff was both a romantic hero and the antihero of the story.

Suffice to say, when they had finished for the night, both (Y/n) and Ricky were immensely grateful. Rolling out the dough and cutting out star shaped cookies was a welcome distraction from their homework, and when the smell of baked sugar cookies filled the air, (Y/n) agreed with the singer on the radio that it was, indeed, the most wonderful time of the year.

Decorating the cookies had been harder than it looked, (Y/n) quickly learning that piping bags were surprisingly difficult to work with. Despite getting more icing on their hands than the cookie, Ricky has said they did a great job - much better than he did, the first time he baked sugar cookies. Both of them had rummaged through the cabinets and when they found red sprinkles, (Y/n) had covered their cookies in them, hiding the imperfections.

(Y/n) was licking the icing off of their fingers when it was finally Ricky’s time to impress with his decorating prowess.

“Are you ready to be amazed?” Ricky held a piping bag with canary yellow icing, a grin on his face and a laugh on the tip of his tongue.

“So ready.”

Grabbing a sugar cookie with a more complicated edge, Ricky iced it experty, with a perfect border. In his concentration, his tongue stuck out just a little bit, making (Y/n) laugh, a sound that was infectious. Ricky tried to scold them for making him laugh, claiming it was endangering the process, but at the end of his craftsmanship, the cookie was perfectly iced, by all accounts.

“For you,” Ricky gave them the cookie with an exaggerated flourish and (Y/n) hated the way they giggled - like a lovestruck teenager who couldn’t handle their crush on their best friend.

“Well, I’d offer you one of mine, but…” (Y/n) gestured to their failed attempts at icing, their lines wobbly and the center not evenly smoothed. Ricky chuckled at their embarrassment, and picked up the worst looking cookie there was.

“I think this one’s perfect.”

(Y/n) scoffed.

“I mean it!” Ricky sounded genuine enough, but (Y/n) looked at him, deeply unimpressed. “I’ll prove it”—and he pulled his phone out of his back pocket—“by taking a photo for Instagram. I hope you know I only post the best content.”

(Y/n) washed their hands in the sink, calling over their shoulder. “Including that blurry video of you and Big Red hiding from Miss Jen?”

“That was tech week and Miss Jen was so close to killing us.” Ricky was laughing through his story, the strength of it shaking his whole body and turning his photos blurry. (Y/n) dried their hands and picked up the cookie Ricky made for them gingerly. They smiled at him a bit before nibbling at the edge of the cookie, wanting to savor it for a reason that wasn’t apparent to their conscious mind, but felt right. “We hid in the costume department and she never managed to find us.”

“I’m glad she didn’t.”

Ricky turned to (Y/n) and held their gaze for a moment, laughter dying on his lips, but his happiness omnipresent. He blinked and set down the cookie.

“See?” Ricky took a step closer to (Y/n) and angled his phone at them. On the screen was a picture of the cookie he chose, still awkward looking - even with a filter - and in the background was (Y/n), smiling at Ricky like he hung the moon and stars. “Perfect.”

It took a moment for (Y/n) to register that he wasn’t looking at the picture, anymore.

(Y/n) turned to look at Ricky, staring into his dark brown eyes as though searching for something, and found him returning their gaze. They were inches apart, close enough that it wouldn’t take much to close the gap…

“You’re perfect.” The words slipped out of their mouth before (Y/n) could stop themself. Maybe they had found what they were looking for.

Ricky’s eyes flicked down to (Y/n)’s lips, but he was quick to level them again. (Y/n) noticed some flour on his cheek and had the urge to touch his cheek and wipe it off. Ricky wet his lips before speaking. “I’m not misreading this, am I?”

“No,” (Y/n) gave their head the slightest shake and kissed Ricky, allowing their free hand to do what it desired. His cheek was hot beneath their touch and he tasted sweet - like sugar and icing.

-- taglist: @theletterhart​, @brokenandheadoverheels​, @neelia-thedaughtherof-athena​ // message me if you want to be added!

[ikaris-whore]

Faith and Cookies

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader // SINGLEDAD!Bucky X Nanny!Reader

Prompt: So for this one I am combining a prompt sent in to @the-ss-horniest-book-club by @bugsbucky​ “Bucky is a window and reader is his daughter’s nanny, and to make it a happy time for her the three of them spend the afternoon baking cookies.” and the HFTH Prompt of the day: Cookies. 

A/N: Don’t mind me I am a whore for baking prompts and dad!characters... 🤗 writing the kids is probably the best part tbh. Coincidentally I am going to be making these cookies myself with my own paddle licker. 

It had been a whirlwind of a year. You had graduated college with no clue as to what to do next but you moved to the city with your savings and a dream in your heart. Like most who try to make it in the city with few connections, your savings started to run out and you needed to look for a job, ANY job that would keep you there. Returning home was not a choice for you. Throughout your studies you nannied on the side for a bit of extra income so you applied to an agency. Your glowing reviews and degree put you at the top of their list. Soon you had a job for a single father and his six year old daughter. It came with room and board as he was often gone for days at a time on business trips. You took it without a single hesitation. 

You were close with the little girl, Faith, now. The two of you bonded immediately and she would recount stories about her mom that Bucky would tell her when she asked about her. Faith was only four when her mother passed so her memories of her were limited to those stories -- always filled with love. One that came up recently had been about how her mom loved to bake, cookies, cakes, bread. You name it she made it. The holidays had been her favorite time to do so and just before she had passed he stood in the kitchen watching Faith’s little tongue lick the batter from the mixers paddle while her mother scooped dough balls onto a cookie sheet. 

You stood by the stove making dinner and watching Faith make a bracelet as she told the story, sounding just like her father when he had told them. 

“Do you think we could make cookies this year?” Faith asked curiously. “Last year we didn’t really do anything to celebrate the holidays.”

“I think we can manage that, Faithy. What kind of cookies should we --?” 

“Chocolate chip!” she blurted out before you could finish causing you to laugh.

“You gotta go big for the holidays!” You started to scroll your phone to show her a picture of some cookies you had perfected. “How about we make peppermint and chocolate?” A flip of your phone revealed the fluffy cookies to her. 

“Oh yes. Yes please!” she begged. 

“Let me bring it up to your dad later. Maybe he can join us?” You wondered out loud.

“Dad in the kitchen?” Faith giggled, but then agreed it would make it more fun with him around. 

---------

A few days later you and Bucky stood in his pantry collecting ingredients as Faith read them off. He leaned in to whisper something to you while she was sounding out a word. 

“Thank you for this. I know it’ll make her feel close to her mom, and I have to admit I didn’t do well last christmas with keeping traditions alive.” 

You smiled softly “It is really no problem, I too love to bake and Christmas is a time to be together. Even in spirit.” 

Faith had given up on her struggle on figuring out the word and tugged on your apron for help. You helped her sound it out and grabbed it from the shelf. Bucky appreciated the way you helped his daughter learn everyday while still making it fun for her, he imagined his late wife would have been the same way. 

You each took turns adding the ingredients to the mixer, Faith insistent on breaking the eggs herself and pouring the flour in. You reminded her to do it slowly as her hand carefully brought it to the edge of the bowl, but soon there was a puff of powder flying into your face hovering just over the mixer. 

“OOPS!” Faith yelled out in an angelic voice. You turn to see Bucky holding back a laugh, and you couldn’t help but let your own out. 

“What is baking without a mess?” you managed to get out as you grabbed a handful of flour from the counter and blew it in Bucky’s direction. He sputtered for a moment trying to get the flour out of his mouth as it was wide open in a laugh with his eyes closed. When he realized where it came from a full on flour fight erupted in the kitchen, Faith included. 

Eventually the three of you stopped the throwing of flour long enough to finish the cookies, Faith taking the role of licking the paddle clean as you stood shoulder to shoulder with Bucky teaching him how to make the perfect cookie dough ball before you put them in the oven to bake. 

A group clean up was in order while the cookies puffed up in the oven, then as they cooled on the rack you warmed some milk on the stove top to make hot cocoa so you could all sit down and watch claymation christmas videos while enjoying the products of your work. After the movie, Bucky picked up a sleeping Faith and carried her to bed, tucking her in nice and tight so the chill in the air wouldn’t get to her. As he watched over his daughter he saw his late wife in her face, and thought about how proud she would be of her, and realized how thankful he was for you-- for bringing joy back into both of their lives this year.

[combat-wombatus]

Hot Cocoa

Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader

Warnings: brief cursing (mostly just bakugou being bakugou), some suggestive humor (m*neta is involved too)

Genre: fluff (a lil bit of crack bc why not)

WC: a bit over 8k? went slightly overboard with this idea and not entirely happy with the ending but i already rewrote it like 5 times so it is what it is-

(A/N): heya! so this is my first fic and i was kinda nervous about posting it...

it started out as an idea on @todorkihoe’s discord server but then it evolved into this monstrous nightmare so...it took me like a whole week to hash everything out and the logistics of the secret santa thing was an absolute nightmare. but it was worth it!!

It was the holiday season. Most people were taking time off of work to hang out with their friends and family. You had wanted nothing more than to relax in your hot tub with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice and scrumptious holiday cookies, but being a pro-hero meant sacrifices.

You were signed on as a sidekick in the UA Hero Agency’s Tokyo branch. The UA Hero Agency was exactly that: a hero agency formed by the most illustrious graduating class at UA. Not everyone from their class eventually went into the agency, but they were a large agency, with around 36 pro-heroes working full-time. This meant that they had several branches. You, a recent graduate from UA, knew these heroes who were a year above you at UA. They were special. When you started at UA, there were already whispers about “the Class of Legends”. Every single person who graduated the year after had been through enormous trauma during their years at UA. You thought that they were true heroes: strong, unbending even in the face of overwhelming adversity. They were only in their first year when they had been attacked by villains: twice. One of them had even been kidnapped. You couldn’t even begin to fathom how hard they must have worked to get to where they were today. They were resilient, and it showed. The UA Hero Agency is now one of the top Hero Agencies in not only Japan, but also the world. In fact, with their combined power, you wouldn’t be surprised if they happened to make an international branch. You knew that some of the heroes at your agency, Can’t Stop Sparkling and Pony, wanted to start something overseas but didn’t yet have the manpower to make it happen. You were sure that within a few years, their ranks bolstered by new graduates, they would take UA to the international stage.

So it was Christmas Eve. Even though you wanted the chance to chill out at home with some relaxing instrumental jazz and freshly baked sweets, you were out patrolling Tokyo’s vibrant shopping sector instead, on the lookout for villains who wished to ruin everyone else’s holiday fun. The mall was abuzz with shoppers, some hanging out in the verandas with cup of hot cocoa in their hands, others hurrying through, their arms loaded with shopping bags, searching for last-minute gifts they had previously forgotten to purchase. It was definitely not the worst patrol ever. The cozy atmosphere almost had you sighing in contentment, before you heard a voice shout, “thief!”

Of course a villain had to ruin the fun. They had a tendency to do that. You weren’t very comfortable using your quirk in such a loud, crowded area, but you bet that you could catch a small-time shoplifter without it anyways. You raced through the crowd, tracing the voice that had called out moments earlier. You saw a tuft of orange hair weaving unnaturally through the crowd of shoppers, and sprinted forwards, your eyes locked on the target. You followed the path they had created unknowingly for you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. It would only slow you down and light a fire under the criminal, which was exactly what you didn’t need.

Within moments, you caught up to them. Sneaking up behind them, you snatched their wrist and smacked your quirk-suppressing cuffs on it.

“Fuck!” He swore. How did he get caught so quickly? He could have sworn that there was no one chasing him. Pesky heroes. Relying on the comparative lack of heroes patrolling during the holidays, as well as the customary holiday shopping rush, was a sound strategy. He had done the same in previous years without getting caught. If only that damned, nosy civilian hadn’t shouted…

“Please do not resist arrest. It will be easier for all parties involved. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. There are eyewitnesses to your crime. Please drop your bags and hold out your other wrist.” You said calmly. You had a beautiful voice. It was calming and had a lilt to it that was a byproduct of your quirk. The villain did as you said, knowing that there would be no escape.

You sighed. Pressing a button on the comms situated in your ear, you reported the situation back to your office. You then called the nearest detective station and waited until their patrol car got here so you could hand the man over. Glancing at your watch, you realized your patrol was almost over. You did one last sweep of the premises, then headed back to the agency.

Today, the agency was the emptiest you had ever seen it. It was a large building, with 20 above-ground floors. In fact, it was essentially a mini-city. There was a heated indoor pool, a sauna, an elite gym that would make fitness junkies drool, a massage and spa, three verandas, and a rooftop greenhouse. It had a café reminiscent of the UA cafeteria, and all types of cuisines were available. In fact, Lunch Rush’s niece was working in the café, and the food was always heavenly. Sometimes, heroes from other agencies would drop off at the UA Hero Agency just for a bite of food after a long patrol. It was the unofficial headquarters of all the hero agencies in Japan, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.

Thinking about the café, you were suddenly hungry for some pad thai. Arriving at the door, you dropped off your comms and cloak at the door to your office and headed down to the café for some food.

“(Y/N)!!! You’re back!” Your friend squealed.

“Yeah Mina, just got off of patrol. Arrested this shoplifter trying to take advantage of the holiday chaos.” Spying her coat in her hands, you realized she was on her way out.

“Cool! You’re always so efficient with your arrests. Anyhow, I’m going to head home. My parents and I are getting some dinner together. I’ll be back for the party, yeah? Don’t open any presents without me!” Mina waved, a grin on her face. You assured her that you would make sure everyone waited for her to celebrate. You wanted to see your parents too, but they were currently on an international tour. They were famous singers, pioneers of a new genre of music. It was a sort of lullaby, but it wasn’t meant to put people to sleep. It was more of an enchanting, calming kind of music present only in fantasy books before your mother brought it to life. She was wildly popular, and your father was only too happy to support her. Speaking of which, your phone rang in your pocket. You took it out and accepted the video call.

“(Y/N)! It’s so nice to see you baby! How’s it going? I know you had patrols today but I forgot about the time difference and your father had to stop me before I called you and distracted you during patrols! He’s always so paranoid you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie. Stay safe, okay?” Your mother was always cheerful.

“Yeah mom, I know. I’m doing pretty well, actually. I arrested a shoplifter today,” you replied, recounting the same story you just told Mina. “Everything’s pretty calm here. How’s your tour going? I missed you,” you asked her.

“That’s good to hear sweetie!” You mom smiled. “The tour is amazing. I’ve never had such an international turnout before! Maybe I need to start considering singing in other languages! Everyone’s always so supportive.” You smiled at her, happy that she was enjoying herself.

“You deserve it Mom. I’m glad that your music is appealing to an international audience. You always work so hard. It’s nice to see that people appreciate all that you’ve done.”

“Thanks sweetie. Here, I’ll let your dad talk to you for a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling on her end as she handed the phone over to your father.

“Hey sweetheart,” your father’s voice boomed through the phone. You held your phone away from your ear, wincing a bit. Quickly dialing the volume down, you responded.

“Hey Papa. Mom said the tour was going well.”

“Yeah, it is. How’s the holidays going for you?” You heard the slight sadness in his voice. You knew that he wanted Mom to take a break in the middle of the tour and spend Christmas with you, but Mom was adamant about it. It was a holiday tour, after all, and tickets had already been booked. Some people were going to see her concerts as a way of celebrating, and she wouldn’t let them down.

“I’m doing good. It’s pretty peaceful here. No big missions or anything,” you say, in an attempt to comfort him.

“Ok, that’s good to hear sweetheart. We miss you.”

“I miss you too, Papa. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here when you guys get back. Have fun in Paris!” You replied, suddenly feeling sad. “Bye Papa! Bye Mom! I’ll see you guys soon!” You blew a kiss to the camera and hung up. Sighing a little, you trotted towards Emiko, the revered chef.

“Can I have a pad thai please?” You asked, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“One pad thai, coming right up!” Emiko beamed. “So, I hear there’s a party tonight. Should I make anything special?”

You thought about it for a bit, then shook your head. “No, you don’t have to. It’s mostly just for the presents. We already have the booze covered. I think Momo is ordering some special hors d’œuvres already and Sato is taking care of the cookies. Are you coming?”

Emiko shook her head. “I’m spending the night with my family and my boyfriend. I think I might make you guys some tiramisu though. I have all the ingredients and I don’t want them to spoil since I’ll be gone for a few days. Desserts are my specialty anyways,” she added. Then, with a knowing smirk, she prodded your arm. “Do you have anyone on your mind? You know, Mina and Ochaco hung some mistletoe up before they left…”

You blushed. Of course they did. Your friends knew all about your one-sided crush. You also knew that he would still be working here. He was always working. You were pretty sure that he had the mind of a robot, focused only on his work and his legacy. With those hand motions he made, you weren’t surprised if he actually was one. You shook your head to get rid of these thoughts. Emiko didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think she knew. You really regretted telling Mina about your little crush. With her tendency to run her mouth, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire agency knew already. With the exception of your actual crush, of course. He was simply too socially dense to see the signs and too uninterested to pry.

Taking your pad thai, you scurried away from a smug Emiko and plopped yourself down at a table. You dug into your noodles and sighed in contentment. Maybe working during the holidays wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like you had friends who weren’t as busy as you were anyways.

You finished the last of your noodles, then got up and took your tray to the recycling area. Heading up to your office, you paused by Ingenium’s office. His door was cracked open, and you peeked inside. You had to muffle your giggles at the sight.

He was wrapping presents with such a focused look on his face that you found absolutely adorable. His brows were furrowed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had a spool of ribbons laying on the floor next to him, as well as elegant white-and-gold wrapping paper and a roll of tape. What really amused you was the pile of paper, ribbons, and tape that was bunched together and tossed aside, obviously a result of trial and error. Iida looked frustrated. He had already put his presents in boxes so that they were almost uniform in size and easier to wrap, but he was clearly struggling. You estimated that he had forty boxes littering the floor, but he only had five wrapped. You watched as he ripped off the wrapping on the newest box he had started on, muttering about how hard it was to get straight edges with the wrapping paper. Knocking lightly on his door, you stuck your head around the doorway.

“Need some help?” You asked.

Iida looked up from unspooling more wrapping paper. His face brightened at your offer.

“Yes please, (Y/L/N)-san! I would greatly appreciate your aid. I seem to be having trouble folding the paper and trying to tape it together without it sliding from its position. If you could hold the paper in place while I tape, that would be wonderful!” He looked so excited, almost like a puppy.

You smiled at his eagerness. “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”

You sat down across from him and held the wrapping paper in place while he tore off a piece of tape. The two of you worked in tandem for around an hour, until you finished wrapping all the presents. You sat back, face flushed, and surveyed your work. All forty presents, wrapped with elegant paper and tied up prettily with a gold organza ribbon, were laid out neatly on the floor. It was a satisfying sight. Rolling out your back and cracking your knuckles, you got up from the floor.

“Those were a lot of presents, Iida-san,” you yawned, stretching your arms back like a cat. “Do you want to go down and get some hot cocoa? Emiko already left, but I can make us some.”

Iida got up too. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and he had a dazed look about him. “That would be greatly appreciated, (Y/L/N)-san. Thank you very much for helping me wrap my presents. It was irresponsible of me to leave them until the last minute.”

“Of course, Iida-san,” you replied. “We were all so busy before the holidays I’m surprised you wanted to wrap everything as fancy as you did. I know that I just stuck my presents in bags, covered them with tissue paper, and called it a day! You didn’t even buy those sticky bows, you tied them with real ribbons. That’s dedication!”

Iida blushed furiously at your compliments. It’s the perfect time to confess to her, he thought. We’re alone, and there’s no one here to see if she rejects me. He took in a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but before he could, you grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway for some much-desired peppermint hot cocoa.

Humming lightly to yourself as you lead Iida down the halls, you entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing his hand, you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they were shaking slightly. Wow, you thought. I really did that. I really just snatched his hand like that. Ugh, he probably hated it every second of the way, he’s just too polite to say anything. God, my palms are so sweaty. Why did I do this to myself?

Unbeknownst to you, Iida was having a mental freak-out of his own. Ahh! She grabbed my hand! And she didn’t seem to hate it! Does this mean she really doesn’t mind my company? Maybe I actually do have a chance with her! No, stop, he told himself. She was probably just tired of how I was staring at her and decided to do something about it. Ugh, I was staring at her, wasn’t I? God, I’m such a creep. Iida wiped his palms on his slacks, then reached up and adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the obvious blush on his face.

“Ding!”

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the two of you stepped out into the lobby. The decorations had been up for two weeks already, but it still took your breath away every time you saw it. There were garlands of lights strung high all over the ceiling, and dainty little ornaments hung from the chandeliers. There was a huge Christmas tree next to the fireplace, the floor around it coated in snowy fuzz. You had to resist the temptation to jump in on multiple occasions. You couldn’t help yourself! It just looked so fuzzy and comfortable, like clouds of cotton candy…

The Christmas tree was decorated tastefully. There was a surprising lack of hero-themed ornaments, mostly due to Momo’s elegant decorating. You had all been in agreement when you refused to let Kaminari or Mineta even touch the tree.

Making your way to the kitchen, you relaxed a little when you breathed in the apple-scented candles. It was a surprising choice for a holiday scent. Usually, pine or cinnamon were much more popular scents. You had gotten the privilege to choose the candles though, and although you almost fainted sniffing at every single scent in the candle store, you decided on apple. It was nice and refreshing, with just a subtle touch towards the holiday season. You liked the change of pace from the usual holiday scents, and it seemed it was growing on everyone else too. You stopped at the cabinets that contained the hot cocoa bombs. Emiko had seen these as an online trend with the food community, and she had made dozens of them “as an experiment”. Everyone fell in love with them (because heroes are allowed to be childish!) and they stuck. Now, the agency had an entire cabinet in the kitchen dedicated to the delightful goodies.

“Oat or regular?” You asked Iida.

Iida had, unfortunately, spaced out again. He was thinking about how cute you looked, standing on your tiptoes to reach the cabinet.

“Hello? Earth to Iida-san,” you turned around and waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay there?”

Iida blinked and had to recompose himself again. He kept getting distracted. This was not good. Not good at all.

“Regular is fine,” he replied, his face flushing once again. He really needed to stop daydreaming.

You poured out some milk into a jug and heated it. Then, you placed a hot cocoa bomb in each mug, licking some sprinkles off your fingers as you did so. Once the milk was ready, you filled each mug to the brim, careful not to spill any. It smelled absolutely delectable. Taking a spoon from the cabinets, you stirred both cups slowly, letting the chocolate melt at an even pace.

Iida was watching all of this, and he was still having an internal debate over when to confess. Would it be better to wait until you both finished the hot cocoa? Should he even confess to you on Christmas? What if his confession ruined your holidays? He began to sweat a little, his anxiety rising with each thought. Before he could come up with an excuse to escape, you stuffed a mug into his large hands.

“All done!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your own cocoa, careful not to burn yourself.

Iida was not so lucky. Distracted by his thoughts, he raised the mug to his lips and gulped.

“Shit!” Iida swore. You blinked at him, a little shocked since he never swore, then immediately put your mug down and raced to the refrigerator to collect some ice cubes. Iida promptly put his offensive mug of cocoa on the counter, glaring at it like it just murdered his dog. Dumping some ice cubes in a glass, you hurried back towards Iida and popped one in his mouth.

“You really should be more careful next time, Iida-san,” you chided. “I just made it! You shouldn’t take such large swigs of a piping hot drink!”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” Iida replied absentmindedly.

“Distracted? By what?” Your curiosity was now piqued.

Iida’s face turned ever redder than before. He averted his eyes and mumbled out some quiet words that you couldn’t quite catch.

“Sorry, what was that?” You gazed up at him. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”

Iida’s hands were stuck to his thighs to prevent himself from freaking you out with aggressive hand gestures, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. He cleared his throat. “I said that I got distracted by you.”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Really?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you heard that right, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid that he’d hear it.

Iida finally looked at you. “Really,” he confirmed.

You wrung your hands and stepped towards him. Raising your eyes to meet his, your voice a half-whisper, you gulped before your next words.

“I like you.”

Blinking twice, Iida unclasped his hands and pinched his forearm. He winced in pain, then blinked again. You laughed at his antics, then clapped a hand playfully on his bicep.

“I’m real, Iida-san. I’m right here!”

Slowly, a grin crept up Iida’s face. “Really?” He mumbled, obviously still not entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

You chuckled at how you had just asked the same thing moments earlier, but then you grabbed his large hand with your smaller one and squeezed.

“Really.” You smiled bashfully.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, then Iida spoke up.

“I like you too, (Y/L/N)-san.” Feeling bold now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he drew his other arm across your shoulders and drew you into a tight hug. You sighed, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. A part of you wanted to stay like this forever and never wanted him to let go.

“Would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon at 3?” Iida’s voice rumbled in your ear.

You were bursting with excitement. A date! A real, formal, date! “I’d love to, but why so specific?” You giggled.

“Ahh, well, my patrol ends at 2:30, so I thought-”

Of course Iida volunteered for patrols the weekend after Christmas. Did this man ever take a break?

“No problem at all, Iida-san. That sounds lovely.”

Iida released you from the hug and rubbed lightly at the back of his neck. “You can… you can call me Tenya, if you’d like.”

You were smiling so big that you feared your face would split. “I’d love that, Tenya.” His eyes crinkled when you called him by his first name. “And you can call me (Y/N).”

Iida nodded his head. “(Y/N). I like that,” he said to himself. He muttered your name a few times, getting used to the way it rolled off his tongue. You blushed and hugged him again, pressing your nose into his chest. He was just too adorable.

You wanted to stay like that, but your phone dinging incessantly in your pocket made it uncomfortable.

Mina

(Y/N)!!! my parents ordered this WHOLE-ASS TURKEY for dinner with JUST THE 3 OF US!!! how we gon finish it all?!?

Mina

*burps* we did it. we finished all of it. the whole turkey. (Y/N). we. finished. a. whole. fucking. turkey. pls send help i can’t walk (Y/NNNNNNNN)!!!

(Y/N)

want me to call u an uber … mina mina MINA MINA DID U PASS OUT im calling an uber mina istg

Quickly sending an Uber to the restaurant Mina was at, you put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Tenya.

“Hey. Do you wanna get your presents and put them under the tree?” You asked.

Tenya quickly straightened up. “Thank you for reminding me, (Y/N). I had almost forgotten about them!”

“No problem!” You chirped. “Let’s go!” You took his hand in yours again and lead the way to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the two of you waltzed in, hands still clasped together.

Humming a little tune to yourself, you stepped out of the elevator. You and Tenya entered his office, and each returned with an armful of presents, carefully stacked as to avoid damaging the delicate ribbons the two of you had spent so much time tying.

It was a tradition in the agency to get everyone something small. However, you participated in gift exchanges every year. This year, it was a Secret Santa-type exchange, but the UA Hero Agency did Secret Santa’s a bit differently. Instead of giving your partner the gift on Christmas Eve, the gifts were labeled with typed name tags in generic Times New Roman font. Then, there was the guessing portion. Everyone got 3 guesses at the party when they first open it, and after that, they get one guess per week. Whoever held out the longest (avoided being guessed) would win a batch of Sato’s homemade cookies, a week of free food from Emiko, and two patrol coupons (basically the adult version of homework passes). This year, you had drawn Bakugo as your partner. You’d decided to get him a ¥4,000 gift card to his favorite ramen restaurant, as well as a high-quality leather jacket. The gifts were pretty generic, and you thought that you had a chance at the prize. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered that last year, Momo had been so frustrated when she hadn’t figured out who had given her a pretty earring and necklace set after two months that she’d used Creation to make fingerprint dust and swiped it all over the box. It had turned out to be Todoroki. Needless to say, he’d won the prize that year.

The two of you made a few more trips, carrying gifts from his office to the tree. Checking the time, you saw that it had been an hour since Ochaco’s patrol ended. Right as you were about to call her, the front door to the lobby burst open.

“(Y/N)!!!” Your friend screeched, holding up a kitten with fur the color of cinnamon. “Look what I found on my patrol! I had to take her to the vet really quickly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she didn’t seem to have an owner. Just look at her!”

You beamed. The kitten was absolutely ADORABLE. And not only was Ochaco safe, she brought a kitten back with her!

“Can I hold her?” You asked.

“Duh!” Ochaco passed the kitten from her arms to yours. Behind her, you saw Bakugou walking sullenly, arms drawn tight across his chest. You stifled a giggle at the sight. He obviously wanted a turn with the kitten too, but his pride wouldn’t let him as for it.

“We were coming back from patrols and I saw this little one stuck in a tree! And when I floated up to take her down, she just looked so sad. There wasn’t a collar on her or anything, so we took her to the vet. It seems like she was abandoned,” Ochaco pouted. “And so we asked the vet to vaccinate her and everything, and we brought her back here! Can we keep her? Mr. Grumpy over there already said yes.”

Tenya looked like he was about to object, seeing as this building had a no-pets policy, but then he saw how your face lit up and the idea and changed his mind. Maybe having a pet on the premises wouldn’t be too bad, he conceded. It’s not like there were other people sharing the building with them anyways.

“Of course we can keep her!” You squealed. Bakugou huffed a sigh. He’d have to deal with all these idiots fawning over the kitten for weeks, and he wasn’t happy about that, but there was no denying that the thing was cute. He’d mellowed out since his high school days and seeing a therapist for anger management classes certainly helped.

The kitten felt warm and fuzzy in your arms, and when you stroked it down its back with the palm of your hand, it let out a satisfied purr.

“What should we name her?” Ochaco asked.

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, since you found her, and her fur is brownish, why not Coco?”

“Coco! I love it!” She beamed. Coco purred again. “It looks like she likes it too!”

You smiled and looked down on the kitty. “Coco,” You murmured. “Welcome to the family.”

Just then, Mina burst through the doors, brimming with energy and not looking at all as if she’d fainted from turkey overconsumption.

“Mina!” You ran towards her. “I thought you fainted or something!” You accused, poking her in the chest. “You didn’t even leave me on read!! You just LEFT!”

“Chill, chill, girly, I’m alive and kicking! Just had to take a quick nap because of my digestive woes,” She flashed you a big thumbs-up. “And what’s this I see? Do we have an agency pet now? Did Shinso sneak it in his pocket from the cat cafe?”

“Shinso what?”

“Cat cafe?”

“I KNEW there was something fishy about his jacket the other day!”

You, Tenya, and Ochaco said at the same time.

Mina stared at all of you, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

Turning around, you looked at Ochaco. “I wanna hear about this later, you hear?”

“Alright, alright!” Mina shouted. “Change into your holiday gear! Let’s get this rolling!”

You had made a sweater especially for tonight. Knitting was a great way to relax, and huddling up in a cozy armchair with the soft yarn, some hot cocoa, and your favorite book, you had finished your holiday-themed sweater in two weeks. Now, you would finally get the chance to wear it. The sweater you made was white, a soft gold-and-silver threading woven through in the pattern of snowflakes. It was a basic winter pattern, but you were proud of your work.

Setting Coco down on the couch, you headed into the locker rooms to change into your sweater and some flannel pajama bottoms. Walking out, you noticed Tenya was still in his business attire, which looked pretty uncomfortable by your standards, although it did fit him nicely.

“Tenya,” you called out. “Are you wearing that to the party?”

He turned around at your voice, looking slightly taken aback. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” you replied. Good thing that your present to him was a nice, cozy, hand-knit sweater. You may or may not have thought about making him a matching one, but then you’d decided that it was too forward.

“You look…” Tenya stared at you. “You look…cute,” he said, with a small blush on his face.

Blushing at his compliment, you smiled and ducked your head. “Thanks.”

“Your sweater…it looks nice,” he added.  

Playing with the hems of your sleeves, you smiled up at him bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself. I really like knitting. It’s kind of therapeutic.”

“Oh, wow. You are truly very talented, (Y/N)!” Tenya praised.

“Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you had lost the ability to say anything else. Why did you suck so much at making small talk?

Just then, Mina stepped out from the locker room and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Hey, has Yaomomo come down yet?” Mina asked.

“No, she hasn’t. Do you want me to go get her?” You answered.

“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just text her real quick.” Mina pulled out her phone, fingers dancing rapidly across the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Minutes later, Momo stepped out of the elevator, already dressed in a red sweater and white jeans. She always looked so put-together. You were sure that she had a second quirk.

“Yaomomo!” Mina screeched, running up to her friend. “You’ll never guess what I ate for dinner!”

You groaned as Mina recounted her dining disaster. You loved Mina, but her tendency to tell her experiences to everyone multiple times could sometimes get a little annoying. Trying your best to tune her out, you tapped Tenya’s shoulder and moved to settle on the couch with Coco.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Mina shouted. “Come here!”

Begrudgingly, you stood up again, having just sat down moments earlier. “What is it, Mina?”

“We forgot to introduce Coco! Yaomomo hasn’t seen her yet!”

Oh right. You did forget. You lifted Coco with both hands, then scurried over to where Ochaco, Mina, and Momo huddled. Momo let out a quiet “aww” when she saw the kitty and lifted her manicured hands in a silent invitation to hold her.

You gently placed Coco in her outstretched arms and was about to turn and leave when Mina grabbed your elbow. “Not so fast, (Y/N),” she scolded you sternly. “Picture time!”

Mina took out her phone and swiped open the camera app. You girls all huddled together as she snapped a picture for the fans.

Settling back down with Coco on the couch, surrounded by your friends, you didn’t think that you had ever felt happier. One by one, more of your friends and coworkers began to trickle in, until finally, when a disgruntled Jirou arrived with a protesting Kaminari in tow, Mina stood up.

“Alright! Everyone’s here now, so let’s get this party rolling!”

She bounced off to the kitchen to grab plates for everyone. You could smell Sato’s freshly-baked cookies from here, and your stomach growled in response. Remembering the tiramisu that Emiko had made, you followed Mina into the kitchen.

Mina held a stack of plates that covered half her face. It was wobbling slightly, the entire thing almost toppling over multiple times. You had gotten out the fancier cake platter and was currently in hyper-focus mode, carefully moving the tiramisu from its cake mold onto the crystal platter. You breathed out a sigh of relief as the process was finally completed and the cake hadn’t been ruined.

Holding the crystal tray with both hands, you stepped out into the lobby, marched over to the coffee table in the center, and slowly set the tray down.

“Hey guys, Emiko made us some tiramisu,” You called out. “Come here if you want some.” You held a cake knife in your hand and began serving everyone.

Tenya watched all of this with barely-hidden admiration. You were just so competent. So hard-working, so kind, and so wonderfully skilled at everything you do. Even the things that you weren’t good at, you tried your hardest to learn and to improve. He was definitely in deep, and to be honest, he didn’t mind a single bit. You were worthy of being admired, and he vowed that he would let you know in all the ways he could.

As you served the last slice of tiramisu to Ojiro, you carried the cake platter back to the kitchen and sat down next to Shinsou, who was, not surprisingly, hogging all of Coco’s attention. Seeing you, Coco scrambled over Shinsou’s lap and faceplanted into yours. You laughed at her enthusiasm and snorted when you heard Shinsou mutter “traitor” underneath his breath.

“So Shinsou,” you started casually. “What’s this I hear about you stealing cats from the cat café?”

Shinsou’s face immediately turned a tomato red. He put his hands up defensively. “No, wait, you have it all wrong- I swear- who told you about it anyways? Never mind,” he stopped his waving motions. You snickered. You were definitely getting the full story out of him later. For now, you had things to do.

Strolling over casually to Tenya with Coco still in your arms, you very sneakily dropped her, front paws landing gracefully, onto Bakugou’s head.

“Hey! What’s this damn cat doing here!” Bakugou yelped. Coco also yelped, and it came to you that dropping her on Bakugou’s spikey hair was probably not the best idea ever. However, as Coco quickly scampered down and curled up on Bakugou’s shoulder, and Kirishima was sitting next to him to make sure he didn’t kill the cat, you felt a sense of triumph. Bakugo was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning maniacally as he beat someone up, but genuinely smiling. You gave yourself an internal high five as you moved onto your next goal.

You walked hesitantly towards Tenya, and when he turned his head towards you, about to ask what you were doing, you quickly linked your hand with his and started leading him towards the rest of the group.

“(Y-Y/N) ?” Tenya sputtered. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” You replied cheekily. “I want to hold hands with you!”

“B-but, do they know?” Tenya gestured nervously with his free hand.

“Nope, but they’re about to,” you grimaced, thinking about all the teasing you’d have to endure from your friends later. Better to just get this over with during the party, when everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and any embarrassing moments would hopefully be forgotten moments later when more exciting things came along, such as Mineta’s annual lingerie gift. Whatever the powers that be were doing, they were definitely not doing the world any favors when they let Mineta draw a girl for the Secret Santa every single year. But, for all the bad things you could say about Mineta, he definitely consumes enough material to have at least semi-decent taste in lingerie. Surprising, and sometimes gross, but not entirely unwelcomed if you could manage to forget who gifted it. The most disturbing thing was he knew all the girls’ sizes. You tried your hardest to not think about that. It’s not like you could erase his memory anyways.

You settled down with Tenya on a vacant couch, inwardly counting the minutes until someone noticed your position. Tenya looked vaguely uncomfortable, his posture ramrod straight, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“No one’s going to judge or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered into his ear. “And besides, at least half the girls already knew I had a crush on you, so this won’t entirely come as news to them.”

Tenya relaxed slightly at that, then stiffened again when he noticed a pair of eyes glancing his way.

Midoriya had been excited at seeing Ochaco for the first part of the evening, but then had wondered where his other friend had gone. He knew Tsu was in southern Japan, as she couldn’t stand the cold and was operating in the warm coastal areas instead, but Iida being absent was strange. He had searched around the lobby, and when his eyes descended upon you and Iida cuddling on the couch, he was intrigued, to say the least.

He stared at the two of you for a solid minute, not wanting to disturb your peace. Slowly, he turned back to Ochaco, thinking that it wasn’t his place to draw attention to the two of you.

Ochaco, however, had no such qualms. Noticing how Deku began to space out during their conversation, she followed his line of vision to the two of you, blinked twice to check if she was seeing it right, then immediately let out a squeal.

Heads turned at the sound, and in moments, everyone was staring at you and Tenya curiously. You hadn’t noticed the attention yet, but Tenya had, and he grew stiffer and stiffer until you finally looked up at his face with furrowed brows.

“Tenya, what’s wrong?” You whispered. “Do you not enjoy cuddling? I can stop if you’d like,” your lips were pressed together in concern.

“I-it’s not that,” Tenya whispered back. “Look.”

You finally raised your head from his chest and saw thirty pairs of eyes staring back. After a few moments of silence, the room erupted.

“Iida-kun! Why didn’t you tell us?” Midoriya was the first to raise a question.

“(Y/NNNNNN)!!!!!!!!!!!” Mina practically screamed as she ran towards you. She clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. “YOU DID IT YOU DID IT YOU DID IT OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO ADORABLE EEEEE!!!!!!”

Half the room winced at her loud tone, and you quickly moved Coco from your lap to save her from the incoming bear hug.

Mina launched herself in your arms, then stepped back and shook your shoulders until you felt your brain rattling around in your skull like soupy mush.

“(Y/N)! What did I say, huh? Bitch I TOLD you that he liked you too, and you wait three goddamn months to finally make a move!?! Honey-”

Your face flushed red. Gently, you pushed her away. “Mina, stop,” you whispered, horrified that she was making a scene. It was too late. Ochaco and Hagakure rushed towards you, Momo trailing more slowly behind them. The boys were stunned for a bit, since you had always seemed so quiet and shy, much less Iida’s feelings towards you. As their initial shock wore off, Midoriya trailed after Momo to approach Iida.

“Congratulations, Iida-kun!” He held up his arms in front of his chest. “You and (Y/N) are really cute together!”

“Yeah bro! That’s so manly that you finally confessed!” Kirishima added, with a quirk of his lips and a thumbs-up.

“Tch. Fucking coward. Took you idiots three fucking months to confess, huh.” Bakugou smirked, but you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed. You actually somewhat got along with him, due to all the times Mina would drag you to hang out with her friends.

You struggled vainly against the arms of your friends encasing you. “Guys,” you pleaded. “Let me out, please.”

Reluctantly, the girls let go, and you immediately tried to redirect their attention. “Shouldn’t we start opening presents?” You asked hopefully.

“Oh, you sneaky little thing,” Mina wagged her finger in your face. “Don’t think we’ll forget about this, (Y/N), but you’re right, we should start opening presents or we’ll be here all night.”

“We’ll be here all night anyways,” Todoroki pointed out.

“You knew what I meant,” Mina sighed.

Mina enlisted the help of Ojiro and Shoji to pass out the Secret Santa presents; you’d all open the rest of your personal presents later.

The best way to go about this, after years of trial and error, was for everyone to open their presents at the same time. It would simply take too long for everyone to open theirs one by one, and you’d all realized that the people who opened theirs first had a significant disadvantage when it came to guessing who their partner was, as the ones who opened theirs later had the benefit of some options already being eliminated. When you opened your present, you tried your hardest to hold back a squeal. It was a limited-edition album from your favorite artist! You hugged it close to your chest, and immediately knew who gave it to you. Jirou. Her parents were musicians too, and you had bonded over your love of this artist. It was a thoughtful gift, and you were glad that she had given it to you, even though it immediately gave her away.

The rest of your friends opened their presents. Poor Momo. No wonder Mineta had looked so gleeful earlier. He had been her Secret Santa and had gotten her a lacy black lingerie set. Her face was so red you were beginning to get scared that she would hyperventilate, but you had to admit that it was a pretty nice set. Mineta was basically drooling at this point, and Jirou was trying to comfort her while sending a death glare towards Mineta. Mineta, meanwhile, had received a new video game. Sero had received a large pack of farmer’s market coupons, as well as some homemade mochi from Ochaco, who had blushed and apologized profusely for not being able to afford something better for him. Sero just grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, saying that it was completely okay and that he appreciated her effort into gift-giving. She had brightened up a bit at that.

Koda had received a new hamster wheel along with some toys for his various pets. Shoji had been gifted a comfortable-looking poncho, as well as three pairs of matching gloves. Ochaco had received a generous sum of money, Midoriya had gotten a new set of comic books, and Iida had received a beanie and a multiflavored pack of tea. Aoyama had received a makeup set, and had gifted a makeup set as well, evidenced by his inability to contain himself and pounced on Hagakure, asking if she liked it. Hagakure was ecstatic, babbling about how she could finally show her face and how she’d never really been able to afford a full set before and how Aoyama was so considerate.

Sato had received a new baking pan, as well as cute mittens and a trending recipe book. He had given Setsuna a batch of cookies, as well as a gallon of frozen cookie dough with instructions on how to make it. There wasn’t really a point in him trying to win the contest, since he would be one of the people providing the prize. Mina had gotten fuzzy socks and a blanket, Kirishima had received a new pair of tennis shoes, and Jirou had been gifted a new pair of headphones. Ojiro had received some sort of custom tail armor with spikes along with an Amazon gift card, and Todoroki had gotten a hand-made red-and-white sweater with a red reindeer nose smack in the middle, along with a gift card to a hair salon, tucked into a bouquet of red-and-white candy canes. The only person you could think of that would go so far into the color scheme was Hagakure, who seemed like just the type to make an ugly sweater for fun. Shinsou had received earmuffs, a silk eye mask with a note (“to help you sleep”), and some gourmet coffee beans (“in case you still can’t”). Mina had seen the little notes that came with his gifts and started teasing him relentlessly about how sweet his Secret Santa was and how it was so cute that he had a secret admirer. Shinsou looked very nonchalant about it all and grumbled about how he just wanted to pet Coco and then go to bed.

Finally, Kaminari received some Pokémon cards to add to his collection (yes, he collected Pokémon cards, what was wrong with that?) along with another Pikachu plush, as per usual. It was an unspoken tradition that whoever drew Kaminari for their Secret Santa would get him a Pikachu plush along with whatever else they decided to give him. He had about twenty, collected over various years from birthdays and holidays. If this kept up, he’d be able to fill an entire closet with them once he retired.

As the chatter slowly died down, you snuggled into Tenya again. At some point during the present exchange, Shinsou had stolen Coco from the couch you occupied. Stifling a yawn, you pulled out a bag and handed it to Tenya.

“What’s this?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.

“It’s your gift, silly,” you booped him on the nose with your index finger.

“Ah, I see,” he replied, still smiling. “Do you want me to open it?”

“Duh,” you giggled into his chest. “What else would you do with it?”

Chuckling lightly, Tenya removed the tissue paper from the top of the bag. He stuck his hand inside, then pulled out a sweater. The sweater that you’d knitted for him. It was navy, the color of the yarn matching his hair, with gold and white snowflake detailing. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that you had made this especially for him, with your own hands. Putting the sweater down beside him, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your hair.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I love it.”

You flushed, but you hugged him back. “You’d better,” you teased. “I spent two weeks on that.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” Tenya ruffled your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. Yawning, you stretched out your arms, careful not to hit Tenya in the face. You gently pushed his arm off of your torso and got up to go to the bathroom.

When you came back, Tenya was nowhere to be seen. You searched around the common area and stepped briefly into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Sighing, you grabbed your parka and padded outside.

“Tenya?” You called out as you stuck your head around the doorframe. He was with Kirishima and Todoroki, clearing the entryway of the building of snow. You leaned back along the handrails of the stairs and watched. Your friends were all just so nice. So caring, so wonderful, so kind. As Todoroki evaporated the last bit of snow, you stepped aside to let them all head back in. As Tenya reached you, he paused briefly, looking up.

“What?” You tilted your head up also, curious to see what he was staring at. Oh. So this was where Mina and Ochaco had decided to hang the mistletoe. If Tenya hadn’t looked up, you would’ve missed its existence entirely. You looked back down at Tenya to gauge his reaction.

He gulped, and softly taking your chin into his hand, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You leaned up to meet him, rising slightly on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was long and sweet, and you were both a bit breathless when you let go.

You smiled sweetly up at him and took his strong hand in yours. Standing on your tiptoes again, you pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.

“Merry Christmas.”

Masterlist

[howdoyousleep3]

Since I’m stuck at home this weekend (and can’t see the person that could maybe be my Valentine, it’s a whole thing 🤷‍♀️😬) because snowed all day today and tomorrow the wind chill is gonna be -35, I was wondering if any of your Daddies and their Boys were going to do something for Valentines Day? 💕

Ahhhhh Heather I’m so sorry your Maybe Valentines Day plans fell through. It’s supposed to be so fucking cold here over the next few days. Awful, I hate it, I can’t wait for Spring! I bet the boys and their Daddies definitely do something, hmmm let’s see...

Daddy Steve and Baby Bucky: These boys go all out. They love this day. And holy shit Valentines Day that falls on a weekend?? Lord have mercy, the quality time had. Steve can’t decide on the kinds of flowers to have delivered to Bucky on Friday while he’s at work, he just has all four delivered. Bucky FaceTimes him from the kitchen with watery eyes and squeaks because words are so hard, and all Steve can do is laugh and coo into the phone.

Bucky bakes some of Steve’s favorite oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, puts them in a pretty red tin, wraps a bow around it. Steve is so tickled about them he picks Bucky up off the floor with the force of his hug, sets him right on the counter and has them immediately share one between the two of them.

Steve cooks dinner for Bucky on Saturday, something Italian, has an appetizer of finger foods that he slowly feeds Bucky as he cooks, keeps his wine glass full of his favorite red wine. Poor Buck gets so wound up so quickly Steve almost feels bad for telling Bucky he needs to wait, purring into his ear that he needs to be a good boy and let Daddy cook for him, provide for him.

It’s awful hard to say no to Buck when he gives his Daddy those eyes, asks so sweetly in a soft little voice if he can at least suck Daddy off, but Steve sticks to his guns.

They barely make it through the dinner, Bucky slowly finding his way from the seat next to Steve to his Daddy’s lap, small bites of food and sips of wine becoming less and less frequent between kisses. Steve makes them eat their portions though, makes them enjoy and savor the food he worked so hard to cook for the two of them. By the time Steve slips Bucky his last bite of food, gives him a sip of wine to wash it down, Bucky is vibrating where he sits.

“Go get ready for Daddy while he cleans up a bit…”

Bucky has been ready, has been sitting through the evening with a pretty silver plug with a pink heart at the base nestled between his cheeks, has been squeezing around it wishing it was his Daddy all throughout dinner. He’s more than ready to get fucked through their mattress, doesn’t want to wait, strips himself of his clothes and presents face-down on the bed, wiggles as he waits for Steve.

“Oh, sugar…”

Daddy’s tone, arousal and surprise, pools at the base of Bucky’s neck like warm honey.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy…”

Daddy James and Stevie Baby: Did you all know that James is one of the most romantic people Steve has ever met? Oh, because he most definitely is. James goes all out spoiling his boy on Valentines Day. Steve wakes up to gentle kisses on his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips, wakes up to a bedside table full of white roses. Steve touches them and marvels at how soft they are, thinking of the unmentioned parallels between said softness and his Daddy.

“Got a few surprises for you today. You wake up when you wanna and give me a call. How does that sound?”

It sounds marvelous. Steve takes his time waking up, falls back asleep after giving his Daddy a few indecently wet kisses as he leaves for work. He runs his fingers across his roses again, calls his Daddy from bed.

“I made an open appointment for you at that spa you like. Get what you’d like, the works. Grab some coffee on the way, yeah?”

Steve…floats to his appointment. He floats on this pillowy soft cloud of being blessedly spoiled and loved, on having a Daddy like James, a perfect Daddy. All throughout his massage, his facial, his waxing, he thinks about his Daddy and what it’s like being loved in such a way, how improved his life has been made with James in his life. He thinks about how grateful he is to have found someone who loves him in exactly the way he wants to be loved, who not only puts up with, but embraces how difficult Steve can be sometimes.

By the time he’s standing in the lobby, three hours later, he almost feels like he’s experienced something cathartic.

“Yeah? You sound relaxed. That’s nice, baby. They treat you good?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Oh, listen to that. Ain’t that sweet. You ready for your next surprise?”

It’s shopping. Daddy gives him suggestions on a few shops, tells him he’s picked out a few things at each place that he might enjoy, but that he’s free to go anywhere he’d like. Steve almost wonders if he’ll need an escort, leaving this place and feeling free of all stress and cotton-candy-like, sent off to go buy things for himself. He goes to all of the places Daddy has things set aside for him, tries on all the articles of clothing: shirts, jeans, suits, jockstraps, panties.

He buys almost everything he tries on, adds in a few items for James himself, feels genuine arousal when all of the people who assist him tell him that his partner had already taken care of the bill. By the time he has four bags in each hand and is wandering into the elevator to Daddy’s office, he’s feeling sweet in the head and all over.

“Hey, doll,” Daddy purrs upon seeing him, his face lighting up in the same way that Steve is sure his own is brightening up as well. All Steve can whisper out is a coo of a, “Daddy…”, placing his bags on the couch, meeting James halfway and tipping his chin as Daddy reaches for it. Kissing Daddy makes the pleasure he is already feeling ratchet up, makes the sensation of arousal heavy in each of his limbs.

“Baby…sweetheart, what’sa matter?”

He can’t answer. How is he supposed to answer? His feelings are too large and he’s too far gone to step back and produce words. He responds with whines, with pitiful noises he presses into Daddy’s neck, his jaw, his lips. He’s more than grateful when thick arms hold him up, hold him close.

“Steve, are you okay? Good noises?” The worry in James’ voice tell him he needs to respond, needs to communicate with Daddy.

“So good. So good, Daddy.”

“Oh, pup. Sweet boy, c’mere…”

It isn’t how he expects to spend Valentine’s Day but it’s everything the two of them need. Steve wants to be close to his Daddy, wants to touch him and never let go. He spends the rest of Daddy’s workday at Daddy’s feet, cheek pressed against his thigh, hand in Steve’s hair. From time to time he gets pulled up into Daddy’s lap, gets showered in kisses and praise that prolong his time in that sweet sugary place. Daddy calls him a sweet boy, tells Steve he’s a sweet puppy, that Daddy loves him, that Daddy is so lucky.

Daddy almost has to carry him out of the office, zips up Steve’s jacket, hands him a few bags, gives him a kiss on his forehead.

“Why don’t we go home and you can show me all the pretty things you bought with Daddy’s money today, yeah? Maybe we can do something with that hard pretty prick’a yours…”

3DWD and Bucky Bunny: The Daddy loves his holidays and damn him if he’s not going to take full advantage of one dedicated to his bunny love.

Bucky loves chocolate. Steve gets him two boxes of chocolates, one milk and one dark, and also gets him a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. They’re sitting on the counter alongside flowers and balloons when Bucky traipses downstairs when he wakes up. Bucky’s giggles add ten years to Steve’s life, swear to god. But Steve’s reaction upon opening up Bucky’s present to him is even better, how excited he gets when he opens up the entire Fast and Furious DVD boxed set.

It’s the little things, isn’t it?

These two have more of a relaxed Valentine’s Day together. No doubt Steve wants to watch the Fast and Furious movies, all in order, “…obviously skipping Tokyo Drift. What even was that, Bun?”. Popcorn and chocolates and Bucky eating his strawberries, they spend the day making out and snuggling as they make their way through each of the movies.

They only stop to take a break so Daddy can start on dinner, which most definitely consists of steak, something from Steve’s butcher shop, something that is only the best. He takes his time with it, Bucky catching Steve talking to the meat in the kitchen, trying to verbally sweeten it up. He makes a feast for Bucky, complete with potatoes and brussel sprouts and asparagus and wine and that yummy little butter pat right over the steak.

Their bellies are full and their hearts are happy and their bodies are warm and they can’t help but get a little frisky at the dining room table, giggles and open-mouthed kisses and sighs.

“You tryin’ to give your Daddy dessert before dessert, bun?”

“Mmm, you got dessert planned, big man?”

Steve does indeed. He bundles Bucky up in a big blanket, one of Daddy’s hoodies, shuffles him outside to the fire pit. He gets a fire going easily, holds up a bag of marshmallows with child-like excitement that Bucky matches with a giggle and an applause.

“S’mores!”

They’re sticky and gooey and they eat half of their fill from each other’s hands and from messy kisses. Daddy thinks he can out-sweet Buck but there’s no way in hell he can compete with his bunny’s sweet tooth and he calls it at three.

“I love you,” Bucky whispers against his Daddy’s cheek where they lay snuggled under a blanket in front of the fire, underneath the stars. Steve rumbles, purrs, wraps his arms a tad tighter around Bucky as he breathes, “Love you too, Buck. Love you so much.”

With full bellies and happy hearts, it’s easy for these two to make it an early night. But don’t be fooled—they wake up early the next morning still feeling very much in love and ready to physically prove that.

Senator Rogers and Intern Bucky: The filth, lord the filth. Bucky is so worried in the days leading up to Valentines Day because he’s so uncertain as to what is acceptable and what isn’t for this day and for them. But then he gets a box delivered to his home Thursday while he’s on campus, comes home to find it on his bed. He opens it up, gasps when he sees what’s inside, picks up his phone.

“What is this? Did you…?”

“Well, that’s no way to talk to your Daddy when he’s just bought you a nice pair’a panties for Valentine’s Day, now is it?”

They’re silky and high-waisted and a breathtaking dark green shade that Bucky just knows will make him look delectable. He holds them in his hands, fabric slipping between his fingers, and gets so hard so fast he whimpers. These are no doubt ladies panties and Bucky is no doubt hot for it.

“Put ‘em on. Show Daddy what you look like in ‘em.”

And this is how Bucky spends Valentine’s Day weekend, riling up his Daddy with increasingly filthy pictures of him in the pair of panties Steve bought for him, ignoring a few calls to make his Daddy angry, giggling when he gets threatening texts in response. He riles his Daddy up so much so that Steve sends a car for Bucky to pick him up and take him to the Senator’s house on Sunday afternoon.

“Wear them, fuckin’ have them on under your jeans. Gonna stuff’em in your mouth as I have my way with you, gonna pull ‘em up and over your ass when’m done with it. You don’t even know, Buck…”

💕🥰 Eeee thank you for this Heather! I loved thinking about all of the Daddies. I hope you enjoy and I hope you’re having a sweet day, bb. 💕🥰

[jonah-aesthetic]

Gingerbread I Zach Herron

Zach X Reader

Plot: Y/N’s successful boyfriend invites her to his to bake Christmas Cookies.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Note: The last bit is a little rushed, this isn’t edited but I hope you enjoy. Merry Christmas my Lovelies! 

Rating: 16+ (do you guys like the spicy scenes or no)

Moodboard

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

Inserting the brass key into the lock with a click, you pushed open your door with your shoulder. Entering your apartment on the three floor, you flicked on the lights and tossed you keys on the counter not caring where they landed. 

The entire day was stressful, the corner store was out of your favourite creamer. Next you forgot you phone at home and had to run back. You were late to work cause your hair wasn’t participating. Not to mention that Asshole that cut you off earlier. You were annoyed and ready to throw on something comfy to watch Netflix for the rest of the day.

A yellow post-it note caught your eye, Remembering it not being on the fridge this morning. Plucking it off you read the words written upon it. 

 Hey Darling, 

@ 10pm meet me at my place, we’re baking cookies. Don’t call me saying no cause I blocked you. Also there’s a gift in the fridge for you 

xx - Z 

Smiling you shook head, only Zach would make the effort of blocking you on everything so you had no other choice then to show up. You had the worst habit of denying his invitation when you weren't in the mood for it. But you’d end up regretting it five episodes in of your favourite tv show. Zach always managed to make your day better, ever since the day you meet him. 

December 10th, 2019

The aroma of the coffee shop was filled with the intoxicating smell of coffee beans and Christmas music. Third  in line all you could think about how the guy you were talking to you ghosted you. He was the first guy who found interest in you since the breakup with you ex- boyfriend. The bastard used that to his advantage just to get laid. Knowing you were fairly vulnerable and desperate to feel any connection again. What- 

“What can I get you?” The leathery voice asked, 

Without realising you moved up on the line, slightly embarrassed you wondered how many times he had to ask you. “Just a large coffee, three sugar, three cream.” You spoke with a small smile, what could you say. you had a sweet tooth and hated the bitter taste of black coffee. 

“$3.78.” His bored tone was heard, 

Nodding you reached into your purse for your wallet. searching you found two quarters, one dime, two nickles and no sign of your back card. Of course not you left it on the coffee table after buying a book online. Your dumb ass never put it back home. 

“Fuck.” You say more to yourself, but you knew it was heard my others close by. Looking up you smiled apologetically at the barista. “Funny story- 

“Here, I got it.” a smooth memorising voice cut you off,  you watched as some guy reached over your shoulder to pay. Not just any guy with that perfect bone structure a fucking god, okay maybe that was too drastic, but you didn’t think it was. 

“No, You don’t have to.” You spoke trying to push him away, but it was too late his card reached the machine chiming happily. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s my pleasure honestly.”  His smile sucked the breath out of your lungs. His brown eyes were watching you, wondering what emotions were going through your pretty little head. Taking his hand out of the pocket of his slacks, reaching it towards you. “Zach” 

“Y/N” You smiled back at him, connecting your right hand in his. They were warm to the touch and significantly larger then your delicate one. The thing that intrigued  you most about him was his un-denying classic style he held. Wearing a beautiful button down, which had four different black and white patterns. Two buttons undone, just enough for his defined chest to peek through. Tucked into a pair of black striped slack as he wore black oxford shoes, pulling the entire look together. He was formal, yet he wasn’t and you found it fucking attractive. 

After Zach requested his order and paid you both caught onto a conversation. Waiting for your drinks, he was funny and from what he was telling you talented too. Collecting your beverages he offered to take a seat with you, and you definitely weren't denying that offer. Talking with Zach you forgot all about Chase, or was it Chance? Who cared he wasn’t important anymore. 

You had no idea how long you talked before the barista who served you earlier kicked you out. You switched numbers and he asked if he could walk you home. It was dark and you didn’t necessarily want to walk alone down town.

Sticking the note to the counter you hopped in the shower washing away the filth of the day, changed into leggings and a hoodie that once belonged to him. Locking up the apartment you got into your car and began driving to Zach’s house. Feeling giddy you forgot about the candy bar settling inside the fridge. 

Arriving you walked through the front, glass doors sliding open like they always had for you. Reaching into the lobby you caught the eye of Julian who had been sitting behind the hostess’ desk. Green eyes staring he smiled, “Well if it ain’t little Mrs. Herron.” Greeting you with the nickname he gave you eight months ago. Nonetheless it still made your cheeks heat up at the thought of marrying the boy one day. 

“Hello to you too Julian.” You reply, heading straight to the white elevator. Pressing the silver key card against the scanning pad. It was a gift given on the same night you planned on offering your apartment key to him. You both laughed at how connected your mindset really was. 

Dinging the elevator opening speaking mechanically to you. “Good evening Y/N, and Happy Holidays.” Walking in you whispered a small thank you like you’ve always had. You still weren’t use to how luxurious the apartment-plex was, Only feels like yesterday was the first time you agreed to come over. 

Letting the elevator engulf you with hushed Christmas music. There were no buttons embedded on the side. All the information it needed was packed into the chip within the card. All that was plastered on the wall was a screen, counting down the seconds it took to reach his pent house.

Zach’s success as an artist never bothered you, never made you feel less then him. He’s never once made you feel that way with him, especially when you two fought in the dead of the night. He’s even asked for you to move in, but you liked you place. Liked your own space.The luxury of his life could be a little much for you at times. 

Dinging the elevator door exposed Zach’s apartment, lights were dimmed showing off the string of Christmas bulbs scattered about. Home Alone displaying on the t.v above the crackling fire place. Candles lit emitting of the scents of pine and peppermint mingling perfectly together. Christmas decor still intact from when you placed it with Zach’s help last week.  Staring at the atmosphere your boyfriend created you wondered where he was. 

“Zach?” Your voice travelled through the pent house like a maze. With no response you decided to look for him yourself. Entering his room you spotted pyjamas atop his silky black duvet, Another note rest a top. 

Just put these on for me 

xx -Z

Plucking the note you unfolded them, a white crop top and a pair of red pyjama bottoms. With all nine of Santa's reindeer’s names written in white all over them. You couldn’t help but smile like an idiot, he had a chill night planned for the both of you. Since he knew you weren’t one for big crowds, you were blessed to know he understood that. 

Stripping in the middle of his room you changed into the Christmas pjs. Tossing your clothes into the corner of the room you ventured off to find him. Wasn’t too long before you spotted him in the kitchen, in matching Pyjamas dancing to the Christmas music. That right there was the love of your life and you wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“Hey hot stuff!” you holler over the music, he stopped instantly at you voice, looking up he breaks into a stunning smile. “ I didn’t here the elevator.” His brown eyes a little apologetic, “You also didn’t here me call for you. Too busy lost into the Christmas feel.” you tease him. 

“Here, I made you this.” Grabbing a red mug off the counter he stalks towards you. Towering over you small height, he places the hot coco in your hands. The hot beverage topped with whipped cream, cinnamon, and a candy cane melting into the side of it.  You didn’t think your words could manage the gratitude you felt from him. Placing you unoccupied hand around his neck bringing him to your lips. You kissed him, a soft and slow one. He tasted like hot coco and candy canes. 

“I could never get use to the way you kiss me in appreciation.” He says after you let go of his neck. 

“I Don’t feel like my words are enough, not like the way you sing them.” 

“Your words are everything to me, but I’d definitely prefer the kissing.” Zach winks, flirting with you like you two were still best friends. Walking backwards to the island he did a once over of your body, and a second time. His brown eyes travelled from head to toe drinking every inch of you in. You laughed and rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head a little. He always flirted with you, he never saw the reason to stop. Zach found you breathtakingly beautiful and wouldn’t let you forget it. 

Drinking the glorious hot coco he made you, your eyes watched at he started prepping the ingredients. His moments were sly and simple yet attractive, you still couldn’t grasp the thought of him being yours. The man practically got on his  knees till you said you’d be his girlfriend. 

“So are you just going to stare at me the whole time or help me?”  His eyes never lost focus as he caught you red handed admiring the way this hands moved. Your cheeks flushed, trying to hide yourself behind the cup of hot coco. The man could flirt with you but the moment he catches you staring you burn up like a tomato. 

“I wasn’t.” You mumble into your beverage, hoping it hide the quiver in your voice. It failed. 

Dark chuckle emits into the air, “I love the way I affect you.” Still trying to hide into your cup, you couldn’t see the way he prowled over to you. His brown eyes a little dark and his expression a little sharper. You gasped once his hands came in contact with your skin. Goosebumps arisen on your waist as he backed you up against the counter, lifting you atop it. 

You let him pull the mug away as he looked into your eyes, seeing every piece of you. Separating your knees he slide between your legs. Pulling you closer against him, you locked your ankles around his waist. He held your chin in his hands you felt every muscle, every vein, and every bone in his left hand. Placing his thumb on your chin he pried back your bottom lip. 

Your core throbbed between your legs feeling the sexual energy flowing in his blood. You were putty in his hands like you’ve always had been for him, only him. You released a whimper at the growing tension, wanting him to do something, anything. Moving closed to you, his mouth swerved past you lips and to your ear. Breathing against your neck sending shivered down you spine.

“I want to fuck you, but right now I want to make cookies with you.” He whispered softly and you could hear the teasing smiled on his lips. Just like that the burning in your core vanished like thin air and replaced with disappointment. That fucking brick, he’s done it multiple times before. yet you still haven’t learned. 

“Okay lets go.” You grab his hand, hopped of the counter and pulled him to the kitchen island. Showing no weakness, no emotion, no trace of the way he affected with his prickery.  Zach was bewildered by your response, nonetheless let you lead them. 

There was no effort needed into making the dough as Zach had measured everything out correctly.  While slinging along with the Christmas music you combined the wet ingredients and Zach did the dry. You’d never forget this moment with him, sneaking glances while you made gingerbread cookies with him.  

Wasn’t too long before combining both mixing bowls into a larger one, placing that one under the mixer. Watching the dough as it mingles everything together creating a beautiful brown and soft cookie dough. It was mesmerising to watch honestly. 

Distracted with the dough you couldn’t feel the tight hold of Zach’s eyes on you. Watching every muscle, the way your lips twitched with happiness. How your calm breathing expanded your chest. The motion of your fingers riming the brim of the mixing bowl. The way the light in the kitchen beamed off your hair, making the shade brighter. 

“I love you.” His voice sounded hazy, lost in the thought of you. 

Surprised you whipped your head in his direction, a giddy smile upon your lips. He leaned against the counter, sipping hot coco out of a forest green mug with ‘Merry’ written in white. You realised your mug and his had been a matching set, as yours had the word ‘Christmas. 

“I love you too.” It was as if the words were yanked from your soul. Maybe it was in the moment or you knew that you truly loved this man with your whole heart. But you let yourself say it and you didn’t feel the need to apologies. Zach responded with an ear to ear smile, no words and you were thankful for that. 

From there it didn’t take too long before the dough was plop on the island and rolled out. Gingerbread cookie cutters dug into it softly, before they were laid down on a cookie sheet. Then pushed inside the oven to be baked. 

“Speaking of cookies, I got you a gift.”  Looking into his doe brown eyes you held in a laugh. “How do those even connect?” You asked him, raising your eyebrow and crossing your arms accusingly at him.

“They don’t, But I got you one.” He pulls a small white box with a stunning red ribbon on top from behind his back . Small meant it was either a give card or jewellery, with him it always had been expensive. Which you were grateful for but you’d rather the small gift. Deep down you didn’t want to feel like a burden, Zach has done so much for you already.

“It’s not Christmas yet.” You managed to get out. 

“Does it have to Christmas for me to get my girlfriend a gift?” He asked his voice smooth and sounding like home. Shaking your head gently you say “No, I guess not.” It would making you feel less guilty if it had been. 

Taking the small box into your hands you watched his brown eyes light up. Starring at the little bow atop, you pulled the lid Revealing a gift that was neither what you assumed. Inside was a golden card sitting on green velvet, Not just any card, a card that was identical to his pent house key card. Grasping it into your grip you saw the small detailing. Matte background with a shinning luxurious car and letters that spelled your name. 

“What’s this?” You ask having a good idea, but you wanted confirmation.

“Key card for the parking garage.” You could spy the hesitation and anxiety swimming in his eyes. You wondered how long he’s had this tucked away. Waiting for the exact right moment to ask you again. 

“Yes.” 

“Will you move in with me?”  his words were forced from his lips like he was awaiting your denial. “I made my office into one for you, your own space. It’s all yours if you want it.” He continues not hearing your answer over his hammering heart. That explained why he kept it locked for the last two months, you never questioned it since this was his house.

“Yes” you smile, knowing you made the right choice for the both of you.”...but you didn’t have to do that Zach.”  He engulfed you in a hug and you latched onto him like it was the last time you would see him. Holding you tight to his chest you could feel his lips kiss the crown of your head. 

“Really?” His slow question vibrated against his chest where your head was laying. you moved to catch his eyes with yours, to make sure he heard you. “Yes, You’re my forever Zach.” 

[danwylds]

Right okay I never actually got myself to write this fic so have my notes for the fic except I haven’t read through them since June when I wrote them and I refuse to edit anything

Right is bakery au but not

Neil either turned down the offer of exy for the foxes or for coach whatever the fuck his name was

He got caught earlier tho which is . Unfortunate

Stuart still comes in

Maybe I’ll have him move back to Britain for a while? To avoid the moriyamas n stuff

He NEVER misses a match of the ravens/foxes tho

Which leads to him seeing the frankly sickening interview of Kevin and riko

Neil is like yo Stuart let me start smth

Stuart is like Neil the only reason you’d go back to the states right now is if you did smth that you could hide and you can’t do that for shit

So Neil is like yk what I’m gonna find a way bc I’m not letting this kid go through this (Andrews quite into this idea when it’s shared)

So he says yo. Stuart. Uncle. Sir. Let me open a bakery or something in the states

Stuart is like no you fucking idiot

And Neil is like but c o n s i d e r

You can get info or smth

Just have another business in the states yk

AND I’d get out of your hair

And Stuart is like hm okay but you’ve gotta live in a complex I choose for you

And Neil is all only if I can choose where it’s gonna be

It’s a deal

He (very obviously) chooses a place near palmetto

Stuart is tired but is like he’ll be under protection n shit so I guess??? And he’s not stupid enough to start something right. Right.

Wrong.

Anyways.

It’s a bakery that starts out kinda slow

But Neil finds he likes baking and Stuart pays for his nephew to have some sort of normal life so it doesn’t matter too much

Renee starts to frequent it

At first it’s to pick up sweets for Andrew

But eventually she starts bringing Allison on dates there bc they have a cute little seating area (figure where Seth fits in? I think he’ll survive?)

Uhhh what’s a timeline

I think this’ll be around the winter holidays (Jewish neil? Look into it)

So thanksgiving will have happened . I think Andrew agreed to go Not bc he particularly wanted to but bc he cares for Nicky and knows he’ll probably go anyways

Yeah so thanksgiving. h

Andrew JUST got off his drugs and he’s so damn protective of his own that he hardly even leaves their sides

Edens is a def no for em

Meanwhile Neil is tentative friends w Renee who has brought all the upperclassmen there a few times

Allison bullies him for his clothing but it’s okay he deserves it

Renee is sweet and stops em from doing anything too drastic which Neil appreciates

Matt,, my baby,, he’s so happy he just asks Neil about random stuff

Dan is sweet too!!

Seth kinda hates him but Neil hasn’t paid enough attention to return the favor

One day close to the winter banquet the upperclassmen are like yeah Neil we’re gonna go to this thing and it should be really fun!! Oh you know what? Our teammate Nicky needs a date and his cousin doesn’t really like anyone from his class and he’s super fucking crazy abt it so if that doesn’t deter you then you should totally join !

Neil is like oh chance to fuck up Riko? Absolutely I’ll go

ALLISON DRESSES HIM

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

when he and Allison emerge from the girls room Aaron is like Who is that

And Allison is “oh nickys date (:”

Andrew gets twitchy and holds a knife to her throat

Renee is like Andrew I stg get away from my gf and Seth is like manic pixie nightmare fuel I’m gonna beat the shit outta you

And Neil is just like same shit every day I guess

And he’s like so you’re Nicky then? COMPLETELY IGNORING YK. ALL THAT

Andrew is like “he is. Don’t touch him”

And Neil straight up says I don’t think you get to set boundaries for people, actually

And Neil has no idea what the effect is of that on Andrew but it’s enough to make him glare

Which is terrifying to everyone but Neil bc again. Dumbass

Anyways Neil very purposely hooks his arm through nickys and they head off to the bus

Dunno what happens there but I’ll figure it out

RIKOOO ROASTTT **AIRHORNNNNSSS**

It’s glorious

Kevin and riko are like who the FUCK are you

And Neil is all wouldn’t you like to know weather boy

They relocate and they’re all like . Ah. That’s why you and Renee get along

It’s kinda funny ngl

Andrew doesn’t think so but fuck him

I think that they head back to the bus when this shit I’d over and wymack is like excuse me what the fuck

And Aaron in german is like thank god he never joined the team bc I could not handle more of that

And Neil in German is like would you believe me I’d I told you I was almost signed

And Andrew is like I fucking Knew it I hate it here

N e ways things go back to normal for the most part

The upperclassmen still show up

Seth has a bit of grudging respect for him

It’s later that all the foxes are getting drunk from a lose that Renee calls him and is like Neil please can I usher them inside for a bit I think they need a place to chill so we don’t get yelled at for being too loud in the dorms

And Neil is like uhh sure why not

It turns out it was not just the upperclassmen

He gives them all water bottles and whatever and lets them lounge around

Gives em some food which they pay for w the coachs card

Uhhh idk time passes and some of the foxes pass out so neil is like y’all can chill in the break room? They have couches

He stays out there bc the bakery is still open

Andrew comes out like hey fuck you but also can I get more of those pastries

Idk I want them to be in love already

Uhh yeah I think they don’t say anything until

“what happened to your face”

“A truth for a truth?”

“If you must insist”

“Fine, my father tried to kill me”

Andrew raises his eyebrow but neils like bitch you said a truth for a truth it’s your turn now

Neil asks him why he wears arm bands

We get the whole knives and scars

They’re quiet again

I don’t know man let them be in love

Uhhh okay

I think Andrew will tell neil like

“[code]”

“Huh”

“That’s the code for the court, Kevin practices at night.”

Neil is like how would you know I’d enjoy playing exy? And andrew is like dipshit that’s how we met

I’m running out of ideas oh no

Maybe they play a couple of night game things

Exchange a few more truths

OHHH OKAY COOL SO THEN NEIL CAN GO TO EDENS W THEM THE WHOLE “DOESNT MEAN I WOULDNT BLOW YOU” THING CAN STILL HAPPEN

sick okay! They start dating but since Baltimore happened earlier they never actually come out to the rest of the team

I like to think when they play against the ravens again neils like haha babe you can have as many sweets as you want if you shut down the goal

Also Neil says it’s hot which is like a big thing to persuade Andrew but shhhhh

Yeah the foxes win they celebrate by getting drunk and they all show up at neils like hello again (:

Same thing happens but this time andrew and Neil are together and basically are doing nothing but making out

At least the store is closed

Nicky comes out and just YELLS

YALLLLLL COME LOOK @ THIS SHIT

Allison wins SO much money

Yeah idk how to end this but happily ever after :3

If you want me to turn this into a fic I will!

[missdawnandherdusk]

I Will Rise

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

You can take everything I have

You can break everything I am

Like I'm made of glass

Like I'm made of paper

Go on and try to tear me down

I will be rising from the ground

Chapter 1     Chapter 2    

Chapter 3    Chapter 4

Chapter 5     Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Summary: With the next winter holiday things get to their lowest point. But rock bottom is always the place to start building up. 

A/N: So this was supposed to be super angsty with no end in sight but ya know, I changed my mind. This is angsty don’t get me wrong, but this is also where choices are made and people are changed for the better or worse. Sidenote: I just ended a four year relationship yesterday and ya know. I’m great. Anyway. Love yall!! Let me know that you think as always!!

Draco and I stood at the Manor gates. Dark clouds rolled in, suffocating us. They threatened with snow, ice, and fury.

“It’s the Dark Magic,” Draco noted, his voice seemingly indifferent, taking my hand.

I nodded, sighing. Something was to be said about missing sunny days and warmth. Even in the dead of winter, this chill sat differently on our shoulders. Winter promised spring... this artic promised nothing but death.

Inside and unpacked, Draco and I shared a bit of tea in front of a warm fire. He was reading The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe aloud, and despite my adoration of the book, I couldn’t seem to lose myself in the words as I once had. Even with the silkiness of Draco’s voice. I now had a deeper understanding for Narnians before the events of the book. An endless winter with only a small gossamer of hope to cling too.

“Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.”

The words mocked me. Draco seemed to pick up on my disinterest.

“Don’t tell me you don’t prefer the book any longer?” There was a soft teasing smile on his lips as he closed the book, setting it on his lap. It was the one I had given him almost a year ago.

“No, I do,” It was a sad sigh. “I just... do you think someone is out there for us? An Aslan to come and save us?” I hugged my knees.

“Well, you know as well as I do,” He took the same book and flipped further back before settling on a page that seemed to satisfy him.

"Dearest," said Aslan very gently, "you and your brother will never come back to Narnia."

"Oh, Aslan!!" said Edmund and Lucy both together in despairing voices.

"You are too old, children," said Aslan, "and you must begin to come close to your own world now."

"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy. "It's you. We shan't meet you there. And how can we live, never meeting you?"

"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan. "Are — are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.

"I am," said Aslan. "But there I have another name. You must learn to know me by that name. This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

A smile brushed my lips as he closed the book again.

“But do you think that was meant for us?” I laid my head on his shoulder.

“I think that it was meant to give hope,” Draco decided after a quiet moment, “Aslan, by any other name, would still be something to believe in,”

“Unless that name happens to be Harry Potter,” I chuckled, drawing a laugh from Draco. “And have you been reading my Shakespeare?”

“Maybe a bit,” A smile toyed at his lips.

“Romeo and Juliet though?” I rolled my eyes. “I told you, it wasn’t a good story to read presently,”

“I think you also told me that it was worth keeping the books that didn’t have a happy ending,” Draco set the book on the coffee table and pulled me into his hold.

“Do you think we’ll have one?” I asked softly. “A happy ending?” His face was hard to read as his eyes fixed on the burning fire.

“How can we with what we’re going to do?” The words echoed in my thoughts as we both sobered.

The plea for him to not do what he was asked of came rushing to my lips, but I held them there. I wouldn’t tell him. I had decided on that long ago. This was the one choice that he needed to figure out how to make on his own. I was torn myself. I wanted to tell him to stop, to help him make this choice, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to. But I could stay beside him... I prayed that it would be enough for him.

Even with the holiday upon us, the air was void of excitement and magic. The Manor was decorated immaculately even still. Tears stung my eyes, when thinking that this was the first Christmas I ever had without my mother, without baking or cooking or the music or movies. There was nothing to do in the kitchen with the house elves working and practically shoving me out of the room. There was nothing to clean. Nothing to tidy or move... It felt unnatural. Draco pulled me into his arms, giving me the comfort that I craved so desperately.

“Your mother is arriving soon,” He murmured softly. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I think so... we’ve been civil through writing. How bad could this possibly be?” My words were cynical but hopeful still. “Besides... at least it won’t be just the four of us. By comparison my mother will be a delight,”

“Bellatrix has agreed to be civil, and Snape always comes for Christmas. Or has before the last couple years at least. He’s my godfather, you know. He and my father were close when they were young,” Draco’s voice was strained. “But I suppose they will all be needles in a haystack,”

“It was right to invite the rest of...” I trailed off. “They’re alone too,” 

“Always the Hufflepuff, are we?” He mused softly.

I hummed in acknowledgement. I was still wary about Bellatrix attending supper. Too many things had the chance of going poorly.

“You know we have to do this,” He read my thoughts.

“The perfect children. The perfect couple. The perfect soldiers.” I sighed. “What I wouldn’t give to go back to that night at the Ball. Or the month after...”

“It’s ironic,” Draco chuckled darkly. “That we now know ignorance is bliss,” I nodded at the doorbell chimed throughout the house.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,”

It was something quite different dining with just the Slytherins and dining with their parents as well. It wasn’t just I and Draco who were playing perfect children, but all of my friends, everyone I knew. All sapped of joy, of smiles, expression... under the scrutiny of their parents. Blaise, Vincent, Greg, Theo, and Pansy.

“How has schooling been?” My mother tried asking as the first course was served. 

“Well—”

“Ugh,” Bellatrix scoffed. “Who can learn anything with that daft old fool as headmaster?” 

“Bellatrix,” Narcissa warned gently.

“Yes, yes. Civil. As you wish,” She rolled her eyes and slouched, digging into what I assumed was quail.

Draco and I shared a look. Attempts for conversations halted after that.

Dinner passed and I barely tasted any of the surely rich foods that were placed before me. After the awkward affair, my mother asked to speak with me in private. Draco, Narcissa, and oddly enough, Snape eyed me warily.

“Of course,” I gave Draco one last look. He looked as if he were ready to pick me up and make a run for it, but he refrained.

I led her to the small rose garden that Draco had once led me to. It seemed sacrilegious to tread upon this secret haven, but it was a place that gave me comfort. Though it was covered in snow and the trees and bushes were bare, I still remembered the summer warmth the garden offered.

“You have surrounded yourself with quite a group people my dear,” Her voice strained out the words. “And that dress is lovely,”

“A gift from Narcissa,” A tight smile touched my lips. 

“So, you’ve replaced me then?”

I turned, frowning at my mother.

“You really think that?” I was baffled.

“Well look at you! New dress, new shoes, new friends! You’re living and dining with a bunch of Death Eaters for Merlin’s sake!”

“Yes, because I had so much of a choice to abandon the people I love and come home and live with my mother who lied to me for fifteen years and manipulated me!” I watched as my sharp words silenced her.

“You could have come home any time,” It was a quiet notion.

“No, I couldn’t have,” I wrapped my arms around myself and took a deep breath. “I’m going inside,”

“Please, dear. It is Christmas,”

“Yes,” I turned to face her. “And I’d rather be inside with Draco, if you can understand that.” 

“Draco,” It was nearly a sneer. “I have heard... rumors about him.”

“I really don’t think you have any right to say a word,” I said, my tone as ice.

“You’re blind. Your own love blinds you to who he really is. You’re going to get hurt,” There was an air of concern in her voice.

“No! I’ve spent years of my life terrified of letting people in because you’ve got it so deeply ingrained in me that I might get hurt! Well you were wrong about the world! And you were wrong about me!” I stalked up to her. “I have done things that you will never know! That you will never understand! I’m living through a war for god’s sake mom! And you’re here yelling at me about who I’m dating!?” I took a small step back, shaking my head. “This was a mistake...”

“Y/n, wait, please, you have to understand—”

“No mom! You... you don’t get to just waltz in here and ask me to understand! I don’t have to understand, and you really don’t get to give a damn after all you put me through! Don’t you think I want to have my mother here for me!? That it doesn’t kill me inside because I’ve never felt so alone in my life!? That everything I’ve known has been pulled from under me and while I’m trying to set myself somewhere new you just criticize me!? No! You just...”

“And what would your father say?”

I gaped at her, enraged.

“How dare you!?” I annunciated each word. “Dad would be damn proud of me! And he never would have let you do what you did to me! I am supposed to be your daughter! But I’m done.”

Without another word I stalked up to the house and inside, fuming. Draco caught me at the door, but I shrugged him off.

“Love,”

“No,” I snapped. “I need to cool down, just...” Wordlessly I headed upstairs before collapsing behind a random locked door, sobbing.

After a while, when my tears had subsided and my frame only shook minimally, I pulled myself up off the ground and stumbled over to a vanity. It must have been a guest room that I found myself in.

The girl looking back was a mess. Tear tracks stained with mascara ran down her cheeks and red lipstick was smudged out of place. Her hair was hanging haphazardly and out of order. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her lips etched into a permanent grimace.

There was a knock at the door. 

“Go away, Draco,” I sniveled.

“Do I look like that blond-haired prat to you?” The door clicked closed softly as I saw Pansy’s reflection in the mirror.

“Pansy, please... I—”

“You don’t have to tell me anything. I’m not here to console you, not particularly,” She came up beside me and leaned against the vanity. “Everything’s really fucked up, huh?” Her voice was depressed as she looked down.

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I muttered.

“You know, I can’t tell my parents about Abby at all,” Her confession was small and weak. “She’s not a pureblood, and well, they’re not as accepting as her parents are about our relationship...”

I looked up at her, my eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out why she was telling me this now.

“We haven’t spoken all holiday,” This wasn’t the strong confident Pansy I was used to seeing, but rather a broken scared teenager. “She’s mad at me because I won’t tell my parents about her, and I... I can’t do it. I’m a coward,”

I let out a hopeless laugh and smiled at her.

“I just told my mother off and now I really think I’ve been disowned,” A dry humor coated my voice. “And I’m in love with the son of the man who killed my father,”

“Well shit girl,” Pansy laughed. “You make my problems seem so trivial,”

“Not my intention,” A smile met my lips. “And I’m really sorry about you and Abby... not saying that it’s anywhere near the same... but I’m aware of what it’s like to be scrutinized for my choice in partner.”

Pansy nodded and a silence fell between us.

“You’re going to run yourself thin, Y/n. Trying to be everything for everyone.” Her voice returned to its somber mood.

“I think I’ve past that point,” I muttered darkly.

“Then tell me, little Hufflepuff, who are you going to be?” There was a slight challenge in her eyes. “You don’t have parents watching over your every move, you don’t have the constant expectations.”

“I can’t just—”

“And why not?” She shot back.

“Because I have to protect Draco,” I breathed out. “Play the part and get through this,” 

She eyed me; eyebrow raised but said nothing. “If that’s what you think,” She mused. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shot back.

“Well, the girl I met a couple years ago would stop at nothing to be herself even if it meant being teased and bullied by a couple Slytherins. The same girl who cut off all her hair and started to fight back. I just wondered what changed.”

I opened my mouth to refute her point but refrained. A lot had changed. Draco was a Death Eater now. We had a trial to get through alive or we would both die. I had to somehow manage not to get killed by his aunt preferably. I still had to pass my bloody N.E.W.T.s as if the rest wasn’t enough.

“Tell me, or don’t. But I care about Abby and Draco a lot. And now I’ve got this kid sister under my wing and I don’t want to see her drive herself into the ground like I have. This war is shit, but you... Y/n, you’re someone to believe in.”

I tutted out a laugh. “I’m a mess. Please don’t believe in me,”

“But that’s what makes you so valuable to all of us. Blaise, Theo, Vin, and Greg too. You gave us all a second chance. It doesn’t take much to lay down your life for a good man, but to forgive a bunch of villains?”

“You’re not villains,” I refuted.

“See, that there. That’s why we believe in you.” Pansy smiled. “Even through it all, you still are kind and believe in us,” She tucked my hair behind my ear. “Now let’s get you cleaned up, because I’m sure Draco is on the verge of breaking in here himself,”

I laughed and pulled her into a hug.

“Thanks Pans,”

 _____________________________________

Draco paced outside the door as he heard your ragged sobs coming from within wishing nothing more than to go in there and hold you. But you had asked for space, so he tried to honor that. Draco jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Pansy?” he asked, relaxing a bit. “What—”

“I’ve got this lover boy,” She smiled and patted his shoulder.

“She doesn’t want to be bothered,” Draco defended, glowering.

“Maybe not by you, but I think she needs a sister about now, what do you think?” Pansy raised an eyebrow at him, and it reminded him of all the times that Pansy had been there to be a sister to him and he nodded, knowing that it might help you more that he could.

Draco leaned against the wall, next to the bedroom door, his eyes closed.

“Draco?”

He peaked an eye open to find his mother on the landing with him.

“Is she alright?” Soft concern colored his mother’s voice.

“I have no idea,” It was a ragged whisper. “I knew we shouldn’t’ have invited her mother. I knew it was a bad idea,”

Narcissa laid a hand on his shoulder and tilted his chin up so that his eyes reached hers.

“It was going to happen eventually, but maybe now she can get some closure from it,” His mother sighed. “I remember the night that Andy walked out... it was weeks before that last fight and I could see how much it drained her. And you know it’s been hurting her too,”

“Andy?”

“Your aunt, Andromeda.” Narcissa smiled sadly. “Married a muggle and was disowned... she was barely older than you,”

“Talking about our dear sister again?” Another voice snarked from behind them.

They both turned to see Bellatrix leaning against the stair banister.

“She was a traitor, Cissy,” The witch sneered. “Walked away from this family. Married a muggle,”

“I know,” Narcissa’s voice was strained. “But I thought perhaps it would give some insight to what Y/n is going through,”

“Are you sympathizing with our dear sister then? Are you a traitor sister mine?” Bellatrix raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” His mother snapped. “If anything, Y/n has just affirmed her loyalty by turning her back on her muggle loving family,”

Draco knew the words were said to appease Bellatrix, but still he flinched at the reality of them and what it looked like on the outside. He knew that was far from the truth. He knew that you had walked out on your mother because she had a problem with you being with him. It had nothing to do with blood status. But perhaps the wicked narrative would keep you safe.

Three pairs of eyes snapped up as the door opened. Pansy emerged first, a smile on her face and you followed behind. You were smiling and held your head high. You were also barefoot, your stilettos in hand. Draco smiled at the sight.

His aunt on the other hand.

“Improper if you ask me,” She muttered.

“I don’t think anyone did,” The smile on your face was tight and he had to refrain from laughing at the look of shock on Bellatrix’s face. “My apologies Narcissa, I do believe that I may have ruined your dinner party,”

“Think nothing of it my dear,” His mother smiled. “I’m just glad to see that you’re alright.”

Tucked by his side, Draco tried to read your facial expressions, but even he couldn’t pick anything up. What you showed him seemed real. A real smile and real confidence, but he doubted that it was really the case given the present circumstances. But perhaps it wasn’t far fetched after all.

Bellatrix glared at you, but you held no air of worry or fear. Instead it was almost as if you were challenging her. Which left him wondering what in Merlin’s name had Pansy talked to you about.

Draco kept a close eye on you all night, but you really did seem alright. Curled up under his arm on the sofa in the company of just your friends, you were almost at ease. He itched to know what had happened between you and Pansy, but there was never a moment alone with just the two of you.

The night wound down, and soon it was only you, him, and his mother left in the large house. The both of you had drifted to the sitting room that held the grand piano. Draco’s fingers danced along the ivory keys, remembering how last Christmas he had composed for the first time. Your song was still remembered under his fingertips as it became a part of mini concert.

Christmas morning came and there were few presents under the tree, most of them trivial. Christmas seemed trivial. He had gotten a pack of permanent markers from Abby with a note saying that you would know what to do with them. You had gotten a pair of diamond earrings from him—and his mother. You both agreed, however, not to get each other anything. It was a depressing notion, but there was simply nothing to say about the occasion.

That evening, you donned your cloak and smiled at him softly.

“I’m gonna go visit Papa,” Your voice was soft and subtle. “Would you like to join me?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. He never expected for you to invite him to something like this. After the events of yesterday he didn’t feel worthy to go with you, let alone meet your father.

“It’s okay Draco, I can go alone,”

“No,” It was immediate. “You’re not going alone,”

Draco never thought that your father would be buried here. At Godric’s Hollow. He supposed it was a common place for wizards to be buried, but... he didn’t make the connection. There were others here as well and he could hear the faint hymns being sung at the church down the road. You and he were just cloaks in the crowd, two hoods visiting a loved one. You paused at a gravestone.

Walter Y/l/n

1956 — 1983

A Father and Husband

~Have Courage and Be Kind~

“Happy Christmas Papa,” You whispered softly, waving your wand, riding the gravestone of snow and frost. You sank to your knees, tears in your eyes and a smile on your lips. “I brought someone here to meet you,” Your fingertips brushed the stone. “This is Draco, Draco Malfoy. I know you probably don’t like the last name Papa, but... he is good,”

Tears welled in Draco’s eyes at the interaction. He stooped beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hello,” His voice was tight. “You have a wonderful daughter,” A pause. “And though I cannot atone for my father’s mistakes, I will try. And I will be someone worthy of her affection and love,”

You laid your head on his shoulder, not saying anything, but rather enjoying the quiet night, the soft snow starting to fall. Drawing his wand, Draco conjured a small wreath of holly at the bed of the grave.

“He would be so proud of you,” Draco murmured. “As I am.”

“He would be proud of you too,” You looked up at him, snowflakes on your eyelashes. “We should go before the snow gets worse. I can feel it growing dangerous,”

Draco’s eyes darted around to the other mourners in dark colors that made only your silver cloak stand out when his eyes landed on a rather large focal statue. You followed his gaze and stood, standing.

“Do you think Harry has ever...?” The question was soft.

“I don’t think he knows it’s here,” Draco answer truthfully, his brows tugging together.

He led you down the rows of headstones until you were before Lily and James’ gave. It was sobering, seeing it like this. Draco knew the legends and stories, of course, but looking at the small bundle etched in the stone, cradled in Lily’s arms, it seemed almost too real. With your wand, you used the same spell and cleared the grave of frost and snow.

“As much of a prick that he is...” You trailed off. “I hope he’s having a good Christmas,” 

Draco hummed in acknowledgement.

___________________________________

Narcissa greeted us at the door to the Manor. A warning in her eyes. The warning, proven to be in vain because nothing could prepare us for what was awaiting inside. The treacherous smile of Bellatrix greeted us, as she was flanked by two others, in hoods and masks—deeming them unidentifiable. Even though I had seen her the night before, her civility seemed to have vanished.

“The young prince returns, dear sister,” Bellatrix cooed. “But he has not been such a good young prince now has he?” She twirled her wand in her hand as Draco took a step in front of me, his own wand out.

“Bellatrix,” A steady recognizable voice called.

My eyes snapped to the right where Snape stood. His nonchalant demeanor almost blending in with the gloom that hung in the air.

“You know his fate, Bellatrix,” Snape did not attempt to stop her, but something held in his words accomplished the feat.

“Yes,” Her head cocked to one side as she drawled out the word. “But he is not above the Dark Lord’s law. And that goes for his harlot.”

“You will not speak to her like that,” Draco spat, growling.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. I could handle some name calling. I was just desperately trying to figure out Bellatrix’s game and why she had come back and why the hell Snape was here too.

“You know, you might have gotten away with it, little tramp, had the Ministry and that blood traitor Weasley stepped in and torn through the enchantments,” The purr fell from her lips. “And Cissy you should really know better than to leave me alone anywhere,”

Bellatrix waved her wand and I felt unseen hands grab my arms and drag me forward, to the center of the foyer, and then they were gone, causing me to stumble onto my knees. I glowered up at the witch, picking myself up and drawing my wand.

“Bellatrix!” This time it was Narcissa.

“Worry not little sister,” The witch stalked up to me, her wand tracing along the scar that resided under my shirt: from her knife the last time we had met. “She is in no harm... The Dark Lord has plans for her after all... But I am afraid that her possessions...”

My eyes went wide. I shoved the idea that the Dark lord had plans for me and finally figured out her game. The reason she was here.

My room in the manor. Filled with my muggle books, and records, and photos... Everything I had left from the family and home I no longer had.

“Yes, little pet.” Bellatrix snapped. “But I wanted to take this as a learning opportunity. That the Dark Lord will expect nothing less than perfection—dedication.”

“Bellatrix, please—” I started, only for my voice to be taken by a flick of her wand. 

“You will be silent, little toad,” She snapped.

I turned, and saw Draco standing with his mother, pure fury written on his face as Narcissa held him back. As much as I yearned for his touch and comfort, I knew that this had to be played very carefully for us to survive. His eyes met mine.

“Come, come,” The deranged witched cooed almost happily.

Draco wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me along beside him. I looked up at him with frantic questions in my eyes, but he just shook his head. Though I couldn't hear the others behind us, I was sure they were there. Standing at the door of what was once my room, I saw the scattered books, torn pages, and absolute destruction that was in the room’s wake. Tears welled in my eyes at the sight. Draco’s and Narcissa’s arms around me were the only thing that held me back from running forward to save something—anything.

“Draco,” Bellatrix motioned him forward. Rigidly he let me go and took a step forward.

“The Dark Lord and every Death Eater believes that Purebloods are superior. That Muggles are filth and should not be considered human. And yet you allow such scum in your house. Muggle scum.” Bellatrix turned to Draco. “Destroy them. Prove your loyalty, little prince.”

Narcissa’s arms became a vice grip, holding me up instead of holding me back. I ducked into her shoulder, not being able to bring myself to watch what I knew had to be done.

“Confringo,”

Time passed. I wasn’t sure how much time. Maybe seconds... maybe an hour. Everything froze around me. My lung burned for oxygen. My eyes saw nothing. There was nothing left for me to see. Nothing but destruction in wake.

________________________________

“Draco give her mind time to protect itself,” Snape’s calm voice chided, watching the young boy pace outside the room you were in, nursed by Narcissa.

“No.” He snapped. “She—Fuck she’s going to hate me! Do you realize what I’ve just done!” He nearly screeched. “I’ve just destroyed everything—”

“And rightfully so!” Snape hissed. “Do you think the Dark Lord would be as forgiving as Bellatrix? If he came here and saw such things?” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “If it weren’t for the Dark Lord’s plans for her, she’d be under a gravestone by now.”

“Plans for her!?” Draco rushed his teacher, wand out. “No. He doesn’t touch her.” The threat was malicious and icy.

“It is out of your hands,” Snape merely brushed Draco’s wand away. “Has today not been enough for you to understand that there is no other choice for you here?”

Draco took a cool step back. “Crystal.”

The door opened and two pairs of eyes snapped and fell upon a weary Narcissa.

“She is awake,” Her voice wavered slightly. Narcissa walked forward and placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “She’s asking for you,”

Ice ran through Draco’s veins as dread filled his chest. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was goodbye. Maybe this finally broke you. It’s what he dreaded the most, but knew it was coming.

You were sitting up, on the edge of the bed, your gaze cast to the floor. 

“Y/n, please, you have to—”

You held your hand up and shook your head.

“Books... can be bought again. So, can records...”

“But they—I...”

“Draco,” You called, squeezing your eyes shut. “I know.” Your voice was curt. “I know, but right now, if I dwell on that...”

He nodded and looked down.

“Can you ever forgive me?” Tears welled in his eyes as he sat beside. “Please forgive me,”

“You had no choice,” Your voice was small. “They’re just... things.” Your eyes still didn’t open. “They’re trying to break us. Break me. The Dark Lord has plans for me,” You almost scoffed. “Like I’m his pawn. Like I belong to him!” You stood pacing the room. “Well you know what? He can watch me bleed, he can watch me burn, but I will not give in!” Your voice was vehement. “I—won’t—break,”

Draco gaped at you, utterly shocked. This was... new. This was different. This was also the first time that he had ever seen you so adamantly speak against the Dark Lord with such fervor. A kind of courage that he wished he possessed. A determination that made him believe that maybe, if nothing else, you would get through this. It gave him hope that maybe he would too.

You sat beside him again and took a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. 

“How are you feeling?” You voice was gentle and soft.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” A small smile touched his lips.

A shrug fell from your shoulders and your hand ran up and along his left arm. The action alone eased the ache of the magic etched into his skin.

“I hate what I am,” He confessed through tears. “I hate what I’ve done and what I have to do. I... I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Sobs wracked his frame. “And I don’t know how you’re getting through this so well because I’m just breaking. I’m broken.”

Your arms wrapped around him, head resting on his shoulder.

“And that’s okay,” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder. “Go ahead and break. You’ve been strong too long, Draco.” Your hand ran through his hair.

He clung to you desperately, sobbing into your shoulder, hiding there. And he did break. He broke on you. He came apart at the seams in your hands and you held him together.

“I—I don’t w-want to kill him,” He sniveled. “W-why haven’t you tried to stop me?” He started to hiccup from the lack of oxygen.

You took his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“Deep breath,” You instructed and took an exaggerated breath waiting for him to follow suit. It was shaky and ragged, but Draco managed a couple. “And because I wanted you to figure that out on your own. I wanted you to make that choice,” Your thumb brushed away his tears. “And I’m so proud of you for making it,”

He nodded and collapsed back into your arms a sense of relief flooding through him despite the threats that closed in from all sides.

__________________________________

“M-miss?”

It was early January when the house-elf came to me, clutching something in her hands tightly. Cassie, I thought was her name.

“Yes?” I knelt down, a soft demeanor to the action.

“I—I am—” She started to hyperventilate, tears in her wide eyes.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” I soothed softly. “I won’t hurt you, nor tell you to hurt yourself. You’re safe in my presence,” I held my hands out, a slow action, showing the cowering house elf that they were empty and held no threat.

“I—I have been a b-bad house elf,” She cried. “I s-stole from M-miss,”

I frown furrowed my brows. I couldn’t think of anything that I owned that was worth stealing. A depressing thought tacked on that I didn’t own anything worthwhile even to me at the moment.

“It’s alright,” I smiled something sad.

The house elf held out what she was clinging too.

My photo album, the gift from Abby last Christmas. Tears sprung in my eyes as I hastily snatched the book from the house elf’s grasp.

“P-p-please do n-n-not be cross with C-C-Cassie,” The elf sobbed. “S-she likes l-l-looking at the p-p-pictures of h-h-happy mom-ments.”

“Oh, I’m not mad,” I quickly rushed out. “Not even in the slightest,” Tears streamed down my face. “You saved this,” I set the album down and drew the elf into a hug that she tried to scramble from but eventually relaxed, sobbing into my shoulder. “Thank you, thank you.” I cried.

“P-P-Please do not tell Master D-Draco,” She sniveled. “Y-Y-You have a-a-always been k-k- kind to us e-e-e-elves, p-p-please,”

“Y/n?” Draco’s voice was concerned. “Tell me what?” Cassie squawked and hid behind me, cowering. 

“M-m-m-master D-Draco,” The elf stammered apologies.

“What’s going on?” Draco was reserved, a mask of calm.

“Cassie, she saved my album.” I ran my fingers over the leather cover. “She took it from my room I guess... said she liked to look at the photos,”

Shock and relief flitted across Draco’s face in waves. He knelt down beside me and brought the book into his hands tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” He spoke softly to the house elf. “Thank you for saving what I couldn’t,” 

“Draco,” I chided softly, reaching out for him. “It wasn’t your fault,”

“Regardless if it was or not,” He turned his attention back to the house elf. “You have my deepest gratitude,”

I flipped to a worn page by my own hand, to a day last year in the snow of four friends laughing and smiling. It wasn’t much, but I supposed it was something to believe in.

.

Chapter 9

.

Masterlist

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog @savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules@akari180 @slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey@queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe@spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena@moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx@cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy@honeymarvel @darcypottah@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao@deadlynyghtshayde@iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes@anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle@dragonsandbread @okaydraco@the-queen-of-hell-things@cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing  @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter@angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake@fanficsigottaread@gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge@cleopatera@ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl@peters-legos@quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo@wollymalfoy@lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox@slothgirl22@peachesandpinks @monimillion @hufflautia @livize75@annie-mcl@riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel@coconutdawn@skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo@naughtygranger​ @queenofmankind​ @dragonsandbread​ @abundantxadorations​ @moony-artnstuff​ @myforeveryoungblog​ @and-then-a-girl-with-luv​ @1-800-luvsick​ @pandas-rice-field​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @jjustsomerandomgirl​ @mrvlfangirl3190​ @loverbbgirlsblog​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @emmaa-t​ @introvertedrae​ @infinity1o1​ @stoleurmomsvan​ @echpr​ @sunkissed-hufflepuff @dekulover​ @marshmallowtraver​ @cereuselle​

[everybodyscupoftea]

sleepover?

ole miss rafe x reader

first christmas together

(warnings: cursing, tiny bit of drinking, no editing)

During Rafe’s Christmas party with his boys, he disappeared into another room to take a phone call. He’d been drinking and had a nice buzz going on, so you weren’t sure exactly how much of the conversation he was going to remember, but when he came back, his mood had dampened and he looked significantly more sober.

You didn’t want to ask in front of his friends, so instead you passed him your bottle of water. He took it thankfully and started drinking, standing to go get both of you another when he finished it. By the time people were starting to Uber home, he looked completely sober, but still handed you the keys to drive back to his apartment anyway.

The silence in the car was heavy, you wanted to ask, but everything was so new, you weren’t sure if he’d actually tell you. Eventually curiosity won out, “Alright, Cameron, you wanna talk about it.” 

He huffed out a laugh at Cameron, he always got a kick out of it, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. After a few seconds, he answered, “Yeah. My dad called.” 

Rafe’s family was a subject he typically avoided, you hadn’t really had that conversation, you just knew that it was touchy for him, so you typically avoided it. But he’d opened the jar, so you decided to press further, “What did he say?” 

“He asked for my Christmas plans. I told him I was thinking about coming home because I haven’t been in a while. He asked about how school was going, if it would be logical to come home. I told him it was break and I had no work. Then he informed me that if I didn’t come home as soon as break started, then I clearly didn’t care enough about them, so he didn’t want to see me out of obligation.” 

You blinked a few times, trying to follow his dad’s logic, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I follow.” 

“He made up a bullshit excuse for me to not come. My father has never forgiven me for changing my major.” 

Though you’d parked, you were fine with having the conversation in the car, but he seemed ready to go upstairs to his apartment. So, the two of you walked up, giving you time to think up your next question.

Once inside, you asked, “What did you change your major from?”

He sighed, kicking his shoes off, “I’m sure you noticed that I’m a fifth year senior.” 

“I have.” 

“I started out in business. My dad wanted me to take over his company when I finished, and since he was paying for my school, who was I to say no.” 

Your heart sank as he continued, “I fucking hated it. My classes were awful, I wasn’t grasping the material. My dad was calling me several times a week threatening to stop paying my tuition if I couldn’t get my shit together.” 

He let out a shuddering sigh and scratched the back of his neck, “Eventually, I had a breakdown in my advisor’s office, mid fourth semester. She helped me take a test to figure out what my strengths were and what I should do because I clearly wasn’t going to succeed in management.” 

Rafe sat down at a bar stool, socked foot kicking at the floor, “I’d taken a gen ed history class that I’d done really well in. My advisor helped me switch my major, she told me my dad would never know. But somehow, he found out. He always does. And I lost my tuition money.” 

“What the fuck,” you stepped closer and brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah, I had a job at that point for rent. I had to get another and take out loans, but at least I was finally happy with what I was doing.” 

“That’s great,” you whispered.

“It is. The material is so much easier to grasp and I actually really enjoy it. I’m so thankful for my advisor, I don’t know what would’ve happened or where I’d be without her help. It’s taken me an extra year to catch up, but I did it.” 

“You did. That’s so impressive, being two years behind and only needing a year to catch up. While also working two jobs.” 

“My dad may hate my major, but I thought he’d at least appreciate my new work ethic. Guess not.” 

“Fuck him. You don’t need him anyway.” 

Rafe finally smiled at you, an amused look in his eyes, “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. Your family sucks, so you should spend Christmas with me instead.” 

“You aren’t going home?” 

“Unfortunately, no. I have work on the 24th and the 26th and it’s not worth making a trip home for one day.” 

Smiling softly, he nodded, “Okay, yeah. Let’s do Christmas together.” 

-

You went back to Starkville for the next few days leading up to Christmas. You and Rafe were too new in your opinion to spend that many days pretty much living together, so he was going to drive down and meet you on Christmas Eve.

Which of course meant you went straight to panic mode. Were the decorations enough or were they too much? After  two nights in a row of stress baking, you called your roommate for help.

She picked up with a sigh, and you realized it was past 2 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Why are you awake?” you blurted.

“Why are you awake?” she fired back.

“I’m freaking out,” you confessed, sitting on the edge of your bed in an attempt to stop pacing.

She snorted, “Yeah, I can tell. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Rafe is coming over for Christmas. Should I cook or get takeout? Are my decorations enough? What if it’s too soon?”

“Do you want to cook a big meal for the two of you? And like, how chill do you want it to be?”

“Pretty chill. It’s not like a formal event.”

“Okay, so do sweatpants and sweaters, and get takeout. Something you both like or if you’re feeling sentimental, something similar to what you ate on your first date. What decorations do you have up?”

You felt much better already, “I have our tree up and the lights we strung up.”

“That’s probably plenty, especially if it’s going to be casual.”

“You’re right.”

She laughed, “Always am.”

“I know, that’s why I come to you with all my problems.”

“Oh, it’s not just because of convenience?”

You scoffed, “No fucking way, I’d come to you even if it wasn’t convenient.”

Her conversation reassured you, and you put up a few more decorations, “Only a wreath and some stockings,” you promised your roommate a few nights later over the phone.

Rafe showed up mid afternoon on Christmas Eve after your morning shift and walked straight into your arms when the door opened. He let out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead into your collarbone for a few seconds before pulling back enough to kiss you.

“What’s up Cameron?”

“Hey, sweetheart, missed you.”

“I missed you too,” and to your surprise, you were telling the truth. You liked having Rafe around all the time it seemed.

He squeezed your upper arms before stepping away, “What’s the plan?”

“Gonna chill and get takeout. I did get you a gift,” you answered, a little nervously.

The gift was something you debated heavily, but you saw something you thought Rafe would like, so you grabbed it, not expecting anything at all in return.

He chuckled, “Got you one too.”

“Wow, our minds.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch watching Christmas movies. It was a slow and sleepy afternoon, the most easy going day you’d had in awhile, but for some reason you just couldn’t relax.

Around 7:00, Rafe finally broke, “Okay, what’s up?”

“Um, what?” you were taken aback.

“You’re squirmier than usual. And you’re kind of flinching away every time I shift closer.”

“I’m not,” you tried to deflect, but it sounded weak, even to you.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I-” you sighed, “I’m not uncomfortable. I just feel like maybe this is a little fast.”

“What is?”

“Spending a holiday together. We haven’t even been together a month.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Technically today is a month.”

Your cheeks heated a little, “Fine, it’s been a month. But it’s still so soon.”

“I’m not really sure how to reassure you here. Other than that it’s like spending a holiday with your friend. There are no strings attached here, I’m not moving in or asking you to marry me tomorrow. We’re just keeping each other company since neither of us can be with our families.”

You processed for a few seconds, “You’re right.”

“It’s just a sleepover.”

“You’re right.”

He smirked, “I know I am.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, shoving at his shoulder before unpausing the movie.

It was easier to relax after that. He was right, just like your first Christmas with your roommate. After a few minutes he cleared his throat, “I can sleep on the couch if that’ll make you more comfortable.”

Immediately you were shaking your head, “Nope, just like a sleepover.”

Rafe smiled, cheeks a little red, “Just like a sleepover.”

~

day 14 of @obxmermaid​‘s holiday challenge: your family sucks, spend christmas with me instead

[prinxlyart]

just any individual toh character hc would SLAP. mebbe ur thoughts on the twins idk this is vague

Nah it’s cool, I can dig it let’s do this

I only put this under a line break cuz it got so long oops lol

Emira:

Defo has a stutter that she went through a lot of intensive and grueling speech therapy sessions for (when she was about 7 years old) that she hated. Amity and Edric both know this and know it’s a sensitive topic for her. They’ll tease her lightly about it, but never in front of anyone else and they know where to draw the line. In my last Vinera post, I mentioned how much Viney adores her stutter. She absolutely loves getting Emira flustered enough to start stuttering. She’s incredibly patient and understanding when it comes to Emira’s stutter and Em’s feelings about her stutter, and she helps Emira learn to be okay with it again. It’s nothing to be ashamed of (and it’s cute).

My girl likes carrots. Like, really likes carrots. As in she’ll eat them straight out of the ground if she’s given a chance to wash it first. She really loves carrots. This is only an issue later on after she and Viney start taking care of beasts together and Emira’s been caught eating their entire stock of carrots that’s meant for the beasts. Viney has to keep the carrots in a secret box away from Emira after that point.

Emira actually really loves beasts/animals but has never been good at handling them. Any time she’d try to approach an animal to pet it, it would try to bite her. She’d get extremely pouty whenever this happens because beasts/animals love Edric. It’s not until after she and Viney start dating that Viney actually starts teaching her how to approach different creatures and her love for creatures reignites.

Emira’s a giant pushover for Amity. Only Edric knows this because he’s also a pushover for her. If Amity ever found out what power she actually holds over them, they’d be in so much trouble. They mask their love for their sister with constant teasing. Yes of course they get annoyed by her, that’s how siblings are, especially when Amity tattles on them, but at the end of the day, they’d help Amity hide the body if she asked. (The few times they witnessed her crying by someone other than their parents, they had gone on a warpath. Nobody hurts Mittens.)

Defo had a brief infatuation with Luz for like 5 minutes before she realized how head-over-heels Amity was. As long as they’re both happy, that’s what matters. She’ll take that secret to her grave though.

L O V E S having her hair played with, but like, only with people she’s super comfortable with. She has so much hair (mostly due to her mother’s wishes) and any time they all have attend some fancy gathering, Emira has to be seen by a stylist in order to get all her hair into whatever wild fancy shape her mom wants for the event. That she hates more than life itself, but whenever she’s upset, Edric or Amity grabs her hair brush and just gently brushes her hair out until she’s chill again. (She absolutely melts when Viney starts playing with her hair). In an act of defiance and because she needed this Change, the moment she and her siblings leave the Blight Manor permanently, she cuts off all of her hair. It’s very reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday. Viney loves it. Everyone loves it actually, but the biggest reactions come from Viney and Luz (they both love running their fingers through the newly cut hair because it’s so soft).

She likes to sing to herself when she’s alone. It’s rare that it ever happens because if she knows there’s other people in the same building as her, she won’t chance it. But when she knows she’s alone and no one will notice if she casts a silence bubble around herself so she can sing at the top of her lungs? You better believe she closes any doors or curtains in the area, locks everything, casts that spell and goes nuts. Her voice isn’t all that great, but it’s lovely when she’s singing quietly to herself while she does homework or something. On especially bad nights, Amity will ask her to sing to her. Emira sang to her once when they were like, 3 and 5 respectively, and it’s been their secret thing ever since for especially rough nights/nightmares.

Edric:

Yknow how James from Pokémon is just super good with Pokémon ?? Like, he knows how to treat them, he knows what they like, he asks them gently if they’d like to join them, etc. That’s exactly how Edric approaches creatures. He’s a natural with them, but he and his sister’s natural affinity for illusion magic kept him from pursuing that track of magic.

He’s always wanted a pet, but every time he brings it up to his parents, he’s met with the same firm No as always. He’s definitely gotten in trouble for trying to sneak wild creatures into the house to keep in his room. Thank Titan for Em’s cool new girlfriend who’s not only a multi-track student, but studying the exact subject he wants to study and is super eager to teach him everything she knows. He learns vicariously through her and helps her study for her tests. At first, Emira is suspicious of them, but she knows her brother wouldn’t be so cruel as to try to steal her girlfriend away from her. He’s just a dork.

My boy’s got a sweet tooth. He loves desserts and sweets and fluffy baked goods and often tries to sneak candies when he thinks no one is looking. Chocolate is a big weakness for him. When Luz introduces him to Human Sweets, he’s practically bouncing off the walls. Cotton candy??????? Flan?????? Dulce de Leche en Tabla??? He nearly passes out when Luz busts out what she calls a “chocolate fountain” and turns it on. Y’all remember that one image of a bird bathing in a chocolate fountain from a million years ago? That’s Edric.

Edric Blight LIVES to see his sisters laugh. He would pull all sorts of silly faces and dumb tricks to make Amity laugh when they were little. He still tries to make her laugh, but usually those have grown from giggles to disgruntled mumbling. He’ll never admit how much it breaks his heart and it’s not until he sees her laughing at something Luz has done that he has hope he may still be able to get her to laugh again (it’s also the first time he’s heard her laugh in years and it makes his heart soar in relief. He was almost certain their parents had stamped any concept of laughter out of her).

My boy Edric is so full of love and passion; actually quite similarly to Luz. What makes them different though is that Edric is Aromantic. He’s never had a crush in his life. He’s happy with his sisters and all of their friends and their family as it grows in the future. He has some best friends that he lives with for a while (after his sisters move in with their respective partners), but for the most part he’s chill. He loves his family, he loves spoiling his sisters’ kids, and he’s content with himself. It takes him a super long time to be content with himself, but he gets there. I will literally never get over the fact that his biggest fear is “being alone forever”. He’s never alone. He will always have his friends and family. And, thanks in large part to Luz, he has his parents back. His parents that actually were excited when he cast his first spell and tucked him in at night when he was a toddler, giving him kisses goodnight and pleasant dreams. Not the parents he’d run away from; those were the cold, uncaring, obsessed with fake concepts of popularity and status people he ran away from with his sisters. It took years, but Luz helped bring his real parents back. He loves getting to know them for who they are now that he’s an adult too.

He and Gus become best friends. Like, dumb buddy cop movie levels of best friends. They get into so much trouble when it’s just the two of them and they have the time of their lives. At first, he and Em just sort of took Gus under their wing because he was a little bit of an outcast in their homeroom for being so much younger than everyone else. But he’s a friend of Luz’s and a friend of Amity’s after a while, which automatically makes him cool in their book. They soon find themselves actually enjoying his company, rather than just protecting him from stray bullies, and they find his ability with illusion magic exciting. They themselves are considered prodigies so having another prodigy to show off practice with is super stimulating for all of them. As the years go on (and Emira spends more time with Viney) Edric starts calling more and more often for “Bro Time” where they go do stupid teenage stuff or test the limits of their magic or even just hang out and talk for hours. It’s actually all this time hanging out with just Gus that Edric discovers he’s aro; somehow it comes out that Gus has developed a crush on Edric and (major age differences aside) Edric realizes he’s never had a crush on anyone before. It’s a conversation that sucks a lot, but they’re besties and they manage to get through it. Gus maybe needs to take a day with his original gal pals to just cry about it, but he gets over it just fine. He also helps Edric understand what it means to be aromantic. Well, with the help of Luz and Willow as well; Luz is a walking dictionary for lgbt terminology and Willow’s super good at helping dissect feelings (when they’re not her own cough’outofsightoutofmind’cough).

I genuinely don’t know what he might pursue for a career. Part of me wants him to be independent and do his own thing, but a much stronger part of me wants him to just be part of Viney as Emira’s business. He loves creatures so much and he loves taking care of them, but I don’t want him to feel like a third wheel around his twin sister either. Maybe he becomes a dual track teacher at Hexside specifically for healing and beast keeping so more students can learn about Service Creatures. He can substitute for the Illusion track homeroom when needed, but he’s super passionate about the Service Creature sub-track he and Viney pitch to Principal Bump.

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.16

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: M

Chapter: 16/20

Previously <- Chapter 15: Gross Holiday Activities

Chapter 17: ??? -> Next (coming 5/9)

Author’s note: You may or may not notice that the rating jumped this chapter. It is also going to jump next chapter provided I can be a big girl and actually write the explicit content. TW: Overdose in this chapter.

Chapter 16: Heats and Ruts

“Oh, Katsuki, it’s nice to see you. What can I do for you?”

For a moment, Katsuki was completely lost for words as he looked at Inko’s haggard appearance. There were bags sitting heavily beneath her once shining green eyes and her clothes seemed to hang wrong on her frame. Like she’d lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time. Even her scent was off. Musty almost. Darker than her usual bright citrus and mint scent. Almost like when fruit began to rot.

His pre-rut had started that morning, and he could smell everything. And he meant everything. Inko’s scent made him want to gag, but he forced the reaction down.

Swallowing, he said, “Mom sent me over because you texted her about something. She thought I could help.”

“Really? Mitsuki sent you over?” She wrung her hands together, dropping her eyes before glancing over her shoulder. “Well, that might be better actually.” She glanced back at him, a sheen of tears making her eyes sparkle.

He felt his stomach begin to drop.

“Izuku won’t come out of his room. I haven’t heard him moving around. I thought it was because he was supposed to start his heat today, but I haven’t been able to smell it. I’ve been trying to give him space, but I’m worried-”

“You want me to check on him?” Katsuki asked, interrupting her ramblings.

Inko’s eyes dropped again. “You two have always been such close friends. Maybe he’d be willing to talk to you over his mother.”

‘Highly doubt it,’ Katsuki thought, mind flashing with the image of Izuku on the ice. Blood and tears and pain etched into a face that wasn’t meant for it. How it never would have happened if he’d been Izuku’s partner. Outloud, he said, “I’ll try. No promises.”

Inko stepped back to let him in, and Katsuki immediately smelled the difference in the place. It had lost the scents that he remembered so well from his childhood. Baked goods and flowers and Izuku and Inko’s scents mixing harmoniously. Instead, they’d been replaced by the strange chemical cleanness of a hospital.

It took Katsuki until he was standing in front of Izuku’s door to realize the scent was coming from his room. He glanced back at Inko. “What’s that smell?”

Inko’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Katsuki’s stomach dropped out from under him. His hand shot out to try the door handle without knocking, and Inko didn’t try to stop him. The door was locked.

“Shit!” Katsuki hissed under his breath before pounding on the door, “Hey, Deku! You awake in there? Open the door!”

“Katsuki!” Inko gasped in horror, reaching out for his arm, but unable to catch it. There was no answer from within, and Katsuki banged louder, the door rattling in its frame. “Katsuki, please! He’s healing! He’s been in a lot of pain!”

He turned a heated glare to the woman at his side. “As long as I’ve known him, he’s never locked his door. Why would he have started now?”

Inko opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her eyes were wide, fear beginning to cloud them.

“I’m going to break the door. Step back.” Inko followed his instructions without comment, and Katsuki immediately rammed his shoulder into the door. Pain lanced through his shoulder, his frame still bonier in all his pre-teen glory than he would have liked. The door was flimsy for the most part though, not meant to hold up to vigorous assault, and it took less time than Katsuki had assumed to break it open.

He fell into the room as the door swung open, and wretched at the strength of scentlessness of the space. A space that had always been so drenched in Izuku’s scent, every one of his emotions. Now there was nothing. Not even a whiff of happiness or anxiety. It was wrong. All of it was so fucking wrong.

Once he’d gotten his gagging under control, he took in the scene. There was an empty orange pill bottle on the bed near an open hand. Little white pills scattered across a navy blanket and tan carpet. The longer Katsuki looked, the more damning the picture became.

It was only until he made it to Izuku’s face that ice water was injected straight into his veins.

Sunken eyes. Stringy, greasy curls. Hollow, distant, clouded green eyes. His chest didn’t seem to be moving.

“Fuck! Izuku!” He raced for his childhood friend, grabbing the limp wrist by the pill bottle and holding it so tightly that he felt the bones grind together. It took several long moments for Katsuki to feel a faint flutter, but still, there was too much space between each beat. “Call an ambulance! Auntie, call an ambulance! Goddammit, Izuku, what did you do?”

He didn’t wait to see if Inko had followed his orders. He turned Izuku on his side, prying his mouth open to shove his fingers down the boy’s throat. There had been so many times over the past year during his ruts that Katsuki had imagined doing this exact thing, but never had he imagined it would be in this context. He never wanted it to be like this.

“Please, please, please,” he prayed desperately as he reached and reached until he felt Izuku’s body begin to convulse. He hung the boy’s head over the side of the bed, ignoring the sick that splattered across the floor. Little white pills floated in the yellow liquid, most nearly dissolved. Even as Izuku stopped wretching, he remained catatonic, no life to his eyes. 

For the first time in years, Katsuki felt his throat close and his eyes burn with tears. “No, Izuku, don’t fucking do this! What about your mom? What about the team? What about me? You can’t do this to us! Izuku!”

Inko whirled back in, her hair wild and face tear streaked. “They’re coming! They’re coming!” she screamed, running over to Izuku. “My baby! Why? How did this happen?”

It took what felt like forever for the paramedics to arrive, and Katsuki watched from the curb as Inko scrambled into the back of the ambulance without a second look back at him. He stood there silently until suddenly there were arms around him. Mitsuki dragged him into her chest and stroked his hair roughly, and it was only then that he realized how sore his throat was.

His parents took him to the hospital hours later. When he’d calmed down and Inko had called to say that Izuku had woken up, and it was only moments after that that he found himself standing at the omega’s beside.

Izuku stared straight ahead, eyes sightless and flat, while their parents slipped out into the hallway.

“Why?” Katsuki whispered desperately, reluctant to reach out for the boy to get his attention.

He didn’t need to though. Izuku blinked slowly, and when his eyelids opened again, his eyes were on Katsuki. Still, he didn’t seem to even realize Katsuki was there. “Why?” he repeated, voice raspy from the rough treatment of his throat, like he didn’t understand the question.

Katsuki seethed, and it was a chore to keep his voice down. “Yes, why, Izuku! Why did you do it? You- You almost died. Do you realize that? Is that what you wanted?”

Even more slow confusion clouded his already cloudy eyes. “No, I don’t want to die. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I didn’t know it could.”

“You can overdose on anything, idiot! Why didn’t you stop if you weren’t doing it on purpose?” It was all Katsuki could do not to tear his own hair out in frustration. Or to start crying again. He didn’t want to cry again, not in front of Izuku, not in front of anyone. He was supposed to be the strong one.

Izuku reached out, but Katsuki jerked his hands away at the chill of his fingers on his skin. He didn’t seem to notice, clasping the bed railing instead. “I just wanted it to stop.”

Katsuki waited, and when it didn’t seem like Izuku was going to continue, prompted, “Stop what?”

“The pain. I just wanted it to stop.”

He couldn’t stay there, not with this deadeyed Izuku or his complete lack of scent, and turned out of the room. Masaru caught a glimpse of his face before he hid it away to duck around the trio, and it was his dad who found and held him that time while Mitsuki stayed at Inko’s side.

…..

December Week 1

Katsuki should have stayed home.

As soon as he stepped into the rink for practice, he knew that. Every little loud sound from his teammates and burst of scent sent his mind reeling with anger. Every time one of them got too close to Izuku sent his mind reeling with anger. Every time he caught the remnants of chemical scentlessness sent his mind reeling with anger.

The overwhelming rage and jealousy was his constant companion.

Not only that, but when he did catch a clean breath of Izuku's scent, the scent of approaching heat, it just filled him with the urge to 'Mount, mate, mark, mine, Mark, mate, Mount'. The only thing he could do was grit his teeth against the urge.

He knew that if there were still suppressants in Izuku's scent, especially with his heat coming on, that meant Izuku wasn't ready to share a nest with him. Not that Katsuki had expected him to, but he thought maybe he'd at least come off his suppressants. It would be best if they'd be gone at the same time.

Thinking about it though, Katsuki had never seen Izuku take time off for his heats. Did that mean their cycles had always lined up? Or maybe Izuku's cycles were just very short, lining up with the weekends? The only thing was, he could never remember Izuku smelling of heat. But he could remember Izuku smelling like suppressants when he would get too close to the omega.

And now, as the rest of the team gathered their bags and called their goodbyes, he searched desperately for a memory. The only one he could drag up was from more than a decade before.

Some time later, a darker thought filled his mind.

The only other option was that Izuku just had been skipping heats somehow. And that pissed him off for an entirely new reason.

…..

Izuku didn’t know why he thought they’d be able to keep going without a fight. That wasn’t who they were. They were arguments and biting words and seething tempers and teeth clenched in utter frustration. They were not, in fact, tender lovers who only had sweet words and soft touches for each other.

Still, Izuku let himself fall for the wonderful evening with all of its beautiful lights and cozy coats and hours of recreational skating and the way Katsuki had been so much more beautiful than anything else around them. The kiss they’d shared, the only kiss thus far, had made his knees weak, and he wanted to experience that sensation for the rest of his remaining days.

He’d been lulled into complacency by the feeling of what he thought may be love beginning to bloom between them, and hadn’t realized just how quickly his suppressants were running out.

Now, standing on the ice late at night, Izuku couldn’t help but be hyper aware of every little thing. The slight ache of his feet in his skates. The soft sound of his blades biting into the ice. The taste of the cake Satou had brought to practice earlier that day that Izuku had saved a piece of. Katsuki’s scent, full of anger and lust and pre-rut, congealing on his tongue until it was more of a taste than a smell. Katsuki’s eyes burning into him every time he stumbled across the ice or trembled in his hands or ran his hands through his curls. The heat beginning to burn him alive from the inside out, like he’d been freezing and then plunged into a hot tub.

Panting, Izuku stumbled through simple footwork he’d never had trouble with before. They slid to a stop, and Katsuki’s hands tightened on him. Izuku didn’t want to look at him, to see the disgust on his face. Because surely he would be disgusted. He would know that every negative thing he’d ever thought about Izuku would be true.

“Deku,” Katsuki’s voice was low, but furious, and when Izuku glanced up to meet his eyes in a flash of defiance, he saw that Katsuki knew. Knew all of his secrets and sins and wants.

“No.” He turned from his partner, hurrying towards the entrance with energy from a reserve he didn’t know he had. The reserve of terror.

“Deku!” Katsuki snapped, following him off the ice. Neither of them paused long enough to put their guards on, and somewhere in the back of his brain, the part that always thought about skating winced.

Izuku could feel Katsuki right on his heels, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off his body. Or was that Izuku’s own heat radiating back at him off his thermals? No, he’d taken off his thermals hours ago. It had to be Katsuki then with cayenne in his scent and possessiveness in his grip.

The grip that was currently wrapped around Izuku’s upper arm, jerking him to a stop just as he reached for his bag.

“Deku!”

“No, Kacchan!”

“We’re going to talk about this!”

Izuku whirled around to face Katsuki, the bleed through of Katsuki’s pre-rut fiery fueling him as he shouted, “What, Kacchan, what are we going to talk about? We never talk! And you know what, I’m not in the mood to get berated! I’m going to go home and go to bed!”

As if he hadn’t heard a single thing, Katsuki continued. “We’re going to talk about the suppressants!”

“No, we’re not!”

“I don’t understand, Deku. Why would you chance taking them after what happened when we were younger? I’ve been smelling them in your scent since we started skating together! Why are you still taking them?”

Izuku threw up his arms. “Well, guess what, Kacchan? I’m not taking them anymore. How wonderful! How amazing! How great for everyone, but me!” When his arms dropped back to his sides, he glared at Katsuki. “And stop pretending like you know what happened that day. You weren’t there. You’re making assumptions you have no place making.”

Katsuki's face fell slack, and it was the first time that Izuku could ever remember seeing that expression on his face. After a moment, it shifted back to anger. “What the fuck are you talking about? I was there!”

“No, you weren’t! My mom was the one who took me to the hospital!”

“I was the one who fucking found you!” Katsuki roared, “I was the one who knocked down your door and found you with all those pills in your stomach! Of course you wouldn’t fucking remember because you were too far in your goddamn head! I was the one who stuck my fucking fingers down your throat to make you puke them up! That was me! And you expect me to not care about you still taking suppressants even when you’re about to go into heat? I want to be your fucking mate, Izuku, of course I care!”

Izuku couldn’t hold himself back anymore. “I don’t want to have a heat!” His words were something between a scream and a sob, and they echoed deafeningly around the rink. He’d never said them aloud before, and he covered his face with his arms to run away from their truth. His breath came out as a shudder when he whispered, “I don’t want to have a heat, Kacchan.”

Strong arms wrapped tightly around him, and he immediately melted into the touch. Just like an omega. He hated it. Wanted to fight it. Wanted to stay angry just to feel something new.

Instead, like a switch being flipped, unwelcome searing heat pulsed through him. “No,” he moaned as that ever so distant, but unforgettable pain settled in his abdomen, “Not here. Not now.”

…..

Katsuki jerked away from Izuku as his scent flared like a supernova, overwhelming in its sudden sharpness. There was finally no trace of suppressants left. When he met Izuku’s eyes, it was to find them wide with pupils blown.

"I need- I need my- I need my nest. Kacchan, I need my nest. Not here. Not now. I need-" Izuku rasped, the hand on Katsuki’s arm the only thing seeming to keep him from doubling in on himself.

Katsuki crowded Izuku, burying his nose in the crook of the omega's neck, right up against his scent gland. ‘There! Right there!’ That's the scent he'd been wanting to smell underneath all of the chemicals and artificial hormones. Mint and a thunderstorm and now, warm summer apples. He exhaled shakily. It was so strong, and so wholly right.

"Kacchan," Izuku moaned, body trembling against his, heat radiating off him in waves, "Please, my nest."

"I've got you," Katsuki rasped against his throat, fighting every neglected instinct in his body that told him to, 'Mount. Mate. Rut. Heat. Mate. Mount. Mark. Mine.' Never before had his alpha been so insistent during his ruts -never in his life, period- but now his alpha was nearly screaming at him, pressed as far forward in his mind as Katsuki would allow. Screaming for him to assert his dominance, to take what was his. Fuck, but he didn't want to be like other alphas. "I'll get you back, Deku. Can you stand?"

"Just don't let go of me." Izuku's words were a whisper right against his ear, and it became just that much harder to think straight.

Was this what other alphas’ ruts were like all the time? Clouded? Focussed on one thing only? Driven mad by the mere thought of an omega in heat? He hated it, wanted it to stop, wanted to be in full control of his thoughts again. Still, there was his alpha right at the forefront of his mind, 'Mount. Mate. Mark. Mine.' He wished it would shut the fuck up long enough for him to rub his two remaining brain cells together. The two brain cells not currently taking the interstate down south.

"Can you put your shit on? It's freezing outside," Katsuki asked before he realized how stupid that actually may have sounded. If Izuku really was spiraling into heat, no amount of cold was going to affect him. It might still affect Katsuki though.

"No," Izuku moaned piteously, skin flushed red as his head lulled back on his shoulders.

"I know. I didn't think. But I need to get my stuff on."

"Let me help."

Together, they wrestled Katsuki into his coat, gloves and hat and each other out of their skates without breaking contact in some form or another. Izuku's fingers on the back of his neck. Katsuki's arm slung across Izuku's waist. Their foreheads pressed together. When Katsuki pulled their bags over one shoulder and Izuku slumped into his other side, he slipped the beanie, scarf and gloves he'd gifted Izuku onto him. "Just these. I know you're overheating, but that's not going to save your fingers or ears."

"My nest," Izuku whispered instead of answering, pressing closer into Katsuki's side, so close that there wasn't any space between them, “I don’t have- I need- A nest.”

By the time they got back to their apartment complex, Izuku had wiggled his way into Katsuki's jacket and he couldn't tell if he was hot because of Izuku or his rut was finally cresting. If he were a betting man, he would have bet on the latter.

“Deku, where’s your nest?”

Izuku wasn’t paying attention as he dragged the fluffy red blanket off his couch and onto the floor. There, he wrapped himself up tight, trembling as he slid to the floor with a moan.

Katsuki frantically searched the small apartment for where the idiot’s nest might have been. He checked the kitchen, bathtub, closet, bed and even beneath the bed. He came up frustratingly empty.

Hurrying back, wobbling a little with the ungodly hard-on he was toting, he crouched beside the omega. As gently as he could, he shook Izuku to try and rouse his attention. “Nerd, where’s your goddamn nest? I need to get you in it before I leave. And I need to leave sooner rather than later.”

Izuku blinked green eyes hazy with heat and pain up at him. His mouth hung wide, panting out small agonized breaths. “You can go, Kacchan, I’ll be fine.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t go anywhere until you’re safe in your nest! And where’s your heat supplies?”

“Don’t have any.”

Katsuki blood ran cold, distracting him long enough to catch his stupid alpha’s attention and point it in a different direction other than down. “What do you mean?”

Izuku’s eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I thought- I wasn’t expecting it. I thought- I’d be able- to find a way around it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Deku? No, you know what? Where’s your goddamn nest? I’ll dump you in it and bring half of my supplies over.”

“Don’t have one,” the omega moaned, the words increasing in volume to become a full blown wail.

“What do you mean you don’t have one!” Katsuki shouted, unconsciously mimicking Izuku’s volume and tone.

Izuku’s just sobbed desperately, curling in on himself within his blanket.

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-” If the omega didn’t have a nest, there was no possible way he could stay in the apartment. He would make himself sick without one. Sick from fear and anxiety. Sick from discomfort and being unsafe. Katsuki had a solution, but at the same time, it wasn’t much of one at all. Because they had only just come to terms with each other, started courting. They hadn’t even sussed out the monumental mountain of bagage they had between each other. Still, Katsuki couldn’t leave his omega without food or water or safety.

Carding his hand through Izuku’s curls, he purred loudly to get his attention. “Izuku.”

His given name more than anything probably made Izuku’s head lift, eyes narrowed but focussed on him.

“Listen, I know this is going to sound crazy, and it is crazy, and dangerous, but I can’t leave you alone in this apartment without everything you need.”

“Kacchan?”

“I have a nest. I built one. For you,” he said haltingly, even now terrified of being rejected, “Just in case you ever-”

“Yes!” Izuku cut him off, hand clawing out towards Katsuki to grip at his wrist, “Please, it hurts, please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Katsuki didn’t need to be told twice. He scooped his omega into his arms, blanket and all. He all but ran for the door, only restraining himself from actually running due to his precarious hold on his package.

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Fifteen: Christmas and Conspiracies

"What's even the point of tinsel?" Iko asked, biting off the head of a frosted gingerbread-man.

Cinder sprinkled thin strands of silver tinsel along the branches of the miniature tree from the chair she was seated in. There was a single string of white lights climbing through the green, earthy smelling branches, and only a few bulbous ornaments.

Christmas had always been Cinder's favorite holiday. For one, it was sisters with her birthday, and it was also the only good memory she had of her mother; decorating the Christmas tree had been the only thing they'd ever done together, and Cinder had always gotten to sleep under the tree with all of its beautiful lights.

"I think it makes it look like it's snowing." Cinder reminisced. When she had been a child, her mother had told her stories of how magical Christmas elves had cast a snowing spell on the tree just for an extra Christmas surprise. Cinder hadn't known that her mother was the Christmas elf, or that tinsel could be bought a dollar per pack.

Iko snorted, and Cinder glared at her. Over the past couple days the girls had become well acquainted with one another. Iko had grown up with her paternal grandmother in Boston. Her mother had left when she was only two, and her father died of Lymphoma a year later. Iko had no memories of either of them, except for her grandmother forcing her into a black dress for her father's memorial service.

When Iko turned nineteen, her grandmother died. She was not a wealthy woman, having no education past high school and only ever working at a grocery market, but she left Iko with enough money to pay college tuition. Iko got a degree in nursing, and worked in Boston until she followed her boyfriend to Hayden. When the guy cheated on her with a pretty blonde french girl, she dumped him, but stayed in Colorado.

"What?" Cinder challenged.

"It's just..." Iko smiled wistfully. "You come off as this tough I-can-take-care-of-myself kind of woman, but then you say stuff like that and you're an innocent little girl."

This time it was Cinder's turn to laugh. "Iko, you're only three years older than me, and I'm not a little kid."

"I know that," Iko asserted confidently. "It just makes me sad to think that someone like you had to live with... the people you did." Iko smiled morosely. Cinder stared at her with wide eyes, and her heart seemed to crinkle like foil. "Do you want some hot cocoa?" Iko asked, changing the subject before Cinder could sink deeper into self-pity mode. Cinder nodded amiably.

Iko stood and skipped to the kitchen. She continued to talk to Cinder, prattling on about how her Grandmother had taught her the proper way to make cocoa, but Cinder wasn't listening. Her mind had slipped to the boy with the dazzling copper eyes of fire, black messy hair, and the gray sweatshirt with his scent that Cinder kept on wearing.

Cinder had tried to hate Kai, but she couldn't. She had thought of every reason why she should: him nosing through her business, him calling her by that cursed name, his bringing Cress back and putting all of them in danger. No matter what she thought, she still couldn't hate the boy who cared only for her well-being.

She knew that she couldn't stay with Iko forever, and would, at some point, have to face Kai. It pained her to think of their next meeting and the hurtful words she would have to scourge him with in order to keep him away; because he had to stay away. Cinder wouldn't let him become another casualty of her existence.

"Here you go," Iko sang, placing a steaming cup of liquid chocolate in Cinder's hands. It only made her think of Kai and his partial chocolate scent.

"Thanks, Iko," Cinder smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" Iko asked, sipping from her large green mug. Iko was fervent about the color green; she said it went with every holiday and was always festive. That was perhaps why Iko's small apartment was accented with green in the most fashionable way possible.

Cinder shrugged, taking a swig from her own mug— it was a darker shade of green, more evergreen— and her whole body seemed to tingle with pleasure. She clutched the warm mug tightly against her chest, reveling in the pure bliss of a warm cup of cocoa. "Nothing."

"Oh, really? I didn't know Kai changed his name." Iko smirked.

A blush spread across Cinder's cheeks, and she buried her face in her mug. Iko laughed, seeming to get more confirmation to her statement than anything Cinder could have said.

"Are you really still mad at him?" Iko inquired. "Because personally, I think he is way too hot to stay mad at."

"I think he's more cute than hot," Cinder diverted, her cheeks coloring to Santa's favorite shade of red.

"Aww," Iko teased, twisting her shoulder upward and grinning. "But really, when are you gonna talk to the guy. He's probably at home, baking Santa cookies and praying that you're under his tree tomorrow morning. You gotta talk to the guy."

Cinder drained the last of her cocoa with a smack of her lips. The back of her tongue was coated in sticky sugar, but it was all worth it. "He's not obsessed with me, Iko," Cinder said. "And he most definitely won't want me under his tree; pine needles give me an allergic reaction."

Iko laughed at this, just as a knock sounded from Iko's door. Cinder froze, her first thought going to Kai. Iko, seeming to read the terror off of Cinder's face put her at ease. "Don't worry. My friend Scarlet is just coming by to drop some things off from the hospital. You remember her, right? She was one of your nurses."

"Oh, yeah. I like her," Cinder said absentmindedly, her shoulder still tense and eyes on the door. Cinder did in fact like Scarlet, though in a different way than Iko. Scarlet didn't talk much, but was always seemed to know exactly what Cinder needed.

Another knock sounded at the door, more urgent than the first. "Geez, take a chill, Scar. A lady may take her time to answer the door." Iko yelled, though only more pounding came from her statement.

Iko unlatched the door, and it swung open before she could even touch the knob. "What the–"

"Sorry, Iko," Kai winced, his knuckles were red and split. He had great dark circles coloring under his eyes like bruises. His hair was messier than usual, and his clothes were rumpled. Cinder felt her heart twinge with worry for him before remembering her pact to hate him.

Behind Kai trailed a jovial Thorne— who threw a wink at Cinder and a flirtatious smile at Iko— and a small, scared looking Cress. Cinder froze with terror.

"Hey!" Iko yelled, trying in vain to shove the onslaught out the door. "Get the–"

"Iko," Kai pleaded. "Please, I have to speak with her; it's urgent."

"I told you no then, and I'm telling you no now!" Iko spat, standing protectively between Cinder and Kai.

Kai tried to peer at Cinder, but she was staring at the ground. "I have to–"

"First you call me a thousand times, and now you break into my house," Iko blazed. "She doesn't want to talk to any of you. Especially if you brought her," Iko sneered, glaring pointedly at Cress. "So get out, before I make you get out."

"Sheesh, you have a lot of fire, hot nurse," Thorne whistled. "Do you maybe want to go out sometime?"

Iko and Kai both turned to glare at Thorne, who respectively put his hands up in surrender. "I'll take that as a I'll-think-about-it."

"Get out–" Iko fumed.

"Please!" Kai begged, his eyes glittering and huge.

"No. I'm done with you hurting Cinder. She doesn't deserve it, so stop. Get out before I make–"

"I'll talk with him," Cinder interjected, surprised at the words that came out next. "And Cress."

"But what about–" Thorne whined.

Cinder cut him off before the words could escape him. "I have this deep yearning to strangle someone today, and I bet you like your eyes inside your skull, am I right?"

Thorne pouted. "I'll wait outside."

Iko glanced at Cinder, a question in her eyes. Cinder could tell that she wanted to stay and help, but this was something that Cinder needed to do on her own. Cinder shook her head.

"I'll wait outside, too," Iko said, obviously trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

The two outcasts left out the door, both of them looking rather unhappy to be left out of the fun. When the door clicked shut behind them, Cinder spun on Kai and Cress, her eyes blazing and her heart heavy. "Why on earth–" Cinder practically yelled at Cress, "–would you come back?"

***

Kai flinched at Cinder's words— no, the tone of her words. She said them with venom and hate and hurt. Cress had hurt Cinder—bad—but Kai knew that they could work it out. He hoped, at least.

Over the past couple of days, Kai had tried to find Cinder. He tried the hospital, though they had no clue where Cinder was. He tried Iko, but she told him nothing. It wasn't until Kai had spoken with nurse Benoit that he had discovered Cinder's location.

Kai had called and texted and practically cornered Iko at the hospital, but she had been firm; if Cinder didn't want to see Kai, she didn't have to. But Kai had to.

Cress had revealed nothing more to Cinder's past than her words after the failed surprise party. She had told Kai and Thorne that it was Cinder's business and that she was done betraying Cinder. Kai admired the loyalty, but he was dying to understand what Cinder's deal was.

"I have to explain myself." Cress squeaked. "I need you to know why I did what I did and how I've regretted it ever since."

Cinder scoffed, but didn't interrupt. She wasn't looking at either of them, but burning identical fiery holes into the carpet. She remained seated in her chair, and tinsel decorated her hair and arms. Kai itched to pick it out for her, but restrained himself.

"I promise, Selene, I am not here to hurt you anymore," Cress cried. She had hardly slept in the past three days. She had stayed at Kai and Thorne's apartment in the guest room, though she tended to spend the nights pacing the house and finding unusual places to read.

"It's Cinder," Cinder said crossly. She continued to stare at the floor.

"Cinder," Cress amended. "Remember when we were in high school and you told me about your mom?" Cress asked.

"Yes," Cinder tiffed. "And I also remembered how you betrayed me and told the whole school how I killed Peony."

Cress took a step towards Cinder, her hands trembling. "I know," she whispered, "and it has been the greatest regret of my life."

Cinder looked up, shock in her eyes. "What?"

"I-I messed up." Cress said. "I researched, just like you asked me to. We tried everything, read every book, and none of it made sense. None of it worked."

Kai glanced between the two girls, confusion and curiosity burning within. He wasn't understanding a word of their conversation; everything was too vague.

"I started to think that Ran was maybe just a freak accident. The letter was weird, but I mean, it would totally make sense if the shock of the event had made you hallucinate. But after Peony..." Cress swallowed hard. She was now kneeling in front of Cinder, the two girls at eye-level. "I thought that you had created Her. I thought that you had killed Peony."

Cinder's jaw dropped. "I didn't do it! I told you Cress, I couldn't have created a–”

"I know!" Cress held her small hand up to silence Cinder. "I realized that after you left. You didn't see Her die, so..."

"I couldn't have created Her." Cinder finished.

Cress looked at her old friend, and understanding seemed to pass through them like an electric current. "But I know how to stop Her. I figured it all out. I-I'm sorry that it took me so long to find you, but I thought you wouldn't want to see me. I–"

"You know how to destroy Her?" Cinder exclaimed. "Cress, how?"

"Do you still have Her bracelet?" Cress asked. She had an illumination to her face, and her eyes were alight with relief.

"Yes, I do," Cinder confirmed.

An image of a small braided bracelet shot through Kai's mind. He remembered the letter and the picture as well. The girls were prattling through a list of things that they would need, but Kai's brain was completely lost. He didn't understand a word of their ambiguous conversation.

"–we'll need to go to the place where it originally happened and summon Her. That's the only way we'll be able to stop Her; to confront Her." Cress said.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Kai took a step forward, and both girls tilted their eyes up to look at him. Bewilderment painted their faces, as though they had forgotten that he was there. "What are you guys talking about? What are we trying to summon? What is going on?"

Cress looked at Cinder, and the two exchanged a glance. "Do you want me to tell him, or..." Cress asked. Cinder stared at Kai, and it was only then that he noticed she was still wearing his grey sweatshirt.

"Kai," Cinder murmured, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

[nataliedanovelist]

My 2020 Tumblr Top 10

1). 471 notes - Oct 6 2020

I would fucking die for this owl.

2). 303 notes - Feb 9 2020

GF - Dr. Mystery (A gift I did for the amazing @siro-cyll​.)

Ever since the Pines family had returned to Gravity Falls for the summer, Soos and Stan shared the role of Mr. Mystery. It was primarily Soos’ responsibility so that Stan could sit in his boxers for as long as he wanted, but every so often - to give the old man something to do or so Soos could work on a project or a repair - it was like the good ole days with the original My. Mystery scamming tourists and a humble handyman making the shack stand strong.

Unfortunately, Soos caught a bad case of the summer flu, and so to try to keep two old men and two young teenagers from getting sick, he quarantined himself in his room and Stan had to fill in the My. Mystery role. It felt good to be back in his old ways for a bit, amazing gullible tourists with made-up attractions; he had been doing this for thirty years, he could do it for a week, right?

3). 253 notes - Feb 5 2020

GF - Tiger Stripes (Another gift for @siro-cyll​!)

With the soft, warm steam coming from his mug, the pleasant early-morning sun baking his naked chest, and the cool breeze awakening his senses gradually, it would be an understatement to say that Ford was comfortable.

The breeze ruffled his fluffy charcoal-gray hair playfully before disappearing, leaving behind a still Summer’s air. While it is true that he became cold easily, one of the reasons why he wore turtleneck sweaters all year-round, the star his planet revolved around warned his exposed skin pleasantly and Ford felt no anxiety nor unpleasant chill as he stood on the porch, watching the day begin.

4). 240 notes - Sep 8 2020

1 Minute and 4 Seconds of Pain (This was both fun and painful to put together. Credit to everyone in the video who participated.)

5). 197 notes - Feb 14 2020

GF - Sweatertown (... I may or may not have gone overboard back in Feb. Sorry, @siro-cyll​. ^^; )

It was raining that day. Maybe that was why it took Ford awhile to decide that it wasn’t a figment of his imagination he was hearing, or another natural sound the woods would make in this weather. No, no it was definitely crying.

6). 180 notes - Oct 9 2020

GF - Can’t Stand It (Oh gosh, a gift for @ho-ne-ye​ that she AND @sealbatross​ were kind enough to draw for. Thank you so so much guys!)

Stan was having a bad day. Well, a bad week. Scratch that, a bad month.

It was March, a beautiful time out in the Arctic. For several weeks the Stan twins hardly ever saw the sun or didn’t see it at all. Closer to the holidays they traveled down south to Northern Europe, exploring the United Kingdom and the Northern Islands in order to enjoy daylight, but now that Summer was approaching and Spring was on their side, the Stan O’ War II was moving up to sail above Canada, breaking melting ice and meeting new creatures.

7). 163 notes - Mar 18 2020

GF - Boxing (... How does the saying go? What goes around comes around? Do something nice and the world will do something nice in return. Huh. I’m noticing a pattern with all of my top 10s... Anywho! I did this one for @artsymeeshee​!)

It all started back when the Pines family first arrived back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was up in the storage room (It was much fuller than wise, but the attic was used as a bedroom at the moment.) and had dragged Dipper along with her to help find some old photographs. With only two weeks to work on her special birthday present for her grunkles, she needed all the help she could get in making them the perfect gift: a new scrapbook full of old photos of Glass Shard Beach and pictures Mabel had saved on her phone and was going to print of the old sailors out at sea.

8). 136 notes - Feb 10 2020

GF - Arm Wrestling (ANOTHER gift for @siro-cyll​! Seriously, they’re a gem for tolerating me. XD )

Fiddleford cleared his throat, a feeble attempt to get his colleague’s attention, but to no avail. He sighed and sat cross-legged on the grass, his backpack full of gear by his side. He propped up his head by his chin and on his fist, his elbow on one knee, and he watched half-bored, half-amused, as his best friend arm-wrestled a unicorn.

And no, the author did not mean to put down “harmed, wrestled and mourn”, nor did the composure of this tale mean “alarmed and sworn in”. No, the anomaly-researcher was truly arm-wrestling a unicorn, and had been at it for a few hours now.

9). 127 notes - Oct 27 2020

GF - Amalia (OH MY! @artsymeeshee​ had blessed us so I had decided to give her something in return.)

The snow reflected the tiny amount of sunlight the capital of Iceland received. Spring was coming, though still a ways off, but the large island still welcomed the sun that was starting to rise earlier every day and stay longer as February was coming to a close.

10). 123 notes - Jul 26 2020

GF - Counting Stars (A gift for the wonderful @sealbatross​!)

Original comic belongs to @sealbatross! GUYS, they’re so talented, I luv ‘em! GO SHOW ‘EM SOME LOVE!!! Sorry it’s a little choppy, but the original comic just flows SO WELL! I highly recommend checking the original post. 

[tagsecretsanta]

From @hodgehegposts

to @eirabach

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

It had all started one, late, night, when Alan was back on duty on the Island and Brandon was busy halfway around the world trying to piece together enough footage to keep his vlog going over the next few weeks so that he could visit Alan without having to worry about not producing content. Their relationship seemed to be walking the tightrope that their two competing schedules spun, relying on snatched moments of contact over vid-calls and flying visits, but for the moment it was working for them. Brandon knew, deep in his heart, that the moment that it seemed to be getting too much, that it wasn’t enough any more to sustain themselves with these brief glimpses, that he would leave to go to the Island and be with Alan full time, if Alan would let him, knowing that Alan could never give up International Rescue even if he tried, but they hadn’t reached that stage yet. For now, they were coping, for now it was okay, even if it was at times tiring.

“Do you ever think,” Alan had said that one late night, huddled up in bed and cradling his comms device close to him. “Do you ever think that like, this isn’t the only universe?”

“What do you mean?” Brandon had asked, hair tousled from sleep, a mug of coffee on his bedside table growing cold. 

“Like, do you think that maybe somewhere else, there’s an Alan and a Brandon who are able to spend all their time together? Like, an Alan and a Brandon where there isn’t an International Rescue, or whatever?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“I think there is. I think there are infinite universes, each with something different in them, with infinite Alans and Brandons, all with their different lives.”

Brandon had just smiled, because only Alan would ever think to say something like that. 

Meanwhile, in another universe... 

It was cold, snow piled high along the edges of the sidewalk and the sky had been heavy with the threat of more for the past week. It was one of those long, dark winters that made people want to hibernate, to stay inside with blankets and hot chocolate and fluffy socks. People didn’t, of course, because life didn’t stop just because it was a harsh winter, but that didn’t meant that there weren’t appreciative smiles when people stepped inside and into warmth, shedding coats, hats, scarves and gloves like they were a second skin, stamping on the doormat to shake off the snow from boots and blowing on frozen fingertips.

That hustle and bustle wasn’t present this morning, though. The city was sleepy and still, the late rising sun staining the sky with a fiery orange, a spot of bright vibrancy in the otherwise stark weather. It didn’t matter, though, how beautiful the orange was, because those who were up to see it were already focused on other things, on family and sugar and laughter. In a tiny, cramped apartment with dodgy radiators and plants spilling across the countertops, buttery yellow curtains at the window and a blue sofa that seemed too big for the space it had been squeezed into, a young couple were smiling, the radio playing softly in the background whilst one of them tried to cook and the other instructed from the kitchen table, a plaster clad leg propped up on a stool and pile of cushions.

“Are you sure that’s right? It looks like a mess,” Alan said, frowning at the bowl in front of him. Brandon rolled his eyes, shifting a little in his seat.

“Yes.”

“But it doesn’t look like cookie dough.”

“That’s because you haven’t added the flour yet.”

“It looks like shit.”

“Alan,” said Brandon, aiming for stern but missing when he wasn’t able to completely hide his grin. “It’s supposed to look like that. That’s what happens when you add the wet ingredients and dry ingredients together separately.”

“Are you sure though? You’ve seen my grandma’s cooking, the stories of food poisoning were not exaggerated, and I really really don’t want to find out that I managed to inherit those genes on Christmas Day. We’ve spent enough time in the emergency room for this month.”

The tone was light and teasing, but Brandon could see the worry that still flashed through Alan’s eyes at the memory of the snowboarding accident, the way his hand tightened ever so slightly around the mixing spoon, and Brnadon wished he could stand and cross the small kitchen, wished he could kiss away all of his eyes boyfriend’s stress and bad memories. Instead, he went for a wry half smile, flicking a stray chocolate chip from the small pile given to him by Alan when he had pouted over not being able to steal any.

“Hey,” Brandon said, trying to lift the atmosphere that was starting to settle. “I’m okay. And I know how to make cookies, and I trust you. Don’t stress, okay?”

“...Okay,” Alan agreed, giving Brandon a small, tentative smile. Brandon huffed.

“Alan, it’s fine.” He reached across the table, only just managing to brush the very end of his fingertips across Alan’s soft hoodie, but Alan got the message, moving around the table and bending down so Brandon could give him a small, reassuring kiss. “Just chill, yeah? It’s Christmas. And you promised me cookies for breakfast and I plan on holding you to that, so better get baking.”

“So demanding,” Alan teased, still leaning over Brandon.

“You love it.”

“I do.” He gave Brandon one last, sweet, kiss before straightening back up and returning to the kitchen counter. “Right then. Flour.”

“Yep. All purpose, one cup.” Brandon sat back, crunching on another chocolate chip and trying (and failing) not to laugh when Alan dumped a cup of flour into the mixture with a heavy hand and caused a white cloud to puff up into his face.

***

Later, when the sun had finally risen properly and the air outside was light, bright and clear, despite the freezing temperatures such weather brought with it, Alan and Brandon were tucked side by side on the blue sofa, sharing one of the many blankets Gordon had gifted Alan with when Alan had first moved to Colorado. Alan had protested at the time, but Gordon had pointed out that LA was different to Denver, and Alan would thank him later. Alan had rolled his eyes petulantly and hadn’t, in fact, thanked him, but he could at least appreciate the usefulness of them, even if they were a particularly ugly shade of yellow that didn’t match their curtains and only Gordon and Brandon seemed to like.

It may be ugly (in Alan’s opinion, not that he was famed for his interior design skills), but it’s soft and warm and, most importantly, big enough to cover the two of them, Alan tucked into Brandon’s side whilst Brandon sat diagonally in the corner seat, broken leg stretched out and propped up on a stack of Alan’s old textbooks, softened by one of the cushions taken from the sofa. There was an untouched plate of cookies on Brandon’s lap and a cheesy Christmas film that was playing on the television in the background, going mostly ignored. It was soft and sweet and domestic in the living room that was barely bigger than the kitchen, if two separate rooms could even be made distinct given that it was a large bookshelf that marked a divide, full of books, trinkets and photographs, rather than an actual wall.

“...are you going to try one?” Alan asked eventually, breaking the comfortable quiet. Brandon’s eyebrow raised, but he lifted a cookie to his mouth, taking a large bite and not breaking his gaze on Alan. Alan could feel himself blush, waiting with baited breath as Brandon chewed swallowed, eventually ducking his head into Brandon’s shoulder. Alan could still feel his eyes burning into him as the silence stretched. “Well? And stop looking at me like that, you’re making me nervous.”

“Well…”

“Oh God. I've poisoned you, haven't I? They’re awful. We should’ve just stuck to cereal, and now I’ll have to write your eulogy where I explain to everyone that it was my lack of baking skills that killed you-”

“Alan. Shut up. They’re good.”

“...what?”

“They’re good.” He shifted, dislodging Alan enough so that he could kiss him softly, the taste of chocolate chips and sugar on his lips. “Thank you, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, Brandon,” Alan mumbled into the kiss, not willing to pull away. He could feel Brandon’s lips pull up into a smile against his own.

“Merry Christmas. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Meanwhile, in another universe…

Brandon had always, always, associated Christmas with snow. As a child, his family had always jetted off to spend Christmas abroad in some picturesque, aesthetically pleasing place with the backdrop of snow and pine needles, choosing to spend the Christmas holiday in a bed not their own and paint the picture of a happy, perfect family that had made Brandon want to scream when he was old enough to understand the hypocrisy of it all. It hadn't been any better as Brandon got older and he was shipped off to work for his godfather in a bid to curb some of his wild tendencies. It hadn’t really worked, of course, because Lemaire was just as wild as Brandon in his projects, albeit with the benefit of dressing it up as a need to explore, rather than to satisfy his own endless curiosity and need for adrenaline, but at least now Brandon had a better understanding of the importance of a carefully curated public persona, why aesthetic shots of dreamy wooden chalets to paint a false image was important. 

Still. Just because he could now appreciate his family’s motivations, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to jump at the chance to spend Christmas with Alan, when the idea was first proposed, complete with shy blushes and a hopeful, tentative smile. Brandon had simply kissed Alan, hard, and given his now breathless boyfriend the biggest smile possible that told him just how excellent an idea that was.

Brandon was supposed to have arrived on the twenty-second of December, enough time to acclimatise to the Island and meet everyone before the main festivities began, but this got pushed back to the twenty-third and then again to the twenty-fourth, when a bright pink car pulled up outside his apartment and a person who was decidedly not Alan stepped out, a small pug in a seasonal red jumper held securely under one arm whilst the other was outstretched for Brandon to shake the perfectly manicured hand. 

“Brandon? Alan is terribly sorry, he was desperately keen to come and get you himself but unfortunately rescues have held all of them up and you’ve just been stuck with me. I do hope you don’t mind. I’m Penelope Creighton-Ward.”

“It’s fine,” Brandon assured, finally able to place a face to Gordon’s girlfriend that Alan had mentioned once or twice before. He ducked quickly into his hallway to pick up his bags and followed Penelope to the car. 

The flight to the Island was pleasant enough, Penelope making polite conversation as they crossed the ocean, but Brandon was feeling increasingly impatient, a feeling that didn’t dissipate until they had landed and he was finally, finally, back in Alan’s arms. Luckily, only Gordon and Alan were around and it was easy to sneak back to Alan’s bedroom to exchange kisses and private smiles, drinking in each other’s presence now that they were together again.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come and get you,” Alan said eventually, cuddled up into Brandon’s side and struggling to keep his eyes open. “Stupid space pirate ghosts.”

The hand that Brandon was using to card through Alan’s hair stilled, and he looked down at him in confusion, Alan’s soft hair tickling his nose. “The… what?”

“Space pirate ghosts,” Alan repeated, mumbling through a yawn. “Met them before but they’re so annoying.”

“If you say so.”

“They are, you’re lucky you haven’t met them. They just cause so many problems and steal my astro-boards all the time. So annoying.”

“Space pirate ghosts?”

“Yes. Or space ghost pirates if you prefer.”

“I think you need to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm,” Alan agreed. It wasn’t a tacit agreement, but Alan’s breaths started to even out and Brandon had resumed the gentle strokes through his hair. It wasn’t long before the two of them were sound asleep, tangled and pressed close together as the sun began to rise on Christmas Day.

Meanwhile, in another universe… 

Everything was beautiful. It was beautiful and perfect and tasteful, from the canapés and trays of drinks being carried unobtrusively around the edges of the room to the elegant decoration of holly and pine, a great Christmas tree standing at the opposite end to the hall where the band was playing, soft white lights twinkling from where they had been wrapped around the branches and catching on the red and gold glass baubles and causing them to shine in bright spots of colour that culminated in a great, golden sunburst of a star at the top of the tree. The music was loud enough to cover people’s conversations and provide a semblance of privacy, but not too loud that the guests had to shout at each other, playing a wide range of popular carols and songs that had prompted enough people to take to the dance floor that it was now quite full.

None of that mattered to Brandon, however. Nothing mattered at all, hadn’t mattered the moment the Tracy family had stepped through the great doors in full force, all decked out in their smart suits and commanding attention without even trying. Lady Penelope had glided forward in full hostess mood, greeting Jeff Tracy first with a kiss to each cheek and a musical laugh to whatever comment he made to her, before turning to each of the brothers and welcoming them each with a kiss of their own, leaving Gordon until last and breaking the pattern with a swift kiss to the lips. Brandon watched as Gordon had beamed, his entire person brightening up even more, brighter than the sun, and Brandon had to squash the pang of longing and jealousy forcefully. It wasn’t fair to indulge in those feelings. He and Alan had talked about it, had agreed to keep things just between them for now whilst things were so new and Alan still hadn’t, actually, come out to his family, and it was fine. Brandon loved Alan more than anything and wouldn’t ask anything from Alan that would make him uncomfortable, wouldn’t even think to ask.

Still, watching as Gordon pressed a kiss to Penelope’s hand and guided her onto the dance floor to spin her around in time to the music, Brandon couldn’t help the small part of him that wished that one day, he’d be able to scoop Alan up and sway with him on the dance floor as well.

***

It didn’t take long for Alan to find him, or for him to find Alan, or for the two of them to gravitate together because really, they were like magnets in the way they managed to always seek each other out at gatherings like these. One of the advantages of being related to rich, powerful families was that they were often at gatherings for rich, powerful people and it was perfectly natural that a friendship would have sprung up between the two of them, providing a perfect cover story for their meet-ups. Even still, when they did inevitably find each other that evening, it was in a secluded doorway that seemed to be mostly hidden from the rest of the room, a door almost hidden by a heavy velvet curtain that Brandon was currently standing behind as he pressed Alan into the door frame, their lips sliding urgently over each other as hands gripped at suit jackets.

“Wait,” Alan gasped breathlessly, pulling back to gaze heavy lidded at Brandon. His lips were pink and puffy, and Brandon couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss them once, twice, three times more. Alan’s hands moved from where he was pulling Brandon’s hips closer to cup his cheeks instead, stopping Brandon from being able to distract him further. “I have something to tell you.”

“Can it wait?” asked Brandon, his question more of a plea.

“It’s important.”

“Alan…”

“I came out to my dad.”

That pulled Brandon up short, stopped him from trying to drop kisses down Alan’s neck, choosing to look Alan in the eye instead as he tried to gauge Alan’s feelings towards coming out to his dad.

“You did?”

“Yeah. I um… I told him that I had a boyfriend. I didn’t say it was you, because I know we agreed to go slow for now and not tell a whole bunch of people and I wanted to talk to you first before Dad knows, but yeah. He was okay about it and now he knows. He knows I like guys. Or I guess a guy. A specific guy. You-“

Brandon cut Alan’s nervous rambling off with a searing kiss, trying to pour as much love and support as possible into it until his brain managed to come up with adequate words to say. The moan Alan rewarded him with indicated Brandon’s success.

“I love you, so much. I’m so proud of you,” Brandon said when they finally pulled apart, thumb brushing the nape of Alan’s neck and arms resting on his shoulders. Alan’s face split into the widest grin.

“I love you too.”

“Are you staying the night?” Brandon asked, already tipping forward for another kiss, pushing Alan further back into the wall. 

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re amazing, hot as hell and we’ve been kissing for a while now and I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go back out with all those fancy people including our families.”

“...fuck.”

“My point exactly.”

“Follow me, I know a shortcut.” 

Alan took one of Brandon’s hands, lacing their fingers together, and fumbled for the door behind them. Just as he was tugging Brandon through it, Brandon reached up and snagged the branch of mistletoe that was hanging unobtrusively above it, winking at Alan’s questioning look.

“For later,” he promised, and tried not to laugh as Alan started pulling him through the manor at a quicker pace.

Meanwhile, in this universe…

Brandon stifled a smile when he saw Alan yawn for the fifth time, easily making the calculations that were by now second nature when trying to determine the time zones and working out that it had now gone midnight for Alan and that Alan really needed to sleep. The conversation had drifted and meandered along, as it was prone to do when the two of them were talking, but Brandon couldn’t stop thinking about what Alan had said earlier, about the different universes with the different Alans and Brandons.

“Hey, Alan,” he said, and Alan blinked at him sleepily, already curled on his side with one arm tucked under his pillow.

“Hmm?”

“I think you’re right. About the different universes.”

“Of course. I’m super smart,” he bragged, and Brandon rolled his eyes, the move tempered by his huffed laugh.

“I know baby. But I think, even with all those different universes, there isn’t a single one where we don’t find each other.”

“No?”

“No. I think in every one we’re together, and that we’re happy.”

“I’m happy in this one. With you.”

“I know. And I’ll be with you tomorrow. Well. My tomorrow.”

“I know. I love you, Brandon.

“I love you too. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“See you at Christmas.”

[coykoii]

fluff you say1!!! 8 xxxxxxx

santa tell me by ariana grande

“Santa, tell me if he really cares

'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here

Next year.”

~~~

don’t make me fall in love again (if you won’t be here)

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Michelle casts a brief glance at her mother and nods, a small smile on her face. She can’t help but agree, knowing that New York during the winter—especially during Christmas time—is a sight. The lights, the snow, the trees, it’s all very festive to go with the most wonderful time of the year.

Most wonderful time of the year.

The sentiment is almost funny in a bitter, slightly mocking way, Michelle knowing that she isn’t feeling the same holiday spirit as she had previous years, and for good reason.

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” Michelle says, averting her eyes and crossing her arms as she slinks further back into their apartment. Their portable fireplace is burning and their tree lights are on, but it’s far from warm and bright inside.

“Michelle,” her mother replies, and her tone is gentle yet pitying. “I know everything has been a bit hard, especially lately. Christmas was your guys’ holiday, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she responds, rolling her shoulders to try to ease the tension. “I’m okay, honestly, but you should go out. I know you said you had this reservation with your friends tonight.”

“Honey…I’m not going to leave you alone on Christmas Eve.”

Michelle manages an all too brittle laugh, feeling a growing pit in her stomach as she says, “No, really, it’s fine. You guys have had this planned months in advance, way before…before everything happened. Go out and enjoy it.”

It’s hard, knowing she wants her mother to have a good evening despite not being able to have one herself, hard having to celebrate the holidays without all of your loved ones. The memories of their past years together are much too painful to think about right now, let alone to leave the house with.

“Only if you’re sure, Michelle…”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure. Go out. Have a nice time,” Michelle assures her with a shake of her head. “Please.”

Her mother gives her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, saying, “I know it’s been a difficult year for you, ‘Chelle, and I’m so sorry. But, I’m sure this next one will be much better. I’ll make sure of that.”

Michelle nods, blinking around tears that have sprung out of nowhere, and tries to ignore the fact that this is the first Christmas in years that they’re not celebrating together—that she’ll be baking cookies and watching holiday movies and falling asleep this evening alone.

Christmas really was their holiday.

“Have a good Christmas Eve, Mom,” Michelle tells her, swallowing thickly before retreating back to the living room, a cup of eggnog in hand. She falls back on the couch, wrapping a blanket around herself despite the raging fire.

Being alone in the apartment is something that she’s used to, but never on this day of the year, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.

Michelle rests her head back against the couch, her gaze tracing the shadows that dance across the ceiling. She closes her eyes, silently wishing she could go back and prevent the dominos from toppling, the events that had them into this situation.

As time passes, the apartment grows colder and the fire begins to die out, Michelle feels a chill in the air. She breathes out a breath of frustration and cracks an eye open, the light only getting dimmer.

It’s at that point she notices the apartment window is cracked open.

Cautiously, Michelle places her mug down and approaches the window, a blanket still wrapped around her. It’s snowing and windy, the Christmas lights decorated around the city the only thing visible for a second.

And then, well, a hand comes up against the glass, and all she can do is exhale sharply.

“Michelle,” his voice calls out softly, and she immediately drops the blanket in haste to push the window open further. “Em.”

“Oh, my god. What are you—why are you here?” Michelle asks, feeling her hands shake ever so slightly as he sits on the other side of the wall. She can’t see his face, not with that stupid mask on, but even just hearing his voice has sent her heart into overdrive. “Peter?”

“I couldn’t just break tradition,” Peter tells her and with a watery laugh, he pulls his mask off. Maybe he looks a little older, a little sadder, but there’s nothing about him she doesn’t recognize. “Tell me you didn’t bake anything without me.”

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” she whispers, yet pulls him through the window anyway so that they’re standing face-to-face. “You’re supposed to be in hiding.”

“And yet, you found me stuck outside your window,” he responds with a small smile. “Nothing much has changed, really. A Christmas miracle?”

“You managing to get here without being caught is a Christmas miracle in itself.”

“Man, your faith in me has really dwindled, huh?” Peter jokes, placing a hand over his heart, over her. Fingers tracing down her cheek, it doesn’t take long for him to pull her into his arms.

Michelle squeezes her eyes closed, his hold firm on her, and she manages the words, “Missed you,” against the crook of his neck.

“I missed you, too,” he mutters, voice muffled by her hair. “Enough that I don’t really care if I get in trouble for being here.”

“Pretty irresponsible of you.”

“I’m only irresponsible for you,” Peter teases, pulling back just enough to see her face. She lets him tuck a curl behind her ear, lets him brush his lips against her cheek, her forehead, her nose.

“Why don’t you commit, dork?” Michelle asks, and he smirks slightly, pulling something off the fireplace mantle, dangling it above their heads.

“Just waiting for the right moment, Em.” He holds the mistletoe with the same delicacy he has for her, and she tilts her face down ever so slightly, lips meeting in the middle. It warms her up more than any fire could.

“Love you,” she utters when they break, and his expression softens into something that makes Michelle feel like him being here really is her gift.

“I love you, too. I’m sorry that I haven’t come to visit sooner, but trust me when I say I really wanted to.”

“No, it’s okay. I know. When...when are you going to have to go back?” Michelle asks, despite not wanting to know the answer, but he merely smiles at her.

“Fury’s gonna have to pry me from your arms.”

“I’ll have you know, I've got a really strong grip.”

“We have movies to watch and cookies to bake, Em. Can’t break our streak now. Fury can wait until after we spend Christmas together,” he tells her, serious, and she has to breathe out a laugh, the lights of the tree sparkling behind him.

“It is tradition.”