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princessmariaphiliper · 6 months

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‘Wintering’ Part 1

Wintering (especially of a bird) Spend the winter in a particular place.

Where Arthur and Merlin meet, again, and again, and again. Until eventually- they fall for one another.

Monday, December 4th

Winter sun shone down through branches of the trees. Ones autumn had turned skeletal and summer considered a stranger. Merlin trudged down the riverside, hands gloved and pocketed, safe from the bite of cold that coloured his cheeks.

The first frost had come that evening, crystallizing the whole city. From blades of grass throughout gardens to the delicate cobwebs along fences. Capturing the night. The coal-haired boy moved quickly downstream. The walk between here and work wasn’t long, about twenty-five minutes give or take. But he felt as though the chill was consuming him.

Deep to the bone by now.

Thrilled when he finally reached the Churchyard. Merlin took in the sight of the monolith. Tall, frosted, and holy.

This building was everything. With its stone dusted with age, to its captivating bell tower. He loved this place more than anywhere in the world.

Merlin had given his blood sweat and literal tears to keep this place alive. It had nearly killed him in the process. Sleepless nights fawning over books and papers.

From the first time he had seen this place, it had ached in his soul. During his late childhood, his mother had brought him on a trip to York. To explore the festive markets, historical streets, and christmas shops.

It was around midday, winter sun high in the sky. Between the bustling crowd of holidayers, the gate of the grounds had called him in. Dark green paint on steel bars. A glowing light illuminated his pathway. Eager - he’d tugged upon the sleeve of his mother. Waddling through the gate to get a better view.

And by God it had been.

The little boy stood looking upon the church. Feet in parallel, blue orbs like wishing wells pooling up at the building.

He’d marveled at the building for so long his mother had had to break his stare with a promise of hot chocolate. After jesting that he’d have a crane in his neck come morning.

As he grew his fascination did beside him. And the memory of the beautiful building lingered.

Merlin began to dedicate his life to preserving wonderful places. Studying Historical conservation to a masters degree, before moving to York. After years of searching, he found the church. One that a part of him was convinced he’d dreamt up as a child.

When he was reunited he felt unmoved as the first time he’d seen her.

It was spring then. A few years back. The light shone down on the building, and flowers bloomed underneath the stained glass. Birds had called as they always did in the spring, air smelling of leftover rain in the honeysuckle. Path shining from the recent fall. Merlin felt at home.

He’d met Gwenevire along the way. Who he grew closer with as he studied the building inside and out. Finally dedicating his PHD to conserving the beautiful church.

Gwen had run the choir ever since Merlin had known her.

She had a good heart. Merlin had told her to hold onto that - she’d told him to do the same.

So it made sense that he never had the heart to tell her that the actual religious side of things didn’t really resonate with him on any more than on a superficiall level.

Thus, when Gwenavire had come flustered to him, explaining how the church pianist was moving away come autumn. Upset with the thought of having to go without a carol concert this year; Merlin couldn’t not volunteer to help out.

Unable to live with telling her no. He did what any kind soul would do in his position -

He lied and said he’d love to join the parish.

It wasn’t all bad. In face, the more time Merlin had dedicated to the choir the less it felt like a lie.

That’s how he’d ended up here. Handing out sheets of carols, printed on A4 papers, and humming along with Gwen on an early December evening. Enjoying the peace of one anothers company waiting for the rest of the group to arrive.

Looking up at the medival stone arches and stained glass depictions of saintly men and women.

Their peace however was soon enough disturbed with a voice echoing around the church walls.

“And this is the nave, where the ceremony will be held” The priest directed, as himself and three people Merlin had never seen before entered the room.

One, a tall man. With long dark hair and a beard, hazel eyes and a kind looking face. Was dressed in an oversized denim jacket and a thick woolen scarf wrapped tight around his neck. A woman stuck, glued, against his side. Arm interlinked with him. Her hair wavy and dark like the mans. A matching scarf around her neck, tossed over her shoulders out of the way. She wore a deep red beret atop her head to match her scarf.

Her eyes glistened like candles in the low light of the nave. Shining a bright blue. Her coat was long, faux fur and nearly hitting her mid calf. She was ridiculously glamorous, smiling like a fool as the man on her arm reached up to squeeze the back of her hand.

They looked full of love.

The other man however, looked miserable. A bored look on his face underneath a head of short blonde hair. He stood out against the others, sporting no coat, scarf, or any other winter attire Merlin considered appropriate for the chill outside. He merely wore a plain suit, void of colour or character. Merlin could sense his coldness as he entered the room, a small tremble crossing the blonde mans body.

The man was attractive, his good looks making up for the lack of personality in his clothing. There was a boyish look about him, but paired with broad shoulders and a well defined jaw it made him somewhat striking-

Merlin made himself busy, realising he was staring.

“What of the roof?”

“Pardon?”

“When is the roof being fixed?” The blonde haired man spoke abnauxiously. Pointing lazily towards where the group of them had just walked from.

“The building is old, it would take time to fix the roof. And funds the parish don’t have at this time sir.”

“I can cover the funds.”

Merlin’s eyes snapped up to stare at the group once more. Now stationary in the church isle. Up close the man speaking was only more lovely to look at. It was a shame he kept opening his mouth. Merlin might have liked him had he not.

“Arthur, we cannot allow you to do that.” The woman spoke.

“Morgana, I will not have you get married in a building where the rain is coming through. You have your heart set on this place do you not?”

“Well yes but-”

“Then its settled. I’ll have a team come in over christmas. Consider it as a donation to the church.”

Merlin looked over at Gwen, who was taking no shame in listening to the conversation playing out before them. Gwen’s character broke, he knew instantly why. Should there be a team of builders in the church over christmas they wouldn’t be able to go ahead with the christmas concert. They’d been practicing for weeks now. And Gweneveres heart had broken twice now over it.

There was no way he would alow all their progress to be stunted over a hole in the roof. Not at this time of year, he wouldn’t let that happen to Gwen. Especially not to allow some cowboy builders into distroy the first place he had fallen in love with.

Something inside Merlin bubbled. Compelling him to speak

“Thats not possible.”

All eyes were suddenly upon him. He would have felt embarrassed had he not been so passionate.

“Why not?”

“That will close the church for the majority of December. We have festivities to run, its our busiest time of year.”

“I will not have my sister shiver in her wedding dress.”

“Then you cannot get married here.”

A silence swelled. All accompanying parties stunned into an awkwardness from Merlins boldness. Arthur looked at the man for the longest time, turning his whole body to face Merlin. Raising an eyebrow he continued the bickering.

“I’d think the church will take into account what’s more profitable for them, given the circumstances” He said with a coldness, not humouring Merlins last statement. “Are we forgetting that there’s bloody holes in the roof?”

“This is a listed building” Merlin qickened back

“Who’s said that”

“I did.”

“Did you now?” Arthurs eyes rolled “And who are you - a simple choir boy?”

Finally he dropped his wad of paper atop the pew beside him. Making his way down the isle to meet them. Stopping inches away from Arthur, who puffed his chest out with dominance.

“I’m Doctor Merlin Emerson, chairman of the British History Association, and If I say you can’t get married here you can’t get married here.” He near enough whispered, compelling the other to head his every word.

For a moment in time no one in the room seemed to breathe. Merlin awaited some kind of response. Arthurs nostrils flared in anger. Merlin was satisfied with having somewhat of a social upperhand. Shifting his bodyweight to one hip, folding his arms in the process.

Up close he could see the near flawlessness of Arthurs skin, a pale stubble lay against his chin and upper lip. Blue eyes that matched Merlins own were slightly clouded by blond hair falling against his brow. Staring daggers into him. Merlin held the gaze. Stubborn as the winter night, they could clear out streets with their silence.

“Aurthur it’s fine just leave it.” The woman, Morgana, broke into the pause. Ready for morning to rise again. “It’s not even your wedding, we can find another venue”

“No no Morgana, I don’t think it’s about the building now. I think Merlin here has taken things a little too personal.” Arthur smirked, Merlin wanted to punch him.

“Prat.” He spat out.

“Pardon?”

“Excuse me, Merlin you are in church might I remind you.” David, the preist, chimed in.

“Forgive me father, but that doesn’t change the fact that god made him a prat.”

Arthur actually snorted. Drawing back his head and placing his large hands upon his own hips. Fixing his posture.

“Laugh all you want that’s simply making me even more annoyed with you.”

“You cant withhold someone from holding a ceremony on personal grounds.”

“Actually I can.”

“I’d like to see that in writing,”

“Don’t worry - you will.” Merlin jabbed, the blonde already turned away from him. Walking towards the front exit.

“Morgana, Andrew, forgive me” He spoke patiently, refusing to look at Merlin. Presumably to get more of a rise out of him. “I think I’ll get going, send me pictures across to the group chat. And David, please do consider my offer - I’d like to be of service any way I can.”

He turned back to look at Gwen and Merlin momentarily.

“What was your name sorry?” Arthur looked at Gwen.

She looked shocked for a moment before uttering her name towards him.

“Lovely to meet you Gwenavire.” He kept his eyes on her before turning to the raven haired boy speaking as he began to walk off. “Merlin.”

“Tosser.”

Merlin watched his fist flex as he walked down the isle. He stopped momentarily. Took a deep breath, and walked away.

Tuesday December 5th

Merlin sat in his usual place down the local. Surrounded by his best people. Gwen was his second in command. Taking her rightful place on the plush seating beside him. Dressed in a festive red turtle neck and black velvet trousers - that she’d taken pride to communicate were ‘M&S! Only thirty quid!’.

The group had decided to kick off the start of Christmas at the pub characteristically titled The Fox. It was one of Merlin’s most favourite spots in the city.

Off the beaten track, second to the golden ball (that had wallpaper from the Victorian era that nearly made Merlin have a heart attack the first time he had been told)

It was their usual cohort of people, minus a few main characters. Gwen, as previously mentioned, sat to his left. Beside her were Zeren and Leon, huddled together and chatting excitedly over their drinks. To his right found Gwaine and his partner Isobel, with Rosie and Lance on the remaining seats across from Merlin.

The Fox was a cosy astaishment. With painting, drawings and stained glass depictions of foxes scattered about the place. Their favourite spot, where they’d taken up camp for the night sat beside the fire, that roared the same colour as the walls and smelt of the festive season. There were tables scattered across the multiple nooks in the building. Each one pushed up against plush leather benches and miniature wooden bar stools.

That day Merlin had spent working in the archives, slumped over documents that looked as though they had been written in a different language and hurt his posture.

He was more than thrilled when Rosie had texted the group chat in the afternoon begging for friend time. He’d begged for a seat along the booth, claiming he was too miserable to be on a stool.

Like Rosie - he nested a mulled wine between his palms. Willing the Christmas spirit to take ahold of him in the early December evening. One with all the trimmings, orange slices and cinnamon swimming around in the glass.

Glad for the fire and hot beverage to warm the chill that lingered on his clothes after trudging his way through the snow.

Upon arrival he’d shed his winter layers, coal colour coat that matched his hair. And plum scarf he wore each winter. To reveal a simple brown shirt that exposed the skin of his neck, purple corduroy trousers to match his scarf and forest green adidas.

He watched for a while as his friends chatted excitedly. Smiling like an idiot when Lance spilt his Guinness, and apologised profusely to Rosie; who ended up nearly covered in it, but laughed off the mishap. He’d always admired her patience.

Patience he apparently didn’t have when it came to entitled arseholes who threw money about to get their way. This was another reason for Merlin’s miserable day. As - upon further investigation it turned out he didn’t actually have the right to deny the ceremony. Or even Arthur’s funding which was arguably the more humbling part. He’d spent hours seething, trying to find loopholes. Unable to take the hit on his ego should he cross paths with him again.

In the end he’d settled on a compromise.

Sure he couldn’t deny the ceremonial rights or the acceptance of Arthur’s funding for the roof. But Arthur didn’t have to know that. He’d overheard their second names in passing, and after a quick google search located his workplace. He was planning on sending over a strongly worded (hand written) letter on all the reasons why he wasn’t allowed a ceremony at the church.

His church. That he’d spent years maintaining to keep its history alive. He’d be damned if he let a blonde know it all swoop in and possibly damage his most beloved place.

Chatter fluttered on, topics shifting here or there. Never settling on one for too long. Naturally came work and routines. And Gwen had started on how her and Merlin’s peace had been disrupted the previous night.

The table listened with enthralment.

All eager to spice up their Tuesdays with a bit of drama.

“God Merlin didn’t know you had such a mean streak in you.” Rosie said through a laugh.

“I wasnt being mean”

“Sounds like you were.” Zeren added.

“Trust me if you’d met Arthur you’d know I wasn’t being a dick for no reason”

“This true Gwen?”

Gwen hesitated before she spoke. Always seeing the good in people “He was a bit of an arse, I don’t think there was any need for him to speak to Merlin the way he did”

“See!”

“Although you did call him a prat first.”

“He rolled his eyes at me.”

“I think you imagined that.”

“Whatever”

“So can you do that to him then?” Leon asked, seemingly on behalf of the group.

“What?” Merlin replied quickly, taking a sip of his wine.

“Deny the ceremony?”

Merlin groaned, annoyed.

“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to work out the legal side of things“

“There’s no way you could actually deny someone a wedding ceremony right?”

“Probably not” Merlin stated “- it’d be a shame to deny it to Morgana and Andrew anyways. After Aurthur left I stayed to help Gwen clear up and they seemed lovely. Its a shame they have such a dollop-head of a brother.”

“Not your best insult pal,” Gwaine deadpanned over his pint from beside him. Smirking as he sipped.

“Long day. Anyways, I found some more info on him so, I might just send him a denial letter to fuck with his head.”

“Is that not stalking Merlin?”

“I’ve never met someone who oosed as much entitlement- trust me he deserves a little wake up call.”

“Fair enough, don’t take things too far.”

“I never do!”

The conversation lulled naturally, all of them taking either a moment to excuse themselves for the bathroom / bar or make headway on their drinks. The room was captivated again when Gwen spoke with a matter of fact tone.

“He was hot.“ she said, the group laughing at her deadpan delivery.

“Gwen, come on now.”

“What!”

“Your standards are low,”

“And yours aren’t?”

Merlin paused to think. She wasn’t wrong.

Arthur may be a twat but he was fairly attractive. It was one of the initial things Merlin thought about him before he opened his massive gob.

“No, smash to be fair.“ he agreed,

“I knew you fancied him.”

“You weren’t even there Gwaine”

“I can tell by the way you’re talking about him.”

“Yeah and you could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

“We were in a church gwenevere thats blasphemy.”

“He was such a smash.” She said, going back to her glass of wine.

Merlin was happy when the conversation shifted to something a little less Arthur centric.

Wednesday December 6th

Mr Arthur Pendragon,

I’m writing in behalf of the Holy Trinity Church

As it has been passed on to me for a final verdict.

I am unfortunately unable to grant the permission of Morgana Pendragon and Andrew Byrne union via wedding ceremony, scheduled the coming May.

On the grounds of you being up your own arse.

Should you consider removing the stick from where it is currently situated I would encourage you to do so. This may help us come to some better arrangement for you.

Any questions please do hesitate to get in touch.

Regards,

Dr. Emerson

British History Association

xxx

Thursday December 7th

They see one another in passing for days.

The next time Merlin was nursing a cigarette between his lips. A poor habit he’d picked up during his PHD. Stood beside the front entrance of the church waiting for Gwen's arrival. Prior to rehearsal.

He looked up at the sky on an inhale.

Gentle snow was falling upon any surface that would hold it. It had been snowing for days now, forcing glee from Merlin. So long since he’d see a white winter.

He felt this Christmas would be a memorable one, especially being part of the church festivities for the first time since he was a child. He felt warmth in his body.

Alas, it was a warmth that didn’t fight the freezing cold of December snow.

Merlin adjusted his scarf to cover frostbitten ears. He needed to find his forgotten hat.

Merlin’s peace was short lived, disturbed by a certain blonde exiting the place of worship.

Dressed in a full suit and tie once again, hair slightly ruffled from what Merlin assumed was a long day. Fumbling his cold hand against a mobile screen for signal.

Merlin sighed loudly, capturing Arthur’s attention for a moment. Before he felt his eyes rolling on their own.

“Oh it’s you” he said, going back to look at his phone. Arthur didn’t have the patience today. Empty of rest and Christmas cheer.

“Didn’t think you’d be back” Merlin spoke flatly, after a quick draw on his cigarette. Throat void of passion.

“Yes, very funny letter Merlin. Faking legal documents could get you sacked you know.”

“What are you a lawyer?”

Arthur looked up, pulling his phone to his ear in some desperate attempt of making the call to his client go through.

To no avail, his attention suddenly on Merlin again. And just as Merlin had a few days prior, It was his turn to pull a power trip.

“Yes, I am actually”

“Should have guessed” Merlin snorted back quickly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look like a stuck up twat.”

“And why’s that?”

“Full suit on a Thursday evening? Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

“Shut up Merlin, just because you’re clearly frightened of businesswear. Sorry I don’t dress as a peasant like you do.” Arthur snapped back, frustrated, tired.

“I dress for the weather, and as though I’m going to sit in a freezing cold church for an hour. And by the way - that was such a Tory statement I didn’t think you could be anymore of a twat.”

“Was that just you complaining about the cold in your precious listed building? Maybe if you sorted out the hole in the roof you wouldn’t be so cold. And -You’ve used that insult already today.”

“Sorry, let me just call up my mate Steve to have them double glaze the stained glass windows while I’m at it shall I?”

Merlin watches as Gwens car pulls up beside his own in the churchyard. Dressed in some brown corduroy trousers and an overly glitzy Christmas Jumper she got out. Making her way over to the front entrance. Upon her arrival Arthur missed the knowing smile plastered across Gwens face. Mistaking it for politeness.

Arthur also missed Merlin mouth the phrase ‘fuck off’ at her attempt of calling back to their conversation at The Fox. He just looked irritated to the blonde as Aurthur uttered the words-

“God you’ve got a come back for everything don’t you.”

“Yes.” Merlin backchatted quickly, directing his attention to greet Gwen with a smile.

“I do love our chats Arthur.”

Merlin patted Arthur on his shoulder sarcastically as he passed him by. Taking one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground lazily.

He didn’t stomp it out, confident that the snow would deny any fire within it to burn once in contact.

The touch nearly took Arthur out. Warmth of his hand lingering on his shoulder for longer than pride would have him admit.

As Merlin followed Gwen inside the building he could swear he heard Aurthur mumble “Gobshite” under his breath.

The building was only growing colder as December lumbered on.

The wind was more powerful than Merlin had felt in years, as though Jack Frost was angry with the world. And lord Merlin could not fault him.

The first snow had actually come mid November. Heavy by the 3rd and blizzards were due to start in the next coming days. He thought of Aurthur trudging through the snow without gloves - fingers numb and stiff.

It brought him a sick sense of joy.

“What was that all about?” Gwen broke him from his trance.

“Being a cock again.”

Gwen looked over at the raven boy in shock at his statement. Hushing him to silence as they made their way to to the organ, gathering sheet music to lay flat upon the front row of pews.

“Sorry.” Merlin whispered, looking up at Gwenevere, followed by the stained glass above where she stood.

Next Part

Thank you for reading, see you next time xo

#merlin x arthur christmas #merlin christmas fic #merthur christmas #merthur au #modern day au #merlin x arthur #merlin fic #merthur #merlin #bbc merlin

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newstfionline · 9 months

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Monday, September 4, 2023

Trapped in Mud, Burning Man Attendees Are Told to Conserve Food (NYT) Tens of thousands of attendees at the Burning Man festival in a remote stretch of the Black Rock Desert in Nevada were told on Saturday to conserve food, water and fuel after heavy rainfall trapped them in thick mud. The event, which takes place in Black Rock City and began on Sunday, was interrupted by heavy rains on Friday night, and organizers directed attendees to shelter in place as rain poured over the area. Except for emergency services, vehicles have also been prohibited around Black Rock City. Festivalgoers could be trapped for several days, organizers said. Black Rock City is a temporary community that pops up each year in the middle of a vast desert known as “the playa” for Burning Man. The makeshift town hosts more than 60,000 people every year and is a three-hour drive from the nearest airport, which is more than 100 miles away in Reno.

Dinosaur-dressing Mexican senator adds bite to presidential race (Reuters) When Xochitl Galvez lumbered onto the floor of Mexico’s Senate last December dressed in an inflatable green dinosaur suit to protest a ruling party bill, even the flustered leader of the upper house trying to rebuke her could not suppress a smile. The stunt by Galvez, who crashed the rostrum holding a card reading “Jurassic Plan” to criticize legislation from the ruling leftist National Regeneration Movement (MORENA) as retrograde, is one of many that made her famous before she won the 2024 presidential candidacy of the main opposition alliance this week. Her snubs to convention, gift for political theater and ability to connect with voters are traits that echo President Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador, an anti-establishment veteran who was finally elected in 2018.

Why Did a Drug Gang Kill 43 Students? Text Messages Hold Clues. (NYT) It is perhaps Mexico’s most notorious cold case—43 college students shot at by the police, forced into patrol cars, handed over to a drug cartel and never seen again. How could a relatively unknown gang pull off one of the worst atrocities in Mexico’s recent history? A vast trove of about 23,000 unpublished text messages, witness testimony and investigative files obtained by The New York Times point to an answer: Just about every arm of government in that part of southern Mexico had been secretly working for the criminal group for months, putting the machinery of the state in the cartel’s hands and flattening any obstacle that got in its way. The police commanders whose officers snatched many of the students that night in 2014 had been taking direct orders from the drug traffickers, the text messages show. One of the commanders gave guns to cartel members, while another hunted down their rivals on command. The military, which closely monitored the abduction but never came to the students’ aid, had been showered with cartel bribes, too. One lieutenant even armed gunmen connected to the cartel and, a witness said, helped the police try to cover up their role in the crime after the students were kidnapped and killed. The government’s subservience is what made the mass killing of 43 college students possible, investigators say. A coroner also did the cartel’s bidding, sending photos of corpses and evidence at crime scenes, the messages show.

Ecuador says 57 guards and police officers are released after being held hostage in several prisons (AP) Ecuadorian authorities announced Friday the release of 50 guards and seven police officers who were taken hostage for more than a day, in what the government described as a response by criminal groups to its efforts to regain control of several large correctional facilities in the South American country. The country’s corrections system, the National Service for Attention to Persons Deprived of Liberty, said in a statement that the 57 law enforcement officers —who were held in six different prisons—are safe, but it didn’t offer details about how they were released. Early Friday, criminal groups in Ecuador used explosives to damage a bridge, the latest in a series of attacks this week. Nobody was injured in the explosion. Government officials have described the violent acts as the work of criminal gangs with members in prisons responding to efforts by authorities to retake control of several penitentiaries by relocating inmates, seizing weapons and other steps.

How wildfires are threatening the Mediterranean way of life (Washington Post) As flames approached the 19th century Monastery of Panagia Ipseni, the nuns inside steeled themselves. In what seemed like minutes, superheated gyres engulfed the workshop where the sisters labored over icons of Saint Meletios and the Virgin and Child. Smoke filled the monastery’s mosaicked courtyards. The olive orchards and vineyards that provided their livelihood erupted in flames. In a summer of megafires across the northern hemisphere, the Mediterranean region is confronting what from on the ground has seemed an existential threat. A toxic mix of extreme heat and drought, together with human malice or carelessness, has set the region ablaze, costing dozens of lives and untold millions in damage. Wildfires—some record size—have been turning virgin forests into preternatural moonscapes and trigging mass evacuations of developed areas. Fires are threatening cultural heritage, too, in a part of the world known as much for the ruins of ancient civilization as the joys of the modern vacation. Even as summer comes to a close, the fires are still burning. In Sicily, a blaze destroyed the 15th century Santa Maria di Gesù church, turning an ancient wooden statue of the Virgin Mary into a singed log and consuming the 434-year-old remains of St. Benedict the Moor. In Spain’s Canary Islands last month, 26,000 people on Tenerife had to evacuate their homes as fires raged out of control.

A Brutal Path Forward, Village by Village (NYT) The mission for the Ukrainian unit was to take a single house, in a village that is only a speck on the map but was serving as a stronghold for Russian soldiers. Andriy, a veteran marine, had waited for three days with his small assault team as other Ukrainian units crawled through minefields, stormed trenches and cleared a path to the farming village of Urozhaine. Finally, one day last month, the order came to move. They raced to a predetermined location in an armored personnel carrier, and disembarked as explosions and gunfire rattled the ground beneath their feet, Andriy and members of his unit said. Driving out or killing the remaining Russians, they secured the house as night fell. In the morning, the new order came: Take another house. The monthslong campaign to breach heavily fortified Russian lines is being conducted in many domains and in many forms of battle. But the engine driving the effort are hundreds of small-scale assault groups, often just eight to 10 soldiers, each tasked with attacking a single trench, tree line or house. Daily success is measured in yards rather than miles. But dozens of these assaults have been raging daily for weeks and, taken together, they are adding up to gains that Ukraine says will pose increasing problems for overstretched Russian forces.

Typhoon Haikui barrels into Taiwan (Reuters) Domestic flights were cancelled and almost 4,000 people were evacuated as Typhoon Haikui barrelled into southeastern Taiwan on Sunday bringing torrential rain and strong winds. Haikui made landfall in the mountainous and sparsely populated far southeast of Taiwan mid-Sunday afternoon, the first typhoon to directly hit Taiwan in four years. Counties and cities in the region cancelled classes and declared a day off for workers.

More than 150 injured in clash at Eritrean Embassy event in Tel Aviv (Washington Post) More than 150 Eritrean asylum seekers and dozens of police were injured Saturday in Tel Aviv after demonstrations outside an event sponsored by the Eritrean Embassy turned violent, Israeli officials said. The melee was the latest violence to break out at global festivals to celebrate 30 years of Eritrean independence but which have sparked fury among the opponents of longtime Eritrean President Isaias Afwerki, one of the most repressive leaders in the world. Israeli police in riot gear and on horseback struggled to disperse crowds as rioters broke store windows, grappled with officers and smashed vehicle windshields. At least 16 of the protesters suffered serious injuries in the brawl, according to Israeli media. A hospital said it was treating 11 gunshot victims. Police used rubber bullets and stun grenades to quell the violence, and officials advised residents to avoid the area in central Tel Aviv. The Israeli emergency medical service said it was holding a special blood drive at two hospitals in the city to treat the wounded. Most of the Eritreans were refugees and asylum seekers who fled forced conscription and repression in the East African country, which Afwerki has led since its independence from Ethiopia in 1993. Some Afwerki supporters were reportedly at the scene, fighting with government opponents.

#headlines #news

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jakesimfromstatefarm · 3 years

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how to fake date your best friend | jake sim

✰ summary: the rules were simple -

pretend to be the boyfriend of you, his best friend who wants the attention of their crush, for a week and a week only

no kissing (bc gross cooties amirite) allowed, unless needed in times of desperate measure

and no matter what, absolutely, most definitely, do not fall in love.

simple, right?

well apparently not. because news flash––jake's already broken one of the rules.

and to give you a hint, it's neither rule 1 or 2.

✰ pairing: jake sim x y/n [ft. members of enha!]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy | fakingdating!au, highschool!au, bestfriend!au, friends to lovers

✰ warnings: cursing, high-schoolers doing dumb highschool things, underage drinking (pls don’t actually do any of this irl), jake being a certified simp, it’s LONG (i’m so sorry), cheesy kithes bc im a sucker for kithes ( ˘ ³˘)♥

✰ wc: a whopping 9.5k

✰ a/n: it’s finally finished :’)))))) it ended up being much longer than i wanted but i had so much fun writing the characters that i got carried away lolol anywaysss i hope you guys enjoy it,,,i got a little unmotivated during the process bc i didn’t know if it was good or not but here it is heh (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Tuesday, December 8th

Jake Sim lives a simple life.

He likes to think he leads the normal, stereotypical life of a teenage boy. Has decent grades, plays soccer after school, skateboards around the neighborhood, has a best friend who he’s desperately in love with, and has a stable group of friends.

Okay, maybe not so simple, because this boy would physically launch himself to the moon and drill at its surface to collect moon dust for you if you asked him to––despite his deadly fear of combusting in outer space.

But that fear doesn’t even compare to his worst one yet: not having you in his life.

And so, he decided to just repress any and all feelings he’s had for you ever since he discovered them in middle school, when he realized he hated seeing you go to the eighth grade dance with a date––that wasn’t him.

He decided that he wasn’t going to risk losing a life-long friendship over some dumb, teenage boy feelings.

They were probably powered by his testosterone anyways. Yeah, that’s totally it.

He’s totally not in love with you.

So yes, he lives a pretty normal life. Every day is the same as the last, and tomorrow will be the same as today. But he likes it like that––he doesn’t want anything to change.

Especially not now, when he finds himself content with every aspect of his life (okay maybe except for his history grade, god, does he hate history).

So, it catches him off guard when you arrive at the group’s usual lunch table, located outside in your school’s courtyard, looking as excited as ever.

Jake’s the only one at the table so far. The remaining usually showed up late––Heeseung spends his first half of lunch tutoring freshmen for community service hours (but the poor boy has no idea what he’s doing), Sunghoon is probably stuck in line in the cafeteria again (he always forgets to pack his own lunch), and Jay is...well actually, no one ever knows where Jay comes from. He’s a special one.

It catches Jake even more off guard when you skip over any greeting a normal person would give, and start speaking at one hundred words per second.

And that catches us up to the present.

“Y-You want me to what?” Jake’s stuttering as you stare at him with your hopeful eyes from across the lunch table.

Despite the expression planted on your face, which screams your excitement for your “brilliant, amazing, genius, Einstein-could-never” idea (or whatever other words you used to describe it––Jake can’t exactly recall the specific terms you used, they all came out of your mouth too fast), you don’t respond to his question of bafflement. You continue to stare at him, awaiting his response. Jake could compare the look on your face right now to a puppy looking up at its owner, eagerly waiting for a treat. You know, tongue out and all.

He swallows the lump that’s lodged in this throat (is that the sandwich he’s having, or his nerves?) and continues to give you his look of confusion laced with a nervous smile because surely, you’re joking.

You grab what’s left of your sandwich from his hands and take your own bite. Somewhere in between you arriving at the table and now, Jake’s managed to steal the sandwich you brought today. You did make the best chicken sandwiches, in his defense.

“Well? It’s only for the week! And I promise you, after one week, if nothing happens––if he doesn’t make a move or anything––I’ll move on from him like you’ve been telling me to.” Your words are muffled from you savoring your sandwich, or what’s left of it anyways. (Mental note to self: don’t share your lunch with Jake ever again.)

When Jake still doesn’t respond (you’ve truly gotten this poor boy paralyzed), you find it as a sign to continue.

“I think it’s the perfect plan. Plus, if it doesn’t work out, it’ll be like the universe is telling me to finally move on, right?”

Wrong.

Jake has been encouraging you to move on from your crush because well, if we’re being honest here, he selfishly wants you to himself. Even if it wasn’t romantically.

Preferably, he would kill to get to be the one who holds your hand in the hall, call you cheesy pet names, post disgustingly cute couple pics for the ‘gram––but for the sake of potentially ruining his relationship with you, he’ll just have to settle with the role of being your best friend.

(And he’s totally fine with that! Totally. Yup.)

But he didn’t think that you moving on would only be a mere possible outcome (that may not even happen!) from whatever this stunt is you wanna pull.

Said stunt: Pretend to date one another and hope it catches the eye of a certain someone you have your eye on: Park Sunghoon.

Ah yes, Park Sunghoon. The previously mentioned one who’s probably still in line waiting to get his lunch as we speak.

Park Sunghoon, the tall, kind, intelligent, charming young boy that everyone knows. And if anyone didn’t know him, they most definitely knew of him. He wasn’t hard to miss in the halls; everything about him just radiates perfection.

If you plucked a random high-schooler from the halls of this school and interviewed them on the Park Sunghoon, they’d say you’d be lucky enough if the quiet boy so much as sparked a conversation with you, even if it was about what last night’s chemistry homework was.

Well if that were true, then you and the rest of the boys would be considered lottery winners.

How that happened, how the four of you dysfunctional beings earned his friendship, the world may never know. However, Jake is fully convinced that this was the universe’s way of playing a cruel joke on him.

For as long as Jake could remember, it’s always been just the two of you. You and Jake. Jake and you. (With the exception of Heeseung and Jay, of course, who came along in middle school)

In fact, your earliest memory of Jake was when he peed his pants in the kindergarten during nap time. You would know, you had the privilege of sharing a sleeping mat with him that one fateful day and in result...let’s just say the smell didn’t wear off from your clothes until a week later. Five-year-old you didn’t forgive five-year-old Jake for the longest time.

And since then, you’ve been attached by the hip. And Jake liked it like that. Jake didn’t need anyone else in his life (with the exception of Leila) if he had you. He had found his home within you, and he didn’t plan on sharing his space anytime soon.

Nevertheless, the universe had a completely different idea for the two of you.

Sunghoon came into the picture last year, towards the end of the school year. Despite being the new kid, he found his way into your cherished friend group and naturally, the five of you grew as close as friends could be.

That was the problem. Jake wanted to hate Sunghoon, to despise him for being the one that you had heart eyes for, but he couldn’t.

Not only was Sunghoon one of Jake’s closest friends, but he didn’t want to ruin the dynamic of the friend group. After you, the three chaotic boys were the next most important people in Jake’s life.

And so, we have the typical love triangle plot that every coming-of-age movie follows. Of course, this is all unbeknownst to you––you may be intelligent and a people-person, but oh boy can you not see the heart eyes your very own best friend has for you.

“It’ll be easier than you think, really! Look, we can even set boundaries or rules or whatever,” you propose, as if you’re trying to get him to sign a contract.

Rules to a fake relationship? We’re not living in a Netflix romcom, are we?

“Okay rule number 1: it’ll only be for a week and a week only, rule number 2: we don’t have to do anything too couple-ly like...” you pause to wonder for a second.

“Like PDA or anything! You know, unless we really need to convince him,” you casually add. When he responds with radio silence and stares at you with absolute concern painted all over his face, you cough. “Jake, I’m joking.”

Right. Of course. Obviously.

“And of course, just try not to fall in love with me, it’ll be hard, I know,” you send a playful wink his way.

Too late. Turns out it’s not that hard. Jake would know.

Jake continues to stare at you in hesitation. Yeah, you’ve had your fair share of crazy ideas (that Jake always find himself agreeing to––the poor boy just can’t seem to say no to you), but fake dating you?

Jake is sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off without slowly destroying himself. He’d just have to say no, he’s sure you can find someone else to do it for you.

Yes, that’s it, just say no.

Jake has to keep some of his pride in tact.

Jake does not say no.

He doesn’t know what went wrong. His mind said one thing, but his words said another.

To be fair, Jake’s actions have always been influenced by his heart, not his brain, anyways. And when it comes to you, you bet it’ll be coming from his heart.

So here he was now, under the stare of three equally shocked and confused guys across from you and him at the lunch table, your fingers intertwined with his.

Just a few seconds ago, you had spotted the rest of the lunch bunch approaching the table, and you quickly grabbed Jake’s hand and scooted in closer to him.

Now here you were, explaining to your friends of your sudden relationship.

Jake is too zoned out to even physically pick up your explanation. Something along the lines of "we’ve been dating for a while but didn’t want to tell you guys yet." From the feeling of your hand clutched tightly into his and your body right up next to him, his mind was short-circuiting.

How is he supposed to last an entire week of this if he couldn't handle innocent hand holding? Hand holding? God, what are we, back in the fifth grade?

Two minutes into this scheme and Jake's mind has already downgraded itself to a fifth grader's.

Jake mentally scolds himself for giving in, this was not a good idea.

It takes Jake approximately 12 hours to conclude that this stunt of yours may, actually, be a good idea. He knows this because approximately 12 hours after the events surrounding lunch, he receives a text from you:

y/n [12:03AM]: thanks again for doing this for me jake

y/n [12:03AM]: ur actually the best

y/n [12:04AM]: ew ok that was cheesy but really i owe u a big one <333

Following your thread of texts is a really close up photo of you widely smiling into the camera. A smile so big, Jake’s convinced your face was probably in pain after taking that picture.

Anyone else might’ve thought the photo looked borderline insane but because Jake’s Jake, aka a simpᵗᵐ for you, he comes to the conclusion that it’s singlehandedly the cutest thing he’s ever seen in the entire world.

After quickly saving the selfie into his phone, Jake tells himself that maybe this won’t be a bad thing after all. I mean, anything that makes you smile like that meant it has to be a good idea, right?

Spoken like a true simp.

Plus, dating you––fake dating you––is pretty much the same as it was before. He already spends most of his days with you to begin with. Now, it’s just with added displays of affection. For show, obviously. Obviously.

And look, if Jake will never get to actually be with you, then he’ll take what he can get. And if that meant fake dating you, well, he reasons that it’s better than nothing at all.

Wednesday, December 9th

Jake’s playing with the rings on your right hand and you’re in the middle of dramatically telling the lunch table about the infuriating Karen you had to deal with at work the other day when Jay comes up with a grin you all know a little too well.

“Okay that grin means one of two things: you finally grew the balls to ask out that poor girl you’ve been teasing all year or you have something planned that we won’t like,” you interrupt your story when you catch Jay’s sly expression, evoking a chuckle from Jake, who’s now found a new distraction with the bracelets perches on your wrist.

“Excuse you, I’ll have you know that I did ask her out. It just so happens that she’s currently ‘in between boyfriends’ whatever that means. Ouch, by the way,” Jay feigns hurt from your comment by clutching the area above his heart through his shirt. Ever the drama queen. “But yes, I do have something planned. And no, it’s not a bad idea.”

Jay squeezes his way in between Sunghoon and Heeseung from across you and begins to pull out his own lunch. Everyone’s eyes follow him as he settles in because as bad as his unknown idea may be, you’re all still curious on what this boy has to say.

“Well are you going to elaborate or...” Heeseung speaks up for everyone after you all mentally debate one another through darting eyes on who’s going to have to bite Jay’s silent bait.

Jay then forcefully sets both hands on his table, which elicits a little jump from you as you go for a bite of your sandwich. Adorable, Jake tells himself.

“My parents are out of town this weekend. We all know what that means...”

Yes. We do know what that means. The four of you have seen this scenario play out many times, a little too many times for your own good.

This meant one of Jay’s infamous house parties that he always throws whenever his parents go out of town. And because his parents are hot-shot CEOs of an important company whose name you don’t remember (it’s nothing personal, your brain can only handle so much information and this physics exam you were studying for took up 90% of your brain capacity at the moment), they’re out of town often.

And along with Jay’s parties comes chaos. Lots of it. And that’s because...well, it’s safe to say that despite the many school-wide presentations the police officers of your school have held in the auditorium on why you shouldn’t drink underage, Jay’s parents’ liquor cabinet always seems to find itself missing many a few bottles after each party. But we don’t talk about that. Shush.

Almost simultaneously, everyone at the table lets out a groan, much to Jay’s disappointment.

“C’mon guys! It’s been a while since anything’s fun happened to this school, think of all the sad students in that building right now,” he extends a finger whole-ass arm and points at your school, “who are in dire need of fun and a little...” he punctuates his sentence with the hand motion of chugging down a drink, followed with a gulping sound elicited from his tongue clicking.

You roll your eyes along with everyone else. Don’t be like Jay, kids. Listen to those police officers.

“Jay, it’s midterm season! I have an exam on Monday and I definitely do not want to spend the nights before wasted,” you give him an apologetic look. As crazy as Jay is, you do feel bad nonetheless. The boy just wants to have fun.

Your response is followed up with similar comments from around the table.

“I’m helping y/n study”

“I have an important skating performance on Sunday”

“Uh...my hamster died?” (ok Heeseung panicked, don’t blame the guy)

Ignoring that last excuse of an excuse, Jay continues his debate nonetheless. “Just come for the sake of it! No one’s saying you have to get wasted. Pleaseeee for me?”

Jay throws these parties so often, you’re not sure why he’s so set on making sure you’re all going to be there. Well, I guess who wouldn’t want their closest friends to be at their own party?

That and, Jay needs to make sure his friends are there to stop him from doing anything stupid. We all know this boy has had enough embarrassing moments to last him a lifetime.

Everyone at the table gives each other the same hesitant look. Heeseung is the first to give in, “Oh fuck it. Sure, count me in.”

Jay’s fist pumping the air before turning to Sunghoon with the most hopeful eyes.

Sunghoon simply sighs in return. “Alright okay, I’ll bite. But if you vomit on my shoes again, I’m out the door.” Jay’s finger is automatically drawing a cross over his heart as a promise to not ruin Sunghoon’s Nikes again.

He then looks to you with puppy eyes.

You, who's already staring back at Jay with a stoic look in your eyes, are stubborn and (unlike the previous weaklings) are not as easy to convince. And somehow, this began an unannounced staring contest between the two of you, a contest to see who would budge first. This isn't an uncommon occurrence between you and Jay, but the rest of the boys are still on the edges of their seats watching this duel.

Jake casually wraps an arm around your shoulder and you’re brought in close, but still undeterred from your death-stare match with the boy across from you.

If it’s not obvious enough, Jake’s really gotten into his role of being your boyfriend, despite it only being 24 hours since he last froze at your touch. Character development, you’ll give him that.

You almost forget he’s faking it for a quick second. And for an even quicker second, you imagine he wasn’t faking it. And you swear you feel butterflies in your stomach at that thought.

Weird.

You mentally shake the thought out of your head. Priorities first, aka, beating Jay in this staring contest.

“Fuck,” you stutter when you finally blink, admitting defeat to a grinning Jay. “Okay, okay, I’ll THINK about it. I’ll let you know.”

Not exactly the answer Jay was looking for, but he’ll take it. Better than a no.

He turns to Jake next, knowing there’s no way Jake will turn down a party. Just like Jay, the boy loves himself a good party.

But–

But because Jake would take your physics exam this Monday for you if you asked, because Jake would bungee jump in the Grand Canyon without a safety net below him if you asked, because Jake would fake date you to make your crush jealous for you if you asked, he doesn’t hesitate in his answer this time around: “Same as y/n, I’ll let you know.”

Jay looks at Jake. Then back at you, who he’s still clinging onto like a koala to a tree. Then back at Jake. “You two are gross. Admittedly cute. But gross.”

You look up at the boy next to you to see him already grinning at you.

For the first time today, you find yourself agreeing with Jay.

Admittedly cute.

Thursday, December 10th

You are having a bad day.

You’re having the mother of bad days.

Not only is it midterm season, but you still have all your regular weekly assignments to finish before Friday hits. So as a natural-born procrastinator does, you stayed up all last night trying to get a good amount of work done because what’s better than cramming all your work the night before it’s due? Doing it two nights before it’s due.

Well apparently it wasn’t such a good idea. Because now, here you were, frantically throwing on whatever articles of clothing you find nearest to you because you slept through all your alarms.

You’re lucky enough to make it through your school’s doors right as the second bell rings, even if you did look like you just walked straight out of a zombie apocalypse.

You’re not so lucky when you find out your first class of the day, calculus, had a pop quiz. A pop quiz on the only unit you just happened to know absolutely nothing about.

To top things off, you forgot to pack your lunch during this morning’s frenzy, meaning you’re automatically stuck sharing with Jake.

And because his mother started making him pack his own food out of a lesson of responsibility (she said something along the lines of: “Jake, you’re about to be in college and you don’t know how to pack a decent meal”), he only has a plain PB&J sandwich and a pack of Scooby-Doo gummies in his bag today (because newsflash, he still doesn’t know how to pack a decent meal).

Not that you could care less at the moment, you were too preoccupied with catching up on your assignments to even eat. And if any of the boys noticed your zombie-like state during lunch, they did a good job of not mentioning it. They knew better than to bother an irritated y/n.

Somehow, you make it through the entire school day and your after-school meeting for environmental club (save the trees!) in one piece. As you finally walk out of the school building, you exhale, automatically feeling lighter. At least the hard part of your day was done.

Now you just had to wait for Jake to finish soccer practice, which usually ended around the same time as your club, and he can drive you home, where you can continue being irritated with your day in the privacy of your own space.

You wait on the steps of the school’s entrance, waiting for a smiley Jake to come around the corner as he usually does at 5:30pm every Thursdays.

Yes, a smiling Jake is exactly what you needed to make your day ten times better, you conclude.

As if on cue, you hear a ding from your phone.

Jake [5:30PM]: ugh coach is extending practice for “team bonding”

Jake [5:30PM]: idek what team bonding is

Jake [5:31PM]: you ok if i cant drive you today? ://

It’s as if the universe decided to use you as its punching bag today.

You physically let out a distorted groan, not caring if anyone who happened to hear you thought you were a creature from out of this world, as you send him a text back.

y/n [5:32PM]: it’s all good lol have fun with tEaM bOnDiNg

Things were not all good. But no matter how upset you may be, you weren’t going to project your negative vibes onto Jake’s naturally positive ones. So you get up from the stone steps and begin your dreaded walk back home.

It’s freezing out. You should’ve known better to just throw on a hoodie and call it a day when it’s the middle of December. But then again, you figured by now you’d be in the comfort and warmth of Jake’s car and presence...not walking home in these freezing temperatures.

You think about Jake and how he’s probably currently suffering from not only his team bonding exercises (but really though, what are team bonding exercises?), but doing them in this weather as well. The poor boy.

You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts by the sound of a car engine from behind you. When you don’t see it pass by you and instead hear it pull over and park next to the curb of the sidewalk you’re currently on, you automatically deduce that this is it, this is my time, I’m about to get kidnapped by whoever it is behind me but y/n, you should probably turn around and check first before you drive yourself insane in this inner dialogue.

You turn around and squint into the front window of the car. If it were a kidnapper, this is exactly what your mother told you not to do. Her exact words were: “Run, don’t look back, and scream bloody murder.”

Good thing it wasn’t. Just an innocent Sunghoon waving his hand at you, motioning you to get in.

“Sunghoon?” You approach his car and stop at the passenger side’s open window.

“y/n! It’s freezing out, I’ll drive you home c’mon,” he nods his head towards the passenger side door.

Well, how could you say no? Sunghoon owns a nice car. Like a nice car. Like car-seat-heaters-that-make-you-feel-like-you’re-physically-melting nice. Beats getting hypothermia outside, right?

“Why are you going home from school so late?” You ask as you settle into his car, instantly melting at the touch of the aforementioned heated seats.

“Debate club, actually. Decided I needed another personality trait other than ice skating,” he starts the engine and begins driving towards the direction of your neighborhood.

You laugh at his comment, you didn’t peg him as a debate kind of student. Quiet Sunghoon? Debate club? If 2 plus 2 is four...

“Hey, I don’t call you the Ice Prince for nothing! Also, don’t forget your other personality trait: forgetting your lunch every day.”

Sunghoon quickly glances over at you to send you a dirty look (because eyes on the road, kids!), which you return with a cheeky grin. “Need I remind you that was you today?”

“Touché,” you click your tongue.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the faint sound of Sunghoon's music in the background filling in the quietness.

You’re humming along until Sunghoon breaks the silence, “Did Jake get stuck at practice again?”

You don’t know why, but you swear you feel your heart beat faster at the mention of Jake’s name. No, that was always there right? Because you were with Sunghoon...your crush..obviously. Obviously.

Ignoring the feeling, you turn your attention towards the boy driving you.

“Oh yeah, something about team bonding. How’d you know?”

“Eh, I just figured since he wasn’t driving you home like he always does.” He turns into your neighborhood.

You nod at his answer.

“You two make a good couple.”

You whip your head at him. Did you hear him correctly?

“It was about time, really. You two have been ogling at one another for so long, Heeseung, Jay, and I almost placed bets on who would be the first to make a move.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, casually going on about how you and Jake make the cutest couple he’s ever seen.

You're frozen, unsure of what to think, let alone say.

You think to two days ago, when you started this entire fake relationship because of the very boy driving you home right now. The same boy who's complimenting you on your fake relationship. The same boy who's supposed to be jealous over that said relationship. The same boy you’re supposed to be crushing over.

But now...only a mere 48 hours later, you were finding yourself okay with the fact that he was happy for you. And for the life of you, you couldn’t remember why you liked Sunghoon in the first place. Not saying he isn’t one to be crushed on, I mean, look at the guy.

Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you didn't feel nervous or giddy or..anything at all when you got into the car with Sunghoon. At least, not until Jake's name was mentioned. That's when you felt the butterflies. At the mention of Jake.

Jake.

Weird.

But before you can come to a conclusion on why you're feeling the way you do, Sunghoon interrupts your thoughts.

"Well, we're here! Say hi to your parents for me," he pulls into your driveway as you're still collecting your thoughts.

You give him a quick thanks and one last wave as you enter the front doors of your house.

Seeing that your only solution towards confusing feelings meant distracting yourself, distract yourself you did.

Even if it meant distracting yourself with your piling assignments.

The next time you look up from your work, it's suddenly way past sundown and a heavy storm has taken over. You’re surprised it hasn’t started flooding yet with the amount of rainfall you were hearing.

You check the time on your phone, the bright 8:16PM on the screen illuminating your dimly lit room. Seeing that neither of your parents have yet to be home from work, it looks like you were going to have to settle with some instant ramen for dinner tonight.

As you trudge down the stairs of your home, the sound of light knocking against the front door catches your attention. It's been a long day y/n, you're probably hearing things, it's definitely just the rain.

Nope. There it is again, but much louder. Much more urgent.

You contemplate any and all potential disasters that could happen from answering the door. Only a crazy person would be willing to go out in this hurricane-like weather to be frantically knocking on your door.

And so, you assume it has to be some psychopath trying to get into your house. Yes, there’s definitely no other logical explanation.

You scramble around your living room, looking for the next best weapon to defend you. Resorting to the flower vase your mother keeps on the table next to the front door, you hold it out in front of you, as if you're waiting for the door to burst open.

The knocking continues, gradually getting louder. You mentally curse at yourself for dropping out of the taekwondo class your dad signed you up for when you were younger.

Vase in hand, you swing open the door and brace for–

"Jake? What the fuck? Get in here, you're gonna get sick!"

You’re suddenly aware of how stupid you look, holding a light pink vase with a couple of orchids as your only form of self-defense...for it to only be your own best friend. You immediately put it back on the table as Jake quickly rushes past you and into your humble abode.

You close the door behind you and turn to face the soaked boy.

“I come bearing gifts, also known as take-out and hot chocolate from that one cafe you love. Also my company, if you’ll take it. I had a feeling you weren’t having the best day today,” he’s simply standing there, holding up a large brown paper bag in one hand, and a deliciously smelling cup of hot chocolate in the other, but you’re looking at him as if he bought you the Moon.

You stare in awe at the angel of a boy in front of you, silently thanking the stars for gifting you this amazing human being as your best friend. You don’t know what you did to deserve him.

You give him a soft smile. “Jake, you didn’t have to. It’s practically a shitstorm out there,” you cock your head towards the window, showcasing the downpour of cats and dogs outside. Jake stays by the entrance as you go down the hall and through your house’s linen closet to find a spare towel for the drenched boy.

“Nah it’s no big deal, really. Just fulfilling my duties as your loyal boyfriend,” he grins, even though you can’t see him. He likes calling himself that. Your boyfriend.

Jake continues to shake his messy hair to get the excess rain off, giving a mental apology to whoever is going to have to mop up the puddle forming on the floor due to his unannounced visit. Probably you.

Jake hears you laugh down the hall. “You’re really invested in your role, huh? Keep this up and you might actually trick me into believing you’re my actual boyfriend.”

Actual boyfriend? Jake likes the sound of that. Maybe he will keep this up then.

Jake doesn’t have much experience in acting, unless you count that time he played the role of Town Villager #3 in the third grade play, so he never found it as one of his interests. But playing the role of your boyfriend was one he was willing to fulfill for the rest of life, even if it was just for show.

Jake doesn’t respond to your comment, he’s instead self-aware of his blushing cheeks, thankful that you’re too busy rummaging through your linen closet to take notice.

“Plus, you didn’t have lunch today and I had feeling you were going to be too caught up in your work to feed yourself anything other than instant ramen,” he sets down his gifts to you on your living room’s coffee table as you come around the corner, fresh towel and new set of clothes in hand.

His eyes fall on the familiar looking pair of sweatpants and hoodie resting on the palms of your hands.

Hm. A little too familiar.

Then, it clicks in his head.

His eyes narrow at you as you giggle at his reaction, “Oh, so it takes me getting drenched in the rain for you to finally return my clothes that I’ve been missing!?”

“Hey! I’m not returning them, simply loaning them out to a friend who’s in dire need. You basically gifted them to me the second you left them here months ago.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Love you too,” you toss the clothes at him and take a seat on the floor around your coffee table, prepping the table with the boxes of Chinese food Jake supplied.

After Jake changes into the stolen dry clothes, he takes a seat next to an already-eating you at the coffee table.

“You. are. my lord and savior Sim Jaeyun,” you’re saying with your mouth full of fried rice. You sigh from satisfaction and rest your head against Jake’s shoulder as you continue chewing. He grins as he helps himself to his own serving of fried rice and orange chicken.

You look up at him from your spot, “How was team bonding today?”

Jake groans in response, clearly annoyed. “Stupid. I don’t get how doing trust falls and pyramid building is going to get us any closer. If anything, I almost FELL off that pyramid today!”

You don’t know why, but you find yourself admiring him and his soft features as he continues to rant about one of his teammates, specifically, the one who almost dropped him.

The way his messy hair, unkept from the rain ruining it, almost covers his eyes (but you tell yourself you like it this way, it looks more natural on him), the way the corners of his lips are always perked upwards (even when he’s ranting), the way his eyes sparkle whenever he’s truly passionate about whatever he’s talking about, the way his eyes look at you like–

“Stare much? Look, I get you can’t resist my good looks but at least be subtle about it,” he smirks at you as he takes another spoon of rice.

You break out of his trance and scoff at him.

“You’re cute when you rant,” you nonchalantly say as you move from your spot to mirror his actions and add more rice to your plate as well. Jake’s stills at your sudden comment, unsure of how to respond. Lucky for him, you’re distracted by the mountain of food on your plate to even notice the blushing mess of a boy next to you.

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute. Or else I’d deck you right here and now for ditching me after school today.”

Anddd there goes the moment. Leave it to you to follow up a compliment with a threat of violence.

Jake finds it cute anyways. He always finds you cute.

Jake narrows his eyes and lightly shoves you before an apology is written all over his face. “Sorry about that by the way. I feel awful about making you walk home when it was freezing out.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Sunghoon gave me a ride, actually. Did you know he does debate? I guess you learn something new everyday,” you ramble, unaware of the boy next to you getting tense at the sudden mention of the other’s name.

Up until now, Jake’s completely forgotten about Sunghoon's involvement in this entire scheme. In fact, the past 48 hours with you have felt so normal, so comfortable, he almost forgot about the deal in the first place. “You think he has any clue?” Jake suddenly asks, referring to the plan.

You immediately know what he’s referring to, as Jake practically worded out your very own thoughts.

You shrug. “Not a single one. We’re practically William and Kate in his eyes. But honestly, that’s the least of my worries right now. I’m too distracted by my exams right now to care.”

Jake feels guilty for being satisfied with your answer. He’s 100% sure that if convincing Sunghoon took you two an entire lifetime of fake dating, he’d be all too willing to do it.

“Go to Jay’s party with me tomorrow,” he abruptly says, catching your attention as your mouth is stuffed. Cute.

He pokes your cheek. “It’ll get your mind off of work and plus, what’s more convincing than showing up to a party with your amazing boyfriend?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jake doesn’t know where he gets his sudden surge of confidence. But he does know he loves calling himself your boyfriend...even if it’s for the time being.

Rolling your eyes and swatting his poking fingers away from your face, you ponder on his suggestion.

“You mean my annoying boyfriend,” you stick your tongue out at him. Jake takes a mental picture and hopes it never leaves his mind.

“But I guess you could be right. Maybe I can clear my head for the night before I study my ass off all weekend.”

Friday, December 11th

The party does not clear your mind.

If anything, it gives you enough headaches to last you at least until the end of high-school.

You come to this revelation as you and Jake approach Jay’s home, a luxurious mansion sitting at the end of a cul-de-sac, lined with similarly luxurious palaces, located in an equally luxurious neighborhood.

You come to this revelation when you can already feel the pounding bass of music as you walk up Jay’s driveway.

You come to this revelation when, not even two seconds after entering Jay’s front doors––

“You’re here!” A buzzed Jay shouts at the two of you, causing the both of you to contemplate your past choices that brought you here today. Jay definitely isn’t straight up drunk yet, but Jake still makes a mental note to keep an eye on him tonight. Just in case.

The blonde-haired boy is quick to hand over two red solo cups of god knows what, to which you and Jake immediately put down on the nearest table after Jay walks away to greet the next incoming guests (you know, to not hurt his feelings).

You and Jake are lucky enough to have been around Jay and his parties long enough to know that going all out at these parties will not be pretty the next morning.

You cringe at the memory of last year, when you had to suffer from possibly the worst hangover of all hangovers after one of Jay’s parties. Jake will never let you forget how miserable you looked the next morning. His camera roll’s album titled “y/n blackmail pics” can vouch for that.

“Remind me again to never listen to you,” you almost have to shout at Jake over the thumping music. Jake laughs at your comment and tugs at your hand as he begins entering the house.

The two of you do your rounds of greetings to the people you know...and random underclassmen who you swear you have never seen before but somehow made it to this party. You’ve always questioned how Jay��s invite list worked. Maybe there isn’t one. That would explain how it looked like someone announced Jay was giving out free Teslas and the entire school got hold of the news.

“Thank god you guys are here,” you hear a voice come from behind the two of you as you guys leave the main room to enter the house’s smaller, but just as luxurious looking, den. You turn to see Heeseung with Sunghoon following closely behind, trying his best not to get swept away in the crowd of people.

The den is where you usually stayed during these parties. It’s not like there are rules of where people are allowed to party, by any means, but it’s like how a high-school’s cafeteria worked. There’s a mutual silent agreement of where everyone goes, and the den is where the party host and his friends went.

“Okay, is it just me, or is tonight’s party just a little...too..much?” Sunghoon asks as the four of you take your seats on the main couch of the room. Jake’s quick to make space for you next to him as you go to sit, but to his surprise, you find your home right on his lap.

“You said be convincing right?” you say into his ear as you settle yourself. Right. That’s totally why. Because you had to go along with the ruse. Obviously.

You shift a bit so you’re more facing sideways, not blocking off Jake’s line of vision as the boy himself is..well, calling him a rag doll might be excessive.

But he’s sure he looks like one right now, having lost all senses in his limbs, leaving him frozen underneath you.

Jake Sim is the epitome of politeness. He was raised in a family that taught him how to respectfully greet others, how to always offer food to others before eating it himself, how to properly treat a significant other. As a result, Jake grew up to be one of the sweetest, kindest, purest people to ever walk this earth.

(Relatively speaking, the earth is large, but so is Jake’s heart.)

But human-beings aren’t perfect, they must have a balance. A balance of pros and cons.

Sure, he can’t pack his own lunch and sometimes forgets to water the little succulent you gifted him that’s currently seated on his window sill. Sure, sometimes he’s too sweet for his own good, you know, like willing-to-be-your-fake-boyfriend too sweet. But aside from the minor details, Jake Sim doesn’t have many cons, no.

But he sure can be awkward.

And so because Jake Sim is sweet, kind, pure, and awkward, he is unsure of what to do with himself when you’re seated right on top of him.

As if you could read his befuddled mind, you take his arm that’s resting behind you to wrap around your waist as your support as you throw one of your arms around his shoulder. And throughout this entire adjustment, his widened eyes are staring right at you.

Bless this pure, pure boy.

Also bless the position you’re in, blocking the two other boys from directly seeing Jake’s face. Because if they were to catch glimpse of Jake’s expression right now, your cover might be blown, just like that. You’re lucky Heeseung and Sunghoon are distracted by another classmate who came up to them.

“Relax,” you sweetly laugh, cupping his chin with your free hand and lightly squeezing his cheeks. “You’re so adorably awkward.”

Jake pouts at you. “I am not awkward!”

“Right, and I’m totally dating you for real,” you playfully whisper at him, eliciting a poke at your waist in response.

Twenty minutes of people-watching-aka-“who do you think is gonna pass out first?”-from-your-spot-on-the-couch later, the four of you draw your attention to the rowdy party host you all have the honor of calling your friend––aka Jay––dancing (that is, if you call wildly swinging your limbs in all four directions dancing) in the middle of the den.

"Oh god, look at him," Sunghoon voices from besides you.

Heeseung's already filming the moment on his phone. Ah yes, technology. The best thing to ever happen to drunk teens' friends.

"He's so wasted," you throw your head back as you let out a laugh. “We should help the kid out.”

Poor Jay. He's not gonna hear the end of it after tonight.

"I don't know why he thinks these parties are such a good idea when he knows how trashed he's gonna be when he wakes up," Jake says, his hand naturally squeezing your waist as you giggle at his comment. "And how trashed the house will be."

Jay slumbers over to where the four of you are seated, and abruptly stops right in front of the couch.

"My best friends!" Jay happily cheers. “Having fun?”

“Watching you? Always,” you say to the boy who’s squeezing into a seat between you and Sunghoon, as if the small couch wasn’t already suffocating enough (and that’s with you on Jake’s lap).

“But for real though, you should probably lay off the drinks for now,” Heeseung insists. “For all our sakes.”

Sunghoon nods along and grabs the cup Jay’s currently nursing and sets it down where it’s out of Jay’s reach, much to his dismay. But the disappointment quickly leaves the dazed boy’s head, as his attention is now directed towards you and Jake.

“Well if it isn’t mom and dad,” Jay turns to face you and Jake, certainly amused by your seating arrangement.

“You know–” Jay points a finger at the two of you. “For a couple that’s certainly close, I haven’t seen you two kiss.”

Jake is immediately coughing, certainly not expecting that to come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Okay and your point is?” Jake frowns at Jay. If Jay wasn’t tipsy, Jake would’ve smacked the back of his head by now.

“I’m just saying...” the blonde responds, both hands up in the air as if Jake is accusing him of something, when in was, in fact, the opposite. “But nevermind, Jakey boy here is probably too innocent for such nonsense anyways.”

Yes, it’s confirmed. Once Jay sobers up tomorrow, Jake is driving over to his house (even though it’s a good ten minute drive from his own) just to smack him.

“What do you mean I’m too–”

Jake doesn’t finish his sentence. In fact, Jake doesn’t even remember what he was going to say.

Jake doesn’t think nor feel anything else other than your lips planted on his.

You’re pulling him in close, your hands cupping his face as his own are twitching on your waist, his mind flustered. You move your hands from his face to his neck, to which Jake immediately relaxes at.

Sure, you two are in the middle of a dumb high-school party, one filled with pounding music and shouting teenagers, but right now, in this moment, Jake can only feel you. And he doesn’t want the feeling to ever stop.

When you part, Jake’s eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, his own parted in shock. He thinks he might pass out right here and now. He thinks his heart might explode right here and now. He thinks he might lov-

“Happy?” you turn to a satisfied Jay, ignoring the looks of amusement from Heesung and Sunghoon besides him.

“Well,” you pat Jake’s leg as you get up from your spot. “I’m gonna get us some drinks. Punch only, of course.”

Jake’s eyes are on you as you walk away, his face tinted pink from the adrenaline of it all, his heart racing.

Jake thinks back to three days ago, when he told himself that this idea of yours was going to be all fine. After all, it was only going to be for one week. Afterwards, he can move on with his life as if nothing happened.

But fast forward 72 hours later, 72 hours after you and Jake started this act, 72 hours after Jake told himself it’ll be all fine, Jake knows he was poorly mistaken.

Because 72 hours later, in the middle of a party that reeked of the combined smell of alcohol and sweat, Jake knows one thing and one thing for sure.

He never wants to move on from the feeling of being with you. He never wants to move on from this.

From you.

He’s screwed.

Saturday, December 12th

When Jake wakes up, much later than he intended to, on Saturday morning, the first sensation he feels are his tingling lips, still in disbelief that they graced your own last night.

The second sensation being his pounding mind––it’s running through ten million thoughts at a time, telling him no last night wasn’t a dream.

Third: his heart beating so fast at the thought of you, he thinks he might beat out of his chest.

And fourth, a buzzing noise.

Jake blindly flounders his arm to the table beside him in hopes of finding the origin of the annoying sound, aka, his phone.

After knocking down multiple miscellaneous items on his nightstand (he makes a mental note to clean his room later), he successfully retrieves the item of search.

Jake squints at the bright screen, mind still cloudy from a mix of 1) being half-asleep, and 2) still processing what happened the night before.

y/n [11:10AM]: r u awake yet?

y/n [11:22AM]: imma take that as a no

y/n [11:35AM]: lemme know when ur up

jake [11:44AM]: just woke up sorry

jake [11:44AM]: are you okay? what’s up

y/n [11:45AM]: r u busy?

y/n [11:45AM]: kinda wanted to talk abt smth

jake [11:45AM]: uh well no im still in bed lmao

y/n [11:46AM]: cool im outside your door

Jake’s eyes widen as he processes your last few texts.

Talk? Outside his door?

Jake’s heart is nervously pounding as jumps out of bed and quickly puts on the first plaid flannel he finds. He scrambles to his mirror and gives his reflection a quick run-down.

He’s sporting your his favorite hoodie underneath the flannel that’s long overdue a wash and his tousled hair has seen better days, but he couldn't care less.

Before his mind can catch up to his actions, he’s rushing down the stairs, skipping two at a time and to this front door. Because he didn’t want to keep you waiting? Because he was too excited to see you? Maybe a mix of both. Definitely more of the latter, however.

He quickly runs a hand through his hair to try to fix it up as much as he can, to no avail, before opening the door to reveal you, sitting on the steps of his front porch.

“y/n,” he’s breathing heavily as you turn to greet him with your sweet smile he didn’t even realize he was missing. Is it possible to miss someone overnight? Jake concludes yes, it definitely is.

“Did you run down here or something?,” you question his out-of-breath state, a teasing tone laces the tip of your tongue.

“Or something,” Jake mutters as he closes the front door behind him to join you on the steps when you make no sign of moving. “Have you been out here all morning?”

“Not allll morning. I had a feeling you’d sleep in so I came around the time I first texted you. Would’ve knocked but didn’t wanna bother your family,” you hum, keeping your eyes trained on the peaceful scenery around you.

You’ve always loved Jake’s neighborhood, it brought you a sense of peace, a sense of home.

Or was that because it reminded you of Jake?

“You could never be a bother,” he quickly rebuttals as he takes his seat next to you on the steps.

You respond with a soft smile before turning your attention back to anything other than the boy next to you. Your mind seems to be lost in its own thoughts, Jake can tell by the distant look in your eyes.

The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the silence that falls between the two of you.

Any other day, Jake would love this. He savors every second he’s with you, even if it’s just pure silence.

But this silence was different. It wasn’t the usual comforting, warm silence that the two of you share on a typical day. This one held tension, tension so thick that Jake doesn’t know where to begin thinking.

But here’s the thing. Jake doesn’t think.

Not when it comes to you.

He takes a deep breath. Rubs his hands together. Pats them on his lap. Turns towards you.

“Look, I-”

“I think I might like you.” The words come out of your mouth so fast, Jake’s positive he heard you wrong the first time around.

He whips his head to meet your eyes, your own already staring back at him, your bottom lip nervously tucked under your teeth.

“No, I––I do. I know I do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I don’t think I’m doing a very good job right now,” the words are all of the sudden tumbling out of your mouth as if your brain flipped a switch and isn’t able to turn it off. “In hindsight, I should’ve known better to fake date my own best friend. But these past few days made me realize how much I love being with you. And not like how I’m always with you 24/7 before this entire thing started, but being with you. I even started getting that weird, bubbly feeling in my stomach every time I so much as heard your name. And then last night at the party, I realized afterwards that I wouldn’t have kissed you if some part of me didn’t see you in that way. Even if it meant Jay would’ve been on our asses all night if I didn’t. So yeah.”

You finish with a deep breath and look up at him to meet his widened eyes. Silence.

Jake thought he was braindead during last week’s history quiz. Jake thought he was braindead when he had to cram a semester’s worth of chemistry content the night before his exam. Heck, Jake thought he was braindead when you first told him about your idea of a fake dating him. But no, this is braindead.

He’s finally hearing what he’s been dreaming of for so long, and of all times, now his brain decides to shut off.

“Are you..uh..are you gonna say anything?” You’re nervously fumbling with your hands, desperate to distract yourself with anything else apart from his silent stare.

"Why are you sorry?" Jake says before his mind can think of anything else. He doesn't pay attention to his thumping heart that's one look-from-you away from exploding right then and there. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you took the words right out of my mouth.”

Now you're staring at him with the wide eyes, the words processing in your mind.

Jake realizes he's waited too long to do this. A few years too long. He also realizes he shouldn't have put on that extra layer of a flannel. The nervous tension created by the two of you was suffocating enough, and being outside under the bright sun didn’t help.

"I like you too. God y/n, I like you too so much," Jake doesn't even care if his words are all sorts of messed up right now. He just needs you to get the idea. "I have for a while now.”

You let out a relieved sigh, ecstasy rushing through your blood. “Really? I think I have for a while too. I’m so stupid, it took me so long to realize it. It didn’t hit me until I realized how I felt around you, compared to the guy I’m supposed to actually have a crush on.”

Jake lets out a laugh, the tension immediately dissolving. “Hey, if it wasn’t for Sunghoon, I don’t think we’d be here right now.”

“You’re right, I’m too oblivious and you’re too awkward to actually make a move,” you wink at him. If his heart wasn’t fluttering at the sight of you, on his porch on a Saturday morning, confessing your feelings to him, Jake probably would’ve lightly shoved you away.

Instead, he’s turning to you with the most endeared look on his face, and you’re blushing underneath his gaze.

“What? Stare much?” You giggle, quoting the boy himself as you shyly duck your head to avoid his stare.

Jake gently grabs your chin to tilt your face towards his, and before you can process what’s happening, he suddenly meets your lips with his own, closing the gap between you two.

Jake thinks if the ground underneath him right now decided to open up and swallow him whole, he’d die happily.

Jake smiles against you, feeling comfort in ways he’ll never be able to achieve without you.

Your hands instinctively find their way into his hair, as one of his rests below your ear, thumb softly caressing your cheek, the other pulling you in by the waist. He’s naturally leaning into you, gravitating towards your warmth, unable to stop the giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach.

He doesn’t think the feeling will ever go away.

When you pull away to catch your breath, you rest your head against the nook of his neck, basking in his presence as his arms both find their way around your waist. You sigh in pleasure.

“Remember at the beginning of all of this, when you told me ‘Just try not to fall in love with me?’” Jake gently says. Jake feels the slight nod you give against his shoulder as you hum in response.

Jake whispers two more words into your ear, filling you with happiness and warmth you know you won’t be able to find through anyone––or anything––else.

“Too late.”

✰ if you made it ‘til the end, ily :’)))))

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Prologue

Author's Note: *Spoilers for WW84* Welcome to my brand new series coming Jan 2021! December Magic (my first Max Lord series) will be coming to an end in the coming week and I'm finally excited to share with you my brand new series. This series will be my interpretation of what happens after the events of WW84. If you would like to be added to a taglist, please let me know! Merry Christmas everyone.

Word count: 2,000

Permanent Taglist: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

Masterlist

Previous - Prologue - Next

*gif by: @mell-bell

"I've been lying to you, I'm not a great guy. In fact I’m a pretty messed up loser guy. And I make terrible mistakes. But you... you don’t ever have to make a wish for me to love you. I'm here because I love you. I just… I just wish and I pray that one day I will make you proud enough to forgive me.” Alistair could see the plea in his father's eyes. He could see the promise. And he saw a glint of something he had never seen before. Something so genuine, and powerful. Something so beautiful.

Alistair smiled weakly. “I don’t need you to make me proud. I already love you, daddy. Because you’re my dad.” Alistair revealed, pulling his father into a hug.

"I love you so much, my son." Maxwell croaked out, his hands fondling into Alistair's locks of hair and pressing a kiss into his forehead.

Maxwell's whole life; he had wished for more. Something bigger and better. He had wished for greatness because that was something he had never had. He couldn't afford college education and he didn't have loving parents. He came from a broken home; so when the opportunity arose and he was presented with shares in oil and the potential to start his own business, he took it. He yearned to make someone proud, and after the birth of his son, he'd found that someone.

It had all gone wrong. It wasn't meant to, but it had. Maxwell didn't think he could ever be able to forgive himself for his actions and misdirections, but his own forgiveness didn't matter. He could live the rest of his life in painful guilt if it meant that his son still loved him unconditionally.

Maxwell saw himself as a monster, a beast. For who would love a broken man like him? His parents didn't, his ex wife didn't. He had no one. He needed Alistair more than he could ever know.

"Daddy?" Alistair mumbled into his father's dress shirt, salty tears pricking his dark eyes. His voice was muffled by the way he had nuzzled his face into his father's warm chest, cherishing the embrace.

"Yes?" Maxwell hummed, eventually pulling away from his son, but his hands still set firmly on Alistair's shoulders. Alistair hesitated for a moment, nervously biting his lip as his father searched for an answer. What did Alistair want? Whatever he wanted, Maxwell was ready to give it— ready to give his all. Ready to change and become a better man. Alistair took a deep breath. He had a lot to learn and a long way to go but he was finally ready.

"Can we go home?" he asked, his eyes glistening with hope for a better future.

"Yes." Maxwell sighed, exhaling and letting his entire body deflate as he interlocked his fingers with his son. Alistair's hand was small, but his grip on Maxwell was tight— like he was afraid to let go. Afraid to lose his father. He couldn't lose him, not again.

The helicopter was still in near enough distance but Max wasn't about to hitch a ride a fly home like he might've once done before. Maxwell and Alistair walked through the field hand in hand until eventually they reached the highway. Where there was once plenty of abandoned cars and trucks, the world was finally restoring back to its former ways. But Maxwell swore that he was done being the greedy, selfish, businessman turned TV personality. He wanted none of that anymore. He wanted his family, and his son. He wanted to be a good father.

All he ever wanted deep down was to be a good dad to Alistair. He never believed in himself. How could he, when he had no father figure to look up to? Nobody in his life to give him encouragement, guidance or reassurance— nothing. He had come this far on his own and it was awful, isolating and damaging. He would not let his son make the same mistakes as he did.

They passed through the highway and it wasn't long until they were back at Black Gold Cooperative. Knowing that his company was about to go bust and that he'd have to sell all his assets just so he'd be able to earn enough to live off for a few months concerned him, but it was the least of his worries right now. He reached into the pocket of his tailored suit pants and took out his car keys, unlocking the passenger door and ushering for Alistair to slide in.

"But daddy, don't you have a driver?" Alistair questioned, his fingers fiddling with the knobs and buttons on the car radio. Maxwell slid into the driver's seat and let his hands glide around the wheel as he tried to recall the last time he had driven himself. It had been a long time.

"You know buddy, things are going to be changing very soon," Maxwell said, his eyes glazed as he looked upon the orange glowing skyline. "You might not like it at first. Might be hard to understand but, I promise you that one day you'll get it. I'm never going to hurt you again and I will make up all my wrongdoings. Even if it takes me the rest of my life," Maxwell huffed out a sigh. "Truth is, I was never deserving of the fancy cars, designer clothing and big house. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that we don't need those things to be happy."

"What do we need?" Alistair questioned curiously as Maxwell turned the key and initiated the engine.

Maxwell recalled the words spoken by Diana. "Love," Maxwell responded, like it was the simplest yet most beautiful thing in the world.

Most of the car journey home was filled with comfortable silence as Max kept his eyes on the road ahead, concentrating to the best of his ability whilst Alistair gazed out the window as he seemingly watched society rebuild itself. "So uhm, we still have the weekend together," Maxwell smiled as he pulled into the driveway. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't care, as long as I can spend time with you." Alistair grinned, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. It mirrored his father's. Maxwell took a deep breath and turned off the engine, unclicking his seatbelt and turning to his son.

"I have always loved you," Max admitted. "And I will always love you. Forever."

Alistair paused. "Can you play on the Atari with me? Mom's new boyfriend bought me a new video game and I really wanna try it out! He wanted to play with me but, you know. I'd rather play with my daddy."

Maxwell's eyes lit up ecstatically. He didn't have the first clue about video games, and in the past he would've shrugged off Alistair's request. But in this moment, he couldn't think of anything better. They sat on the floor in front of the nineteen inch television, stuffing their faces with popcorn. "Hey!" Maxwell laughed, huffing his cheeks out in annoyance. "You keep killing me!"

"Daddy," Alistair groaned out with a small giggle, prodding his finger into his father's tummy. "I'm going easy on you!"

"Okay okay," Maxwell chuckled as Alistair restarted the game. "Let's start again, I know I can beat you this time!" Maxwell grinned and pressed 'play' on the controller, his ring clad fingers pushing the buttons desperately.

Maxwell had spent his whole life trying to find his destiny and understand his legacy. He'd spent his life in pursuit of meaning and purpose— but the truth is, his purpose had been right before him this whole time. His purpose was Alistair. And right now, he couldn't be happier. Diana had let him off the hook, but that didn't mean his actions wouldn't have consequences.

The phone rang; a haunting buzz that vibrated throughout the whole house. "Can you pause it for me?" Maxwell asked, ruffling Alistair's hair. "I'll go answer this call and bring us back some more popcorn." Alistair nodded excitedly as Maxwell rose to his feet, his knees aching as he stalked over to the still ringing phone.

Leaning against the wall, he pulled it off the hook. "Hello?" he asked, curling the wire around his finger. "Who's there?"

"Max, it's me," the voice was like a ghost from his past. He felt his heart sink into the depths of his chest as he could practically taste the anger that dripped from her familiar tongue. "Bring Alistair home. You do not deserve him. I don't want you anywhere near my son ever again." she threatened before the line fell completely silent. Dead. Maxwell's shaky hands placed the phone back on the hook and he closed his eyes. He knew that he wasn't deserving of the unconditional love that Alistair gave him, but that boy meant the world to him. He had finally found his opportunity to change and become a better man— a better father. Maxwell padded back down the corridor and leaned against the door frame, watching as Alistair carefully read the words on the back of the box of his video game. Max's lips curved into a small but proud smile. That was his boy, and he wasn't going to let anything take Alistair away from him.

***

"I renounce my wish!" You had heard his voice, but only in dreams. Usually, it was soft like velvet, sweet like honey, but this time, you had awoken in a cold sweat. You pulled the blankets over your body as a chill raced down your spine. You felt his pain, his anguish and hurt. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before. Your scream alerted your mother who raced to your bedside with intentions to comfort you.

"Another nightmare?" Your mother Hesita asked you with concern. She smoothed out your hair as you wiped a tear away from your eye.

"It was him," you whispered, your voice shaky. "He needs me. I know it."

"You have found your calling?" Hestia quizzed, her voice merely above a whisper as she gazed into your eyes. You nodded slowly, never feeling more sure about anything in your life. "How do you know?"

"It is my duty," you replied softly as you looked past the skylight and amongst the stars. "Zeus made me the goddess of home and hearth for this very reason."

"But what makes him so special?" Your mother wondered out loud, her hand sliding into yours knowing that this would be your final night in her company.

"I don't know." you huffed with a tired shrug of your shoulders. It was true: you genuinely didn't know why you had been hearing his voice, letting his words and whispers haunt you over and over again. He consumed your every thought— this mysterious voice from the world of man.

"I renounce my wish!" those four words replayed in your mind like a broken record as you tried to figure out what exactly they meant. But it didn't matter. You felt his heartache. You felt his pain. And now? You were coming for him.

#max lord x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #ww84 #wonder woman 1984

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years

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Honey, Flowers and Pinky Promises - Fred Weasley

Title: Honey, Flowers and Pinky Promises Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred denies himself the one thing he wants most in life, a future with Y/N, to keep her safe. So, what’s he to do 5 years later when she reappears in his life, safe from harm and with their future together already started. A/N: For the anon who wanted Fred breaking up with the reader before he leaves school, only to find out she gave birth to his kids a few years later! This was actually a very cute idea and very fun to write! As always feedback is appreciated and requests are open!!

tag list: @pandaxnienke @feltondarling (send a message if you'd like to be added!)

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“Everything is all set,” George says quietly as he takes a seat next to Fred at dinner. “I figured out where our brooms are, and I found the spell we’ll need to get them out of the enchantments Umbridge has them locked up with.”

Fred hums and nods absentmindedly, not really paying attention to what George is saying. He’s too busy watching Y/N. She’s sitting a few seats away with her friends, laughing at something one of them has said. Y/N looks absolutely gorgeous and carefree, and Fred’s heart pounds in his chest as he watches her.

“Everything all set on your end?” George asks, nudging Fred.

“Almost,” he responds. When George smacks him upside the head Fred finally turns to glare at him. “What the hell was that for?” he asks, rubbing at the spot George’s hand hit.

“I did all the hard stuff! All you had to do was pack the bags and set up the swamp for us to set off,” George scolds. “We leave tomorrow, Fred!”

Fred rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I was talking about git.” He turns in his seat so he can look at Y/N again. “Bags are set and so is the prank.”

“Oh,” George says softly, feeling stupid. He follows Fred’s gaze and frowns. “You haven’t told Y/N yet?”

“No,” he admits. “She’s not going to like what I have to say so I’ve been putting it off for a few days to get as much time with her as possible.”

“I thought Y/N supported the whole joke shop thing?” George asks, his confusion evident in his tone. “There’s only two months of school left, I can’t imagine she’ll be that mad.”

Fred bites his lip and tears his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at George. “It’s not the joke shop she’s going to be mad about.” Fred swallows thickly. “It’s the fact that I’m going to break up with her that’s going to upset her.”

“What?” George asks in shock as his eyes widen. “You’re joking right?” When Fred doesn’t move George hits him. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Fred whispers, hanging his head. “It’s for the best.”

George nudges Fred so he’ll look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re madly in love with her and she’s madly in love with you, how can breaking up with her be a good thing?” George leans forward to whisper in Fred’s ear. “You’ve talked about marrying her, Fred. What changed?”

“The world has changed, George,” Fred says suddenly, scaring his brother. “Percy disowning us, us joining the Order, our family being a target for You-Know-Who and the death eaters. I can’t bring her into that, I can’t risk her life like that.” Fred clenches his fist. “I love her too much to let her get hurt.”

“So, you’re going to break up with her, to keep her safe?” George asks, trying to understand Fred’s point of view.

“I know it seems weird but it’s the only way that I can keep her safe. Even if it kills me to do it,” Fred sighs. He lets himself look at Y/N again, and his heart breaks when she returns his gaze and smiles at him warmly.

“Freddie,” Y/N greets as she takes the last few steps down the staircase and into the common room. It’s well past midnight, and Fred had left Y/N a note to meet him downstairs. She moves over to him quickly and sits next to him on the couch. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you this week.”

Fred resists his urge to cuddle her close and leans in to kiss her briefly. “Sorry, love. Been busy doing stuff with George,” he lies. Truthfully Fred has been distancing himself from her over the past few days. He knows breaking up with her is for the best, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Y/N is like a drug to him, the more he’s around her the more he craves her touch and her presence. If he allowed himself to spend every waking moment with her like he desired he’d never get the nerve to end it.

“Joke shop stuff?” Y/N asks excitedly and when Fred nods she smiles at him. “I’m so proud of you, Freddie. You’re working so hard on all that stuff with George, and I just know you guys are going to make it big.”

“Thanks, love,” Fred says quietly, praying that his voice doesn’t crack. He leans forward and presses a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead, taking a deep breath in. She smells like honey and flowers and Fred thinks it’s the most comforting scent in the world. Normally it would make all the stress leave his body, but tonight it punches a hole in his chest.

Y/N pulls away from Fred and cups his cheek so she can make him look her in the eyes. “What’s wrong, Fred?” The use of his actual name knocks the air out of Fred’s lungs. He’s always Freddie to her, unless they’re talking about something serious. “You’re not acting like yourself. What’s going on?”

Fred moves away from Y/N further down the couch, and he puts his hand up to stop her from following him. “We need to talk about something.” He can feel tears forming in the back of his eyes and he blinks furiously, trying to keep them at bay. “We can’t, we can’t see each other anymore. Be together anymore.”

“What?” Y/N asks, her voice cracking. Tears spring to her eyes and start to slowly wander down her cheeks as confusion and sadness start to flow through her veins. At dinner just that evening Y/N had mentioned to her friends that she suspected Fred was going to propose after graduation, and just a few hours later he’s shattering her heart into a million pieces.

“I’m breaking up with you, Y/N,” Fred says clearer, his bottom lip trembling. “We’re done. Over with. I can’t be with you anymore.”

Y/N sobs and when she reaches out to grab Fred he stands up quickly. “Don’t do this Fred, please. I thought everything was okay with us. What went wrong? I can fix it Fred, please.” She wipes away some of her tears, but fresh ones just keep replacing them when she looks into Fred’s cold, emotionless face. “I love you Fred. Don’t you love me too?”

Fred closes his eyes, so he doesn’t have to look at the pure heartbreak on Y/N’s face. He loves her more than life itself, and that’s why he has to do this. “I don’t love you anymore,” he says coldly, opening his eyes to look Y/N in hers. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, before turning around and heading up to his dorm, the echoes of Y/N’s sobs following behind him.

Y/N doesn’t think much of it when her period doesn’t arrive like it’s supposed to three days after Fred and George leave school. She just had her heart broken by the boy she thought would be her forever, so it makes sense to her when she misses it completely. And when she starts to feel lethargic and has random nausea spells in the following few weeks Y/N attributes it to stress; her chest still aches with the thought of Fred and NEWTS are coming up.

Y/N doesn’t start to panic that it may be something more until she misses another period. Her chest still feels empty without Fred, but she’s just graduated and she’s excited for her life to continue on. But the nausea is still there, and her ankles have started to swell, and she can’t help but notice that her boobs are sore pretty much all day every day. When she wakes up one morning and the smell of her mother cooking eggs sends her heaving into the toilet, Y/N can’t deny what she’s known deep down for weeks. She takes a test that afternoon and confirms her fears.

Pregnant.

Her parents are upset when she tells them the next day, and they urge her to send an owl to Fred immediately. By this point it’s no secret to anyone what Fred and George are up to, their joke shop has been open for weeks now and is the talk of the wizarding world. Y/N has often thought about heading to Diagon Alley to check up on Fred, but she always resists those urges. Fred was her first thought when she saw that little pink plus sign, but she can’t bring herself to tell him. Fred clearly didn’t want her to be a part of his future, and she’s not sure she’s ready to let him be a part of this future with her.

Y/N is 10 weeks along when her mother escorts her to her first doctors’ appointment, and to no one’s surprise its twins. Up until this point her parents had been adamant that she consider adoption as well, but as soon as the doctor announces its twins, Y/N’s decision to become a mother is solidified. These babies are going to be the perfect combination of her and Fred, her last connection to the boy she still loves.

Y/N gets a job doing copywrite work for the daily prophet, and a hefty inheritance from her grandfather allows Y/N to move to a cute brownstone in London when she’s eight months pregnant. She avoids Diagon Alley like the plague, too afraid of running into Fred or George. Her family and friends try and convince her to reach out to Fred, and Y/N really does try. She has dozens of unsent letters in a box under her bed, dating all the way back to the day she found out she was pregnant. Y/N thinks about sending them often, but her stomach lurches each time she tries to.

She gives birth to a perfect, healthy baby boy and an equally perfect and healthy baby girl on a snowy day in December. Y/N names her son Phoenix, to match the fiery red hair that’s already sprouting out of his tender head. And she names her daughter Electra, to match her bright eyes and to remind Y/N that she and her brother are the light at the end of a very dark road. They both remind her so much of Fred, and it makes her journey into parenthood harder than she thought it would be.

The war is tough on everyone, but Y/N manages to survive it. It’s hard, raising two children alone during the darkest times anyone has seen, but it builds her confidence in her parenting abilities. She falls in love with herself and being a mother, and it only strengthens the bond she has with the twins. They’re without a doubt the best thing that has ever happened to her and watching them grow swells her chest with pride. In the blink of an eye the twins are 4, and the world Y/N had created for them suddenly comes crashing down.

“Damn,” Y/N mutters to herself as she examines the jar that usually holds Abraxan hair. “Forgot to get more.” She’s not the best at potion making, but she had found one in her youth that will temporarily change the color of your hair, and Electra had woken up that morning with the desire to turn her fiery red locks purple.

“Mummy said a bad word,” Phoenix teases, kicking his legs excitedly.

Y/N turns around and playfully rolls her eyes at the twins. They’re sitting at the table gobbling down pancakes as per usual. While they both sport the same red hair as their father, Phoenix is the spitting image of Fred, and it used to make Y/N’s heart ache. But it’s been almost 5 years since Fred broke her heart, and the pain no longer lingers. Electra takes after Y/N, her soft features and eyes nearly identical to her own. Unfortunately for Y/N they both inherited Fred’s love for pranks and jokes, and she finds herself collapsing into bed every night exhausted from the mischief they create.

“That’s because Mummy is allowed to say bad words,” Y/N teases. She puts out the fire beneath the cauldron she’d been brewing her potion in before taking a seat at the table with her kids. “We’re going to have to run into Diagon Alley after breakfast. I need to stock up on some things to make your potion, Ellie.”

“So, you can say shit, but we can’t?” Ellie pouts, putting her fork down.

“Hey!” Y/N says, trying not to laugh. “What did I just say? Bad words are for adults to use during the appropriate situation. They’re not for little kids to say at the breakfast table.”

“That’s so not fair,” Phoenix sighs, putting his fork down as well. “How old do we have to be to be adults?”

Y/N takes a sip of her coffee, shaking her head. “Older than 4 I can tell you that.”

“Five then?” Electra asks excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

Y/N gives both twins a look that makes them burst out into a fit of giggles. “Hurry up and finish your breakfast or we’ll never make it to Diagon Alley before it gets crowded.”

45 minutes later Y/N apparates into Diagon Alley, a twin holding each hand. Normally she avoids taking the twins with her whenever she needs to shop, fearful that Fred may be lurking around every corner. But she just needs to grab a few things, and it’s early enough that most of the stores are closed, and when Y/N looks over her shoulder it seems that Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes is no exception.

“Here come on. We just need to grab a few things and then we’ll go home, and I’ll be able to put the potion in your hair, sound good?” Both twins nod excitedly and Y/N smiles at them. “And no running away!” she adds with a laugh, before pulling them both into the store behind her.

“There were just the cutest little red head twins outside,” Verity calls dreamily from her place in the front window. They’re still a few minutes from opening, so she’s waiting by the door for it to be time to unlock it.

Fred comes down the last few steps from his flat into the shop, fixing his tie. He comes to stand next to Verity, peering out the window with her. “Really? George and I better watch out, they may try and steal out thunder,” he jokes.

It’s started to barely snow when the door to the Potion supply store just down the road swings open, and two little kids with fiery hair are running out to twirl around in the snow. Fred goes to say something, but his mouth runs dry when someone else follows the kids out. “Y/N?” he asks, almost unable to believe what he’s seeing. He hasn’t seen her in almost five years, and his heart has started to pound in his chest.

“You know her?” Verity asks, watching as Y/N chases the two little kids around in the snow.

Fred nods, almost unable to believe what he’s seeing. Y/N is there in front of him and Fred’s blood runs cold as he watches the little girl run into Y/N’s arms. “Hey Verity. How old do you reckon those kids are?” Fred has a few nieces, but he’s absolute shit at telling how old kids are.

Verity hums, watching them closely. “I’d say anywhere from 4 to maybe 6? It’s kinda hard to tell through the window but they’re definitely no younger than 3.” Fred makes a noise from behind her, and she turns to look at him. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Fred just stands there, unable to form a coherent sentence as his brain puts the pieces together. Not only is Y/N out there with two young children, they both have fiery red hair that looks quite like his, and their approximate age makes it very likely that Y/N could have been pregnant with them during their last year when he broke up with her.

Before Fred has truly processed the fact that those very well might be his children playing in the snow, he’s throwing the door to the joke shop open and heading out into the cold. Both of the kids are giggling like crazy, and it makes Fred’s knees quiver as he approaches. “Y/N!” Fred calls when he’s only a few feet away.

Y/N freezes at the sound of her voice being called by someone far too familiar. She grabs a hand of each twin and pulls them close to her side as she stands up. “Fred,” she says flatly, looking up at him. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest, and she can’t help but look Fred up and down. He looks older, more mature, but still so familiar to Y/N.

“What are you? What is? Who are?” Fred stutters as he tries to find just the right words.

He lets his eyes wander from Y/N’s face down to the two little kids standing at her side. Both of their cheeks are flushed red from the cold, and as Fred looks at the little girl there’s no denying that she’s Y/N’s daughter. Her eyes are the same color as her mother’s, and her cheeks have the same roundness. He looks to the other child then, and his jaw nearly drops. It’s as if he’s looking at a baby photo of himself that his mother has hanging on the walls of the Burrow. The little boy has the same brown eyes as Fred, and an almost identical freckle pattern splashed across his cheeks. If there was any doubt in Fred’s mind before it’s gone now. There is no denying that he’s the father of these children.

“Mummy,” Electra asks, tugging on Y/N’s hand. She waits for her mother to look at her before she continues. “Who is that?” she asks, pointing towards Fred.

Y/N swallows thickly and squats down so she’s eyelevel with the kids. “That’s Mummy’s friend Fred, from school. I’ve told you about him and his brother, George. Remember?” She gestures behind Fred, towards the shop. “They own the joke store where Papa buys all those little things for you two to prank me with.”

Both twins giggle at that, looking at Fred with awe. He can barely believe the words he’s hearing, and he’s frozen in place. The little boy lets go of Y/N’s hand and takes a few steps towards Fred and holds his hand out.

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Fred,” Phoenix greets. When Fred tentatively bends down and shakes his little hand, he smiles. “I’m Phoenix and that,” he pauses so he can turn back to point at his sister. “Is my baby sister, Electra.”

“Only by 5 minutes!” Electra shouts, running towards her brother. Phoenix takes off then, and Fred watches as they chase each other around in the snow, the wind blowing through their hair and both of them laughing like crazy.

“They just turned four, in December,” Y/N says as she stands up.

Fred tears his gaze away from them so he can look at Y/N. “How could you not tell me?”

Y/N shrugs and looks away from Fred’s intense stare. “You made it pretty clear that I had no place in your life or in your future, I didn’t want to go through that again. And I didn’t want to share them with you, if I’m honest.”

“Share them with me?” Fred asks, trying to contain his anger. “They’re my kids Y/N. Not some stupid toy.”

“Obviously I know that, Fred,” Y/N sneers with a glare. “But I was barely 18 when I found out I was pregnant, and I’d just had my heart shattered out of nowhere by the guy I thought I was going to marry. So, excuse me for not running right to you. I was freaking out when I found out I was pregnant and being rejected by you for a second time wasn’t high on my list of priorities.”

“I still deserved to know,” Fred responds, less angry. He hadn’t of even thought about that. Of course, Y/N would have been scared and unwilling to come to him. He still can’t think about the night he ended things without getting emotional, and he can’t imagine how it felt for Y/N, especially finding out she was pregnant only a few months later.

“I know, I know,” Y/N admits sadly. They both just look at each other for a moment, the twins still running in circles around them.

“Where do we go from here? I can’t just pretend they don’t exist,” Fred says quietly. “I want to be in their lives, Y/N. I need to be.” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But there’s things we need to talk about. About that night, the things I said to you. Can we do that, please?”

Y/N nods and reaches into her bag for a spare piece of parchment and a pen. She scribbles something down and reaches out to hand it to Fred. “Here’s my address. Come by tonight? The kids go down at 8 so come any time after that, we won’t have to worry about any little ears listening in.”

Fred grabs the piece of parchment, letting his hand linger on Y/N’s for just a moment. The contact sends a shiver down his spine and Fred thinks his heart might just beat out of his chest. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Great.” Y/N calls both kids back to her, and they each wave at Fred before taking their mother’s hand and apperating away.

“Mummy?” Electra asks that evening as Y/N is getting her and her brother ready for bed. The twins are standing on little stools and brushing their teeth while Y/N runs a comb through their freshly washed hair.

“Yes, my love?” Y/N responds, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

“When can we see your friend again?” Electra asks once she’s spat her toothpaste foam into the sink. “The one from today?”

Y/N bites her lip and starts to braid Electra’s hair. “You mean Fred?” Electra nods as best she can and Phoenix nods excitedly next to her. “You guys like Fred?”

“He’s so tall!” Phoenix muses with a giggle. “You think I’m ever gonna be that tall, Mummy?”

Despite the fact that they’re the same age, Phoenix is already a few inches taller than Electra. He clearly takes after Fred, so Y/N is sure that he’ll end up being just as tall as his dad. “I think you might be, bud.”

“And he’s got red hair like us!” Electra adds with a giggle. “I’ve never met anyone with red hair before.”

“Well your hair isn’t red right now,” Y/N teases as she wraps a hair tie around the end of Electra’s braid. Her potion making was successful, and for the next few days Electra’s hair will be a soft purple color. “Can I tell you guys something crazy?” Both of the twins turn so they can look at Y/N and nod happily. “Everyone in Fred’s family has red hair.”

“No way!” Electra and Phoenix gasp at the same time.

“Everyone?” Phoenix asks in awe.

Y/N nods and reaches out to ruffle his still damp hair. “Every single one. And you guys have something else in common with Fred too.”

“What is it? What is it? What is it?” Electra asks excitedly, bouncing on her stool.

“Fred is a twin too,” she says with a laugh, pressing a kiss to Electra’s forehead. “His brother George that he runs his store with is his identical twin.”

Phoenix hops off of his stool so he can come over and hug Y/N’s leg. “Wicked. So, we can see him again?”

“Maybe, sweetheart. I’m not sure yet,” Y/N says honestly. Fred wants to be in their lives, but they still have so many unresolved issues. The last thing she wants to do is get their hopes up only for Fred to be gone just as quickly as he came.

Electra wraps her arms around Y/N’s middle and hugs her close. “Please Mummy,” she begs, looking up at her with wide eyes. “He seemed really nice. And he was really cute!”

“Electra,” Y/N laughs. “That’s enough out of you. Fred is my friend and I won’t be having any talk like that.”

“Do you think he’s cute?” Phoenix teases, looking up at Y/N with a cheeky grin.

He looks so much like Fred in that moment, and it nearly knocks the breath out of her lungs. “You two are crazy. It’s time for bed, monkeys. Let’s go.”

“That wasn’t a no!” Electra shouts as she jumps from her stool and follows her brother out of the bathroom.

Y/N has just come down the stairs from putting the kids to bed when there’s a soft knock at the door. She sighs as she looks around at the mess her living room as turned into. Y/N planned on cleaning up a bit before Fred arrived, but it took forever to calm the twins down after their conversation in the bathroom. She’d had to read them two stories and admit she thought Fred was cute before they would drift off.

“Hey, come on in,” Y/N greets as she pulls the door open for Fred. This is the first time she’s seen him up close, and he’s just as handsome as she remembers. Y/N tries to calm her heartbeat down as she shuts the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. The twins have just started getting their magic and it’s hard to keep up with them.”

Both Electra and Phoenix had started to exhibit signs of magic just after their fourth birthday, and ever since they’ve been more chaotic than usual. If Y/N didn’t know any better she would think that they somehow have managed to already control what little magic they have, because it always seems like they’re working together to cause as big of a mess as possible.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fred says as Y/N waves her wand, watching as things fly back into place. “George and I gave Mum a run for her money, so I’d expect nothing less from my children.” The words feel funny in his mouth. His children. As exciting as the idea of being a dad is, Fred would be lying if he said he also wasn’t scared shitless.

“Can I get you something? Wine? Firewhiskey? Tea?” Y/N asks, gesturing for Fred to take a seat on the couch.

Fred sits down slowly, watching Y/N fidget. “Most people assume I drink coffee.”

“Well I’m not most people,” Y/N responds, flushing slightly.

“You’re not wrong about that,” Fred says quietly. “I’m alright, Y/N. Thanks though.”

Y/N nods and sits down next to Fred, making sure to keep a good amount of distance between them. “So,” she starts, looking over at Fred. “Where do we even begin?”

“I don’t have any idea,” Fred answers truthfully. “I never really thought I’d ever be having a conversation like this. There’s so much I wanna say to you. And stuff I wanna ask you. But I have no idea where to start.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Can I ask you a question?” When Fred nods she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself. There are things she needs to know the answer to, no matter how much it hurts. “Why did you break up with me? It came out of nowhere, for me at least. One minute we were talking about building a life together and the next, you were gone.”

“There was a lot of stuff going on, with my family,” Fred starts, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “My parents were a part of this secret society founded by Dumbledore to fight Voldemort called the Order of the Phoenix. And just before Christmas break my dad was almost killed by Voldemort’s snake during a mission.”

“Fred,” Y/N says softly, fighting her urge to reach out and grab his hand. “How come you never told me any of this?”

“I wasn’t allowed to, Dumbledore’s orders. But going through all that, it made me think about stuff. About me and you and life outside of Hogwarts. George and I decided that we would join the Order once we left school, and I couldn’t put your life in jeopardy like that, Y/N. Our family was being targeted by death eaters and followed around. I knew it would only get worse as time went on. And if you had gotten hurt because of me, I would never be able to forgive myself,” Fred pauses, running a hand through his hair. “So, when George and I decided to leave school early to start the shop, I decided it would be best to end things with you. That’s the only way I knew to keep you safe.”

“So, you didn’t just randomly stop loving me?” Y/N asks meekly.

“God no,” Fred answers immediately. “Y/N I loved you more than life itself. If I knew you were pregnant, or you came and told me I would have grabbed you and ran as far away from Voldemort as possible. It killed me to lie to you like that, but I wanted you to be safe and happy, even if it meant that it wasn’t with me.”

Y/N goes to respond, but she lets out a groan when the phone rings. “Probably my Mum, I’ll be right back. If I don’t answer she’ll just show up and I don’t think either of us wants that.”

Fred laughs as Y/N walks away, unable to stop himself from watching. Having children has done great things to her body, and he can’t help but appreciate it. He’s thinking about how beautiful she still is when the sound of soft pattering on the stairs catches his attention.

“Fred?” Electra asks, her lower lip wobbling as tears streak down her face. “Where’s my Mummy?”

“She’s in the kitchen. Do you want me to go get her?” Electra shakes her head, and before Fred can process what’s happening she’s heading towards him with her arms outstretched. Without hesitation Fred picks her up and places her in his lap. Her little legs wrap around his middle and she tucks her arms into her chest before resting her head on his shoulder. Fred’s hands shake as he hugs her to him tightly, one of his hands coming up to stroke her hair. “What’s wrong, Angel?”

“Bad dream,” she sniffles.

Fred’s heart melts as she snuggles in closer, and he starts to slowly rub her back. “It’s alright, Angel. You’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.” He presses his cheek to the top of her head and inhales deeply, the familiar scent of honey and flowers overwhelming his senses. His chest aches as Electra, his daughter, cries, and he so desperately just wants to make her feel better. “I’m right here, Angel. Nothing’s going to hurt you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Promise?” Electra asks, pulling away to look at Fred.

Fred leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead. He’s aware that he’s probably breaking about 100 boundaries, but he can’t find it in his heart to care. His little girl is sitting in his lap crying and he’s going to make sure she knows he cares for her. “Promise,” he answers, holding out his pinky finger.

Electra lets out a giggle and hooks one of her pinkies around Fred’s. “You have to keep it now, forever,” Electra reminds him, squeezing his pinky tight.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Fred presses another kiss to her forehead before he wipes away some of her tears. “Feeling better now?”

“Loads,” Electra confirms with a nod. She bites her lip, giving Fred a look. “Can I ask you a question?”

Fred chuckles. “Sure, Angel. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think my Mummy is pretty?” she asks, shocking Fred. “Because she thinks you’re cute.”

“Does she?” Fred asks in surprise. Of course, Fred had hoped Y/N would still find him attractive, and he hasn’t stopped thinking about her since this morning. He never imagined that he’d be reunited with Y/N so he never let himself imagine creating a future with her, but now she’s back in his life with his kids and Fred would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about what that could mean for them.

“Mhm, she told me and Phoenix before we went to bed.” Electra nudges him. “So, do you think she’s pretty?”

Fred smiles at her. “Don’t tell her, but I think your Mummy is absolutely gorgeous,” he tells her quietly.

Electra giggles excitedly and hugs Fred tightly. “I think you should ask her to be your girlfriend. Mummy’s never had a boyfriend even though Grandma keeps trying to give her one.”

“Oh?” Fred asks, raising his eyebrows at her. “And how do you know all this?”

“I can be real quiet when I want to be,” Electra answers, giving him a cheeky smile and a wink. “Papa thinks it’s because she’s still in love with our Daddy.”

Fred practically chokes on his saliva and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He can hear his heart pounding in his chest and his pulse is thrumming. “Do you know a lot? About your Daddy?” he asks, unable to stop the question from coming out.

Electra shakes her head. “Mummy doesn’t talk about him a lot. Only if Phoenix and I ask. She tells us stories sometimes and talks about how funny and kind he is. And that they loved each other tons. But that’s it.”

“Does it make you sad? That you don’t know a lot about him?” Fred asks. This is definitely not an appropriate conversation to have with a four-year-old, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“Sometimes,” Electra answers with a shrug. “I love Mummy so so much and she’s the best Mummy in the world. But I think it would be nice, to have my Daddy around too. And I think it would make her happier too.”

“What would make who happier?” Y/N asks as she comes back into the room.

“Nothing. I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Electra answers, winking at Fred.

Y/N crosses her arms and gives the girl a look. “What are you doing out of bed, Ellie?”

“I had a bad dream. But it’s okay, Fred made me feel better.”

“Well that was very nice of Fred to do,” Y/N says quietly. “But since you’re feeling better I guess you can get back in to bed now, hm?”

“I guess,” Electra pouts. “Can I ask you a question first?” she asks, holding her arms out for Y/N to pick her up.

“I suppose,” Y/N answers, picking her up and settling her on her hip.

“How come you lied to us? Before bed you said you didn’t know if we’d see Fred again, but here he is, sitting on our couch.” Electra’s tone is stern, and her eyes are narrowed at Y/N.

Y/N laughs. “I never said I wasn’t going to see Fred again. I said I wasn’t sure you and your brother were going to see Fred again.” Electra frowns at that and Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead. “Now say goodnight to Fred.”

“Goodnight, Fred,” Electra grumbles as Y/N starts to head back up the stairs.

“Goodnight, Angel,” Fred says back with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry about her,” Y/N says as she comes back down the stairs a few minutes later. “I hope she didn’t say anything too crazy.”

“Nothing too bad,” Fred reassures with a laugh. “Though she did mention she’s quite the eavesdropper, so I’d keep an eye on her.”

Y/N groans as she flops onto the couch. “She told you about the boyfriend thing then?” When Fred nods she groans again, her cheeks heating up. “It’s all she’s talked about for weeks, literally anyone that will listen to her gets to hear about the fact that I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I think it’s cute,” Fred insists. “She clearly loves you a lot and just wants you to be happy.” Fred bites his lip. “How come you don’t date? If you don’t mind me asking. Electra has theories but I’d like to hear from you.”

“Of course, she does,” Y/N says with a laugh. “Truthfully, I’ve never had the desire to date anyone else. I always say it’s because the kids are young, and I don’t want to confuse them or bring people around them, but I have gone on a few dates here and there. No one ever feels like the right fit. We were together for so long that everything just always seemed so natural between us. Like we always knew what the other was thinking. Trying to date other people just feels weird, and artificial.”

Fred nods, running a hand through his hair. “I feel you. I’ve had my fair share of failed relationships over the past few years. I think the longest one lasted maybe three months?” he sighs. “I realized I kept trying to recreate what we had with every girl I dated and it’s not fair to them. What we had was special. Irreplaceable.”

Y/N watches Fred for a moment. Before today she had been positive she moved on from Fred, he hardly occupied her thoughts anymore and her chest would only occasionally ache. But after seeing him today, finding out the truth about what happened that night. She can’t help but notice that feelings for Fred she buried long ago have started to rise up again with full force.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone right now?” Y/N asks quietly.

Fred shakes his head and turns so he’s facing Y/N fully. “No, and I haven’t been for quite a while.” He looks her up and down, trying to decide what to say next. “But there is this woman, who I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I saw her today.”

“Oh?” Y/N asks coyly, subtly moving a bit closer to Fred.

“Yeah. And just a few minutes ago her daughter was telling me how cute her Mum thinks I am, and that I should be her boyfriend.” Fred smirks as Y/N’s cheeks flush red. “And I couldn’t help but tell her daughter just how breathtakingly beautiful I find her Mother.”

Instead of responding, Y/N chooses to be bold and she grabs the front of Fred’s shirt, pulling him into a slow kiss. Their lips move together just as perfectly as they always have, making it seem like no time has passed between them at all. Y/N moans as Fred deepens the kiss, letting him pull her onto his lap.

“You’re incredible,” Fred pants as they pull away. He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much, Y/N. You have no idea.”

“I’ve missed you too, Freddie.” Y/N buries her face in Fred’s neck, letting him hug her close. They sit there in silence for a few moments, just enjoying being together again.

“How should we tell them?” Fred asks, breaking the silence. “About who I really am? I’m okay, with being just your friend Fred for a bit while we figure everything out. That might make it easier.”

Y/N pulls away and gingerly grabs Fred’s face. “You deserve to be in their life as their dad and they deserve to have you in their life that way too. I thought seeing you with them would fill me with jealousy but honestly, seeing you with Electra, it made my heart burst with happiness. And Phoenix would not shut up about you before bed, it was actually really cute.”

Fred chuckles. “They’re just like their Mum, can’t resist my charm.”

Y/N flicks Fred on the nose and then kisses the same spot. “I’ve been thinking about how to tell them throughout the day and I think I have a good idea. All you have to do is come by again tomorrow, around 8 again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” Fred murmurs, before pulling Y/N into another heated kiss.

“Alright guys, it’s time to start getting ready for bed,” Y/N says as she walks into Electra’s room the next night. Both kids groan and turn to pout at their mother.

“Five more minutes,” Phoenix begs.

“Please, Mummy!” Electra adds.

“You can have five more minutes.” When both of them cheer Y/N puts a finger up to quiet them down. “Or we can start getting ready for bed right now and you’ll get a special bedtime treat. Which would you prefer?”

Phoenix and Electra look at each other for a moment before they drop the toys they’d been holding and run past Y/N into the bathroom.

“Is the special bedtime treat that we get to sleep in bed with you?” Phoenix asks thirty minutes later as he snuggles into Y/N’s pillows.

“Not quite, it’s even better than that,” Y/N responds as she helps Electra on to the bed. She drops to her knees then and grabs a medium sized shoe box before standing back up.

“What’s in the box?” Electra asks as Y/N climbs into bed and settles in between her and Phoenix.

“Well,” Y/N starts, letting her hand slowly drag over the top. “There’s a few different things in here. When I first found out you two were growing in my belly, I started writing letters to your Dad. But I was too scared to send them, so I kept them all in here.”

“Are you going to read them to us?” Phoenix asks softly.

Y/N shakes her head. “Not tonight. There are a few other things in here I want to show you. Inside this box along with all of those letters, is all the pictures I have of your Dad and I from when we were at school together.”

“We get to see them?” Electra asks excitedly.

“Mhm,” Y/N confirms with a nod. “You guys are getting older now and it’s time you know a bit more about him.” Y/N slowly lifts the lid of the box and grabs the small stack of photos on top. She takes a peek at the first one, before holding it out for both of them to see. “This is from our seventh year, we were walking down to Hogsmeade, the little village outside of school. And one of my friends took this picture of your Dad carrying me on his back.”

Electra and Phoenix’s eyes roam over the photo. Fred isn’t very visible in the photo, just his red hair is visible over Y/N’s shoulder. This is one of Y/N’s favorite memories she has of Fred. She’d stubbed her toe just as they left the castle, and Fred had made a spectacle of it. He insisted on carrying her everywhere, no matter how many times Y/N demanded he put her down.

“Show us another one,” Phoenix requests quietly.

“This one is from our sixth year,” Y/N explains as she shows them the photo. “Hogwarts participated in something called the Triwizard Tournament, and there was this great big ball on Christmas.” The photo just captures Y/N and Fred’s side profiles, each of them smiling as Fred sways them side to side.

Electra frowns and her eyebrows knit together as she looks at the photo. “Hey, he looks kinda familiar,” she muses, looking up at Y/N. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

Phoenix pouts. “What? That’s not fair.”

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “Let me show you one more photo, okay?” She takes the next photo and holds it face down for a moment. “This one is just your dad. I took it in front of the black lake just a few weeks into our last year.” Y/N flips the photo over slowly, watching as both Electra and Phoenix focus on it intently.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that,” Electra starts.

“Fred!” Phoenix finishes excitedly. “So, Fred isn’t just your friend?”

“No baby,” Y/N says quietly, trying to keep her emotions in. “Fred was my boyfriend at school, and he’s your Dad.” Y/N pauses, and she hears the front door click shut. “And I think he just walked through the front door.” Both Phoenix and Electra squeal excitedly as they scramble off the bed and head towards the stairs. “Be careful!” Y/N shouts as she starts to follow them.

Fred has barely taken off his coat when he hears the sound of tiny little feet running towards him. He turns towards the stairs just in time to hold out his arms and catch Phoenix and Electra as they jump off the last few steps and into his chest. He wraps one arm around Phoenix and the other around Electra so he can hug them tightly.

“Hello to you too,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to each of their heads. He inhales deeply, overwhelmed once again by the scent of honey and flowers. “You guys miss me that much already? I just saw you yesterday,” Fred jokes, trying to hide how emotional he feels.

“Yeah but yesterday you were just Fred,” Electra giggles.

“Today you’re our Dad,” Phoenix adds with a laugh.

Fred laughs and puts them both down on the ground and crouches so he’s eye level with them. “Is that okay? That I’m your Dad?”

“Is it okay? It’s like the coolest thing ever!” Phoenix insists, hugging Fred again.

Fred returns his hug, rubbing his back. He holds his other arm out and looks at Electra. “What about you, Angel? It is okay with you?”

“Better than okay, Daddy,” Electra confirms, letting Fred hug her tightly.

Y/N comes down the stairs then, tears forming in her eyes as she watches Fred hold their children close. Phoenix is the first to notice her presence, and he pulls away from Fred so Y/N can pick him up.

“Why are you sad, Mummy?” he asks, wiping away a few of the tears that have started to stream down her cheeks.

“I’m not sad, baby,” Y/N insists. “Just really, really happy.”

Fred stands up then and picks up Electra, settling her on his hip. “Hi love,” he greets, leaning forward to kiss Y/N briefly.

Electra squeals in delight as their lips touch, and Phoenix pretends to gag, causing Fred and Y/N to laugh as they pull away.

“Does this mean we get to be a family? Forever?” Electra asks excitedly.

“Forever,” Fred confirms, kissing her on the forehead.

“Pinky promise?” she asks, holding her little pinky out.

Fred hooks his pinky around hers, gesturing for Phoenix and Y/N to do the same. “Promise.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fw #golden

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estrelio · 4 years

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Christmas, Early Mornings, and How to be Free

destiel december 2020 prompt: decorating | wc: ~1.3k

[READ ON AO3]

Dean often forgets that angels don’t sleep.

The soft knock at his door at—he checks his clock—four in the morning, however, serves as a gentle reminder.

He sits up, brushing off popcorn crumbs from his shirt, and blearily rubs his eyes. Dean hadn’t been sleeping, per se, but he was drunk and dog tired, eyes burning from staring at his TV for what must have been hours on end.

His door opens and light from the hallway streams in, bright like the white-hot burn of an angel being killed. Dean blinks once, twice, and there stands his own angel, a hand on the door knob.

“Sorry to wake you,” Cas mutters. “Ah, Jack and I were wondering if you were—if you wanted to help us with something.”

Dean looks at the clock again, more for show than to actually read the time, before redirecting his gaze back to Cas.

“It’s four in the morning, Cas.”

Cas shifts his weight. “I don’t—”

“You don’t sleep,” Dean finishes for him, already throwing the blanket off of himself. The wave of cool air over his calves where his sweats ride up make him shiver. He pulls the fabric down back over them and stands.

“Yeah, I know. And lucky for you, I barely do.” Dean comes to a stop in front of Cas. “What’s up?”

Cas pushes the door open and turns, leading the way for Dean to follow.

“Jack and I—we were discussing the bible,” Cas starts.

“As you do.”

“—And Jack was curious about how humans celebrate the birth of Christ.”

“Uh-huh.” They step through the kitchen and Dean eyes a half-eaten snack on the table. He quickly nicks it, gives it a once-over, and takes a bite. The taste of chocolate caramel nougat makes him let out a low groan of satisfaction.

Cas shoots him a glare over his shoulder. Dean shrugs.

“He told me you all celebrated it once,” Cas continues, “Along with some other holidays, though I can’t imagine how I managed to miss that. Anyway, he has friends in town that celebrate the christian Christmas, and now he’s got…um, ideas.”

Dean frowns. “What ideas?”

They round the corner into the library, where Dean’s confronted with several large boxes that are set on the nearest table. Scattered around them are various decorations like ornaments, tinsel, and what look to be Santa hats in a few different colors and patterns. Dean’s gaze pulls away from the mess to look at Jack, who has his arms elbow-deep into the box nearest to him. He smiles wide at Dean.

“You’re awake! Hey—is-is that…my candy bar?”

Dean looks down at the bar and stuffs what’s left of it in his mouth. He holds a finger up when Jack pouts, chewing until he can form words.

“Finders keepers, kid,” he swallows, “It’s a lesson you gotta learn while you’re still young. What are you doin’, anyway? What’s all this crap you’ve got out?”

Jack’s smile is back as he pulls out an ornament. “Christmas! I thought we’d decorate.”

Dean blinks at him. “Dude. Four in the morning.”

He hears Cas sigh and turns his attention to him instead. “I’m serious! You couldn’t have waited a couple more hours? And hey, wait a second—how come I’m up and Sam’s nowhere to be seen? This is, like, his usual wake up time.”

“It is,” Cas says, “He’s actually out on a jog right now, he said he’d be back to help with the baking.”

“The—” Dean runs a hand over his face, pressing briefly over his eyes to wake himself better. They’d already done Christmas this year, and all the other holidays, for that matter. Of course…

He opens his eyes.

Not with Cas.

Dean lets his arm drop back to his side and strides the few steps over to Jack, picking his favorite ornaments out of the box from when Mrs. Butters had first showed them to him. He hands a blue one over to Jack.

“Besides,” Jack studies the bulb, “We’re starting late. Christmas is only a week away, and I know people who start decorating in November!”

“We don’t even have the tree up yet,” Dean grumbles in feigned annoyance. “Hell, we don’t even have a tree.”

“Sure we do,” Jack says. He turns and points over at the table behind them. A small tree no more than 16 inches tall stands bare in the middle of the table.

Dean stares at it, eyes wandering over to Cas after a beat for an explanation. He’s standing on the other side of Jack, now, and catches Dean’s gaze.

“It’s fake,” Cas says, “We found it with the decorations. It’s…a substitute—at most—for now.”

Dean nods slowly. “Okay,” he accepts.

After that he finds the smallest bulbs that won’t take up too much space on the little thing, passing them to Cas who hands them to Jack to put on the tree. Working like clockwork, the tree is decorated sooner rather than later, and Dean straightens up in time to hear the front door open with a metal squeal.

Sam steps inside, closing the door behind him, and looks down at the three of them with a smile. He pulls an earbud out.

“Nice tree,” he says, clamoring down the stairs.

Dean, feeling strangely defensive, mutters, “Up yours,” and rifles through the box for something to fling at him. He comes up short, but Jack rids them of Sam as he bounds off to meet him in the kitchen, giddy to start on their baking as soon as possible.

Dean pulls out a Santa hat in the wake of it just being him and Cas in the room and, holding his breath, turns to place it on Cas’ head.

Cas stares as Dean slips it on, adjusting it here and there so it sits right, pulling away lest it becomes too...

Cas catches his arm before Dean can withdraw it.

“How...How come I get to wear the hat and you don’t?”

Dean chuckles, pulling lightly in an attempt to get out of Cas’ grip. Cas tightens his hold by a fraction.

“’Cause you look better in hats? I dunno,” Dean mumbles. He feels his heart racing, chances a glance over to the kitchen where he can hear Sam and Jack clanging baking supplies around while they set up to make the cookies.

His eyes meet Cas’ again, dropping momentarily to look at his lips before Dean forces them to stay on Cas’ baby blues.

“That’s not true,” Cas frowns, “You are very attractive for someone of your gender and age.”

Dean swallows hard, face warm. “Yeah?” His voice comes out higher than intended, so he clears his throat before speaking again. “Thanks.”

Cas lets go of his wrist, backing away a little. “You are welcome.”

They stare at each other, transfixed, and Dean thinks Cas looks more innocent with this hat on, more so than, say, that cowboy hat Dean had made him wear once. Almost silly enough for Dean to let his guard down, to lean forward, and—

Cas' breath ghosts over his cheek and chin in their newfound proximity, faces just a few inches apart.

Dean licks his lips, once, and closes the space between them. He presses his lips softly to Cas', trembling a little due to the action. It's chaste, and feels simultaneously like it lasts an eternity and only a few seconds—something Dean thinks only Cas is capable of doing.

And he knows, dazedly, that it's likely the latter, even if a lifetime was lived in this moment alone. Dean pulls back to stare at Cas like he just hung the stars rather than some simple plastic ornaments on a dingy fake Christmas tree, holding his breath as he gages Cas' reaction.

This close, Dean can see Cas' pupils blown wide. The angel has that look about him that Dean remembers seeing a long time ago, like a soldier with newfound freedom—unsure where to go or how to use it.

Dean licks his lips again, and though his hands are still shaking when he lifts them to cup Cas' face, he feels his mouth smooth into a smile.

He ducks his head to kiss Cas again. And again. And again, until they hear the shout that the cookies are ready, and Dean takes Cas' hand in his.

Freedom isn’t a length of rope, Dean thinks, but rather a red string, tying them together and guiding them home every time without fail. Maybe they could teach each other, this time—about Christmas, early mornings, and how to be free.

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#destiel december 2020 #another day another sucky ficlet sdhfsjdf soRRY #its hard for me to write fluff tbh bc i never know where im goin with it #destiel #rambleoncas writing #spn #supernatural #destiel fic #deancas #roc original #my post

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate (Birthday/Christmas Special)

Summary: Levi is bound to spend this birthday on his own, seeing that you're halfway across the globe as an exchange uni student. What he doesn't know though is that you have planned a huge surprise for him. NSFW 18+

Notes: sorry for any mistake you guyss please enjoy this

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: f l uff, nsfw

Warnings: nsfw, the sexies

Disclaimer: I do not own the gif, I simply found it on Pinterest.

White heavy cream fell fluidly out of the carton it was stored, squeezed by Levi's calloused hand and into the small metallic pot that he rested his other hand onto. The mixture, an aromatic, dark brown hot chocolate, lightened in color upon a few stirs of his tool. Slowly with his hand he disposed of the empty carton in the recycling bin, making sure to wipe any stray droplet of white on the counter.

He blinked as his mind went blank, forgetting the next step of the recipe but only momentarily. His thoughts once again traveled to what troubled him, but he continued with his stirring in fear of burning the beverage he was set on making. With his teeth sinking dangerously at the tip of his tongue what he needed clicked in his head. Corn flour. A quorter of a cup.

He didn't bother tasting the mixture as he lowered the fire of the stove to the minimum, he simply marched to the corner built in cupboard, hands searching furiously for the porcelain vase that held this oh so precious corn flour that would act as the stabilizing factor to his hot chocolate beverage.

Seconds later he brought the fire to an halt absurdly, never ceasing with his stirring careful as to not have the mixture stick to the pot. He didn't like his chocolate adorned with burnt flakes or the taste they brought to his mouth neither did he like cleaning the burnt pot before having to pop it in the washing machine. As his hands reached for the cups he had set beside the stove beforehand to his alchemy, he helped the thick mixture in with a spoon.

The cups were immediately transfered inside the over; an attempt to keep them from any predatory fly that could have entered the apartment before Levi had a chance to realise and in addition keeping them sheltered as they reached a drinkable temperature. Levi threw the pot into the sink next, sighing to himself as he grabbed his thick latex gloves and out them on his hands. With a twist of his hand at the handle the watered started running on his gloves hands pot making him grab his steel wool.

His hand came to his forehead, wiping some sweat as he sighed again, hanging his head low as he gritted his teeth in frustration. His eyes squinted in anger, his hands dug into the inox of his sink and his heart sink dangerously low as he felt the room run cold due to the sun quickly setting behind the horizon.

Why had he made that chocolate, it beat him. The two of you hadn't spoken in at least two days and he liked -or rather chose- to blame it on your busy studying schedule, rather than the fight the two of you had over that call two nights ago. He had been to angry to admit he was acting like a brat to you, he had been too proud to simply say that he wanted your attention, instead he had resolved his anger into grumpiness, causing your overworked mind to snap.

You were gone as an exchange student in Japan for too long and both your busy schedules and the enormous time difference had dug their ways into Levi's life very negatively. Before you he had never lonely when he was alone, but now, now that he had gotten a taste of what it was to be with you, now that you had been ripped away from him from so long, he definitely felt lonely. And angry. And it killed him that he was almost on time for your arranged video chat, when you didn't even show any sign of being in existence still.

It made his boil though, by now, it must have been the 26th in Japan and you had spent your day ignoring him, not even bothering to open his message. Had he been so cruel to you while admitting he wanted you here with him? Was it that you didn't have enough decency to let him you know you were alright? That was what he simply wanted to know, in the end.

Sighing again he ripped the gloves off his hands and grabbed his phone. His fingertip touching the button provided him immediate access to his homescreen and he quickly entered Instagram dragging the homepage down a couple of times to let it load any new activity. Internally he knew, he would have been glad if he was to see a story or a post by you, any sign that you were alright would do for him.

Of course, as if on cue to shake him of his miserable thoughts his phone rang, buzzing in his palm. His eyes fell on the small window the revealed the caller id to him. It was Erwin, naturally, as he always used to shower him with phone calls on his birthday even up until the moment he was at his front door. Levi didn't missed out on those signs of affection, it's was quite the opposite really. He cherished them deeply. Seeing how much of an impact he had on his friends' lives moved him whether he showed it or not.

And so, while holding back his saddened sigh he picked up the phone, greeting his friend through greeted teeth.

"Hey Levi, uhm, I kind of need you at the moment, am I interrupting anything?"

"No," Levi spoke, biting painfully on the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hold himself back from sprinting out on his frustration. Of course Erwin could try and hide behind his finger, Levi knew that much. The blond was aware he wasn't interrupting anything, but he was still kind enough to ask; he always was sappily kind when it came to such sensitive subjects.

"Great look, I'm on route twenty two, fifth exit, I'm out of gas can you please come to my rescue and bring me some?" Erwin paused for a moment and then proceeded to mumble through an overly amused breath "I'm sorry I'm doing this to you tonight."

"Did you take your father's run down car again?" Levi questioned.

"No... yes. I'm sorry Levi I felt like I wanted to drive his car tonight. I shouldn't have to drag you here too, I'm sorry."

"No it's fine," Levi bit back, hissing at Erwin's unhealthy habit of wanting to drive his father's antique due to its sentimental worth. But then again, he reminded himself he wasn't in a place to judge. "Give me 15 and I'll be there."

Fidgeting his fingers on the counter without throwing a second look he came in contact with his car keys. The familiar jiggling sound gritted through the air proudly as Levi pierced his finger inside the key loop, finally pressing the keys steady to his palm. With another grunt, he hang up the phone, bringing the device to the palm of his hand once again.

His mind begged him to open his texts with you again -his initial goal ever since the moment he opened his phone- just to stare at the screen or at his unopened text, his insides begged to boil with concern at the process but he figured had all night to do so, prolonging his misery could definitely wait now that Erwin was in need. And thus he simply marched to the hanger behind his front door, eager much to quickly get a hold of his warmest jacket before having to step out in the cold apartment corridor and consequentially outside in the cold December weather.

___

You forced Hange to suppress her giggles as you slipped the metallic key inside the lock to your shared apartment with Levi. With an exaggerated jump though Hange let out another scream fill the air, ignoring yet another playful rasped gaze you consequentially threw her. Laughter bubbled from the both of you as you kept on locking eyes, amused by the upcoming execution of your plan.

The plan was simple really. You had Erwin call Levi for any emergency he could come up with and only when he left the house you and Hange would sneak in, light up the aromatic candles you spent weeks picking. You would make some hot buttered rum and light the fireplace to warm up the house. Then, Hange would leave right when Erwin would call you to announce that Levi was on his way back and you'd wait for him with the biggest smile on your face.

"Okay now let's see how much time we have." You said and rubbed your hands together to warm them up. Leaning with one hand over the wall you moved the heel of your left foot on top of your right one, pressing down enough so you could wiggle your foot out of the shoe. Doing the same for your other foot, you removed your jacket and hung it behind the door.

"Erwin said it will take Levi about twenty minutes to get to him, they shall spend about ten to fifteen minutes fueling his car, but he promised he'd try his best to delay Levi if we need to. And then add another ten minutes for him to get back." Hange spoke, fixing her glasses onto her nose.

"You think I have enough time to take a bath?"

Making sure to slip her shoes off after you, Hange nodded in your direction and proceeded to set her heavy backpack on the couch. One by one she took the candles and a lighter out, eventually smirking to herself as she tried to come up with a plan on how to neatly set them around the living room.

"Hange!" Can you put those in the bedroom?" You spoke, ripping your shirt off of you before your finger came to graze the side of your mouth as your mind sunk in your thoughts.

"Ha!" Hange huffed "as if you're even going to make it to the bedroom!"

Your cheeks burned as she spoke, eyes widening slightly at how your mind told you she was completely right. Of course you and Levi wouldn't make it to the bedroom at least until later tonight. It had been months since you had last seen him and it was his birthday, you wouldn't even be able to rip yourself off of his arms. Thus you simply threw a mellow smile at Hange as you sprint to the kitchen checking to see if you had all the ingredients you'd need to make your choice of drink.

Coincidentally, you opened the oven and your eyes immediately fell on what was inside. Your expression softened as two grey toned cups shone in your orbs, the smell they emitted deliciously filling your nostrils. You smiled to your self as you thought about how your lover didn't miss out on making your traditional Christmas drink.

It was unbelievable how kind hearted Levi was, in contrary to what people thought of him, you thought. Most of the times -and simply because he didn't allow otherwise- the only thing people who weren't close to him saw was a cold demeanor, a sharp tongue and a foul mouth. It all would be too ironic if they knew how Levi was behind closed doors. Taking notice of small everyday details, sticking to his beloved routine, cherishing moments with his loved ones, remembering everything most people would ignore about others and showing his love in the sweetest yet most Levi way were only a few of his virtues.

Of course he wouldn't miss on making your favorite strawberry scented thick hot chocolate, even if you had spent the last few days not speaking to him, even if as of now he remained ignorant as to why. You assumed he believe it was about that ridiculous fight and you could admit you purposefully riled him just enough for him not to expect to see you. You were sure, seeing he had shown a previous liking in surprises like this, that his jaw would hit the floor when he'd see you.

Guilt rushed through you at the thought of you making him feel miserable even in the slightest, but Hange couldn't just have you standing there, sulking in your anxiety over how things had led up to this moment. If you wanted to make it in time for when Levi came home you'd have to rush. Hange insisted on shooing you out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, urging you to act fast, before Levi came. Sensing she was right, you settled for running to retrieve a new pair of underwear and a clean towel before jumping in the shower.

Stretching your arms to close the curtain behind you as you stepped on the white marble tiles you twisted the faucet handle to the right, letting a deep sigh escape from the depths of your chest as the hot water started running.

___

The sound of keys jiggling together filled what should have been an empty apartment, making Levi's arrival known only to you who stood inside the kitchen. He stepped inside a few seconds later, ripping his shoes off of his feet before slipping into his fuzzy slippers.

His hands immediately reached for the wipes and rubbing alcohol he kept on a stand right next to the door, silently grabbing a wipe and coating it in the strong smelling disinfectant before bringing it to his phone and keys. He spent a good minute cleaning the items meticulously only stopping when he felt satisfied to set them on the stand. He took a step to turn around with his goal to walk to the kitchen and heat up his got chocolate. Judging by the time he could still try to reach out to you before the day ended.

With a quick glance around the room, though he found himself freezing in his spot.

"Great, now I'm so shit mad I'm seeing fucking things." Levi announced -seemingly only to his own self- the moment he laid his gray orbs upon you.

"No Levi, you're not seeing things baby."

Standing up for your seat on the kitchen table you shot him an adorning look; your eyes squinted and your cheeks puffed up, coated in a sheer scarlett color. You silently watched as his eyes grew impossibly wide, flickering between you and each lit candle that showered the room in plenty of romantic golden light.

His legs were slightly trembling, his knees going weak at the sudden need to intake all of what was unraveling before him, but with his heart hammering in his whole body he only managed to part his lips before even beginning to thing if what to utter.

"Merry Christmas and happy birthday my Vee." You smiled again, mouthing the tooth rotting sweet nickname as you walked to him with open arms and a longing look on your face.

He wasted no time, even if his head was starting to buzz in confusion and uncertainty, he bucked in his stand before sprinting towards you. His hands quickly wrapped under your bum, lifting you up on him while prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. With painfully squinted eyes his nose nuzzled up between your neck and your chest, inhaling your magnetising aura sharply as he span you around. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, embracing his head in a loving manner as you couldn't supress your bubbling giggles.

His strong grip on you wasn't ceasing, not even for a moment as he began mouthing his questions; he didn't even care that his voice was muffled by your own form.

"How- I mean when?" He spoke and only hugged you tigher onto him.

"Well, you thought I'd ever miss this day?" You placed a kiss on the top of his hairline. "I was supposed to be here days ago but my flight got delayed, so Erwin and and Hange came up with this surprise plan."

Levi's hands loosened their grip on you slowly was you tried to slide down his body carefully; this breathtaking moment could only ever last for so long, Levi figured as he set you down. Kissing you was the next task he assigned to himself, but it could only happen after he got a good look at your face.

God, he had missed you so much.

So many months had passed since the last time he had been graced with seeing you this close to him and in the moment what he was witnessing almost felt too unreal. Your tender eyes looked into his with adoration and warmth, your chest dwelled with tainted breaths as your hands slowly came to cup his sharp face.

"I'm sorry I wasn't responding at all, I really had to leave to go to the airport after that silly fight we had, I couldn't just tell you I was coming." You said and placed a kiss on the tip of his nose. "Although I was really temped to."

Levi wrapped his arms around you again and hugged you to his chest- this time he missed on levitating you if the ground, even more fiercely than he had done before. He simply huffed in amusement in the crook of your neck, mouthing a sole 'thank you' against you.

The next kiss you shared was maniac and passionate in nature. His lips didn't just graze over yours, the engulfed them. He sucked onto your tender flesh as if his life depended on it and you couldn't get enough. You found yourself grabbing his shirt, then running your hands through the short spiky hair of his undercut.

His slick hands cupped your own face as he pulled back only to catch his breath for a moment.

"I've missed you much I can't even be patient to talk with you."

"Me too" you announced, a hazed look masking your face.

You took a few leading steps to the couch, careful not to disturb the candles in the corners of the coffee table that before it, much afraid of setting everything on fire in your despairate state to have him. Your mouth launched feverishly onto his as you threw him onto the gray sofa.

Levi didn't fight it, not even for a moment. His tongue shoved inside your mouth, rolling around yours, slurping and cherishing each corner of your mouth as he took small intakes of breath through his nose from time to time. His tender hands loosened their grip on the sides of your face, the action eliciting a small whine from your occupied mouth but to was quickly gulped down by the movement of his lips that came to suck on your tongue.

You felt his fingertips travel down your clothed body, skillfully sinking underneath your shirt before restlessly traveling back up taking the cloth away with them. You only broke away from each other for a singular moment, breaths hitching and tinting the air around you, so much that you could almost ignore the way your heart sped it's throbbing in your ears. His hips bucked longingly int you from underneath, the friction already driving you crazy.

As his hands shoved longingly inside your pants you let another moan slip from the depths of your throat, though it was guickly muffled by your lover's mouth attaching on yours , making you melt into him. You felt his fingers graze ever so slightly over your still clothed crotch, painfully flicking their way through your flesh.

Roughly, he pulled back, detaching his want body away from yours while fixing his gray eyes into you. He didn't bother speaking as he tagged at the sides of his shirt, ripping the article of clothing away from him in such quick movements, as if it was the only thing getting in his way from getting close to you.

With hanger widening his eyes he stared at you again, prompting you to put your hands into him, to feel him all the while he run his hands into your form. He failed in exploring your body as he had wished though, with a shagged breath he only managed to bring you close, in a proximity that didn't even allow a kiss to be exchanged. You simply nuzzled into the crook of his bare neck, rubbing the tip of your nose in calm circles against him as you breathed hot huffs of air onto his skin.

His back was still so muscular and ripped despite his skin being so overly smooth under your tender touch, the more small trails you rubbed over him the more he sighed in greed and over exaggerated longing. Licking his lips with a constipated look on his face, he placed a tender kiss on your collarbone before traveling back up, just to teasingly rub his bottom lip over yours.

Breaking the kiss you grabbed his hand, bringing his palm close you your face. You teasingly picked his pointer finger, making sure to scratch the inside of his hand with your nails as you brought the digit to your mouth. His mouth, running ahead of his own desire to stay quiet, blurted lewd moans at your soft suckling and with all blood boiling in his body he was unable to even think about chocking down on his sounds.

He was on his back before he even knew it. It seemed like squirming was the way to go now, right underneath you as you placed kisses all over his chest and torso. With slow hands you reached for his pants, fidgeting with his zipper and buttons before wiggling your arms inside the dark denim.

Quickly, any remaining article of clothing was discharged thrown anywhere on the floor; you could worry about that later but right now you couldn't seem to be able to pay attention on anything else than each other. You had missed him, he had missed you, there was only so much that the two of you could process momentarily.

It was the high of the moment mixed with your scent that pulled him even even more as you craddled him to your chest while never ceasing the bobbing of your hips. The kisses that he sucked in you, sped up the beating of your heart against his as soft skin mingled with your own. Even that was painful to him, the extend to which he had missed you didn't leave any space for him to pull just an inch away from you, as if he wouldn't ever be able to get enough.

"My Levi, I've missed you so much." You spoke with hitched breaths, lips grazing his earlobe ever so slightly.

Levi allowed him self to eventually grunt in response letting harsh huffs of air through his nostrils while trying to guide your hips to an alt.

"Keep talking like that and I'm not going to last." He spoke, his fingering digging into your thighs to put an halt to your movements.

It didn't work -he should have known it wouldn't work- because you only slid down on him longingly and fast, sending his mind in the familiar pre orgasmic haze he so wished to momentarily be freed from.

"Who said," you paused only for another tainted moan to slip outside your lips "I want you to last?" You placed a kiss on the skin behind his ear, careful not to suck and create any loud noise that close to his eardrum.

Levi only threw his head back, his hips starting to work onto a hard, quick rhythm against you. He trembled under your words and every deep thrust, every feel of your insides on his throbbing length was only contributing to the build up in his abdomen.

He hair, sweaty as it was, stuck on his forehead as it dripped, but you paid no mind in his salty taste as you kissed your way all over his forehead and cheeks, nose and jawline, trailing your tongue on any sharp edge of him.

Your legs were shaking now and much to your best wishes you struggled with your thrusting onto him. You only managed to gyrate your hips, earning another moan of him as you ceased your movements, sweat dripping off of your own forehead as if mimicking his antics.

His hands nearly slipped from your thighs as wet as they were but he managed to get the message you were trying to convey; with jaded breaths he started thrusting maniacally from underneath you, damaging through you as pleasure dueled in both your bodies.

Yearning splashed all over his face and his grunts only got louder. Your foreheads collided as you cupped his face, noses nuzzling up, eyes staring deep into eachother.

Gentle. His ultimate indulge into you was gentle and earth shattering at the same time. His veins popped in white hot pleasure and his chest boiled with numerous erotic moans as his abdomen screamed throughout him, leaving him with barely enough time to mechanically reach just to pull out. His head hung low onto your collarbone while his head throbbed, unable to come down from his high just yet. He couldn't even move his eyes to see you, although he knew by listening to your panted breaths that you were in the same position as him.

Pushing him back to lay down on the couch, you kissed all over his face for the thousandth time tonight.

"I'd never ever miss this important day, you know." You smiled, pressing your lips to the tip of his nose.

"It's not that special, brat" he spoke shyly as he cooed into your face rubbing his upper lip to your cheek. You recognised the action; it was a habit of his to coo in such way, any overly soft thing grazing his top lip indulged him in endless calmness and you hummed to yourself in amusement to the feeling.

"I missed you."

"I know. You said that." He huffed, his lips puckering to hide the playful demeanor behind his next words. "But I don't think I heard it right, mind repeating it?" His fingers trapped your nose between them and swayed your head from side to side before moving to your naked back to press you closer to him him once again.

"You're such a tease. I love you Levi."

"I love you too," He blurred with eyes that burned into yours and proceeded to place a sweet kiss onto your sweat drenched hair "so much, you brat."

Taglist go off: @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi #levi ackerman imagine #levi snk #levi attack on titan #snk x reader #snk #AoT #aot x reader #snk imagines #levi imagine #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #Attack on Titan Imagine #attack on titan #aot season 4 #snk season 4

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adhdeancas · 3 years

Text

12x01 Rewrite with Trans Dean

trigger warnings for minor mention of dysphoria. Also minor/negligent transphobia.

“Mom?” His heart is stopped in his chest, staring at the face he’s kept in his head for all of his life, the face he’s thought of as the only real home he’s ever had. She looks the same, exactly the same. “I… uh, are you really… real?”

He reaches out without thinking, needing to just make sure that Amara didn’t bring back a fantasy or a ghost or a sick joke. She proves it without him touching her, flipping him in a neat trick he recognizes from his own training and ending up with her foot on his neck, pressing him into the dirt. “Where am I? Who the hell are you?”

She looks so scared. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bouncing against the bottom of her foot. He needs to make her trust him, preferably before she does something rash like snap his neck. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m your son. I’m… Sam’s brother”

The pressure lets up on Dean’s neck even though Mary’s shaking her head. “No. No, I don’t have two boys. They’re- they’re just kids.”

Dean winces, breathing heavily. This is gonna be a motherfucker for her to understand. Still, Mary lets him up, and he stands and rubs his neck, trying desperately to recall every bit of information he’s stored away about his mom. “Mom. Listen to me. Your name- your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.”

Mary flinches, the facts hitting straight-on. “How do you know all that?”

“Dad told me.” Dean tells her. He doesn’t tell her that he had to gather the story from slurred words, drunken tears in between stories about the perfect wife. That he recited them in his head like a prayer so he wouldn’t forget her. “March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater - Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh,” God, what was the name of that stupid place? “Mulroney’s, and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song,” A memory of a smiling young alive Mary comes to mind, and he pushes it away because it hurts. She’s right there. “So when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that -” You fell in love with- “that you met -”

“John Winchester.”

“August 19, 1975, you were married… in Reno. Your idea.”Dean had always thought that was hilarious. He looks her in the eyes again, pleading with her to not dispute the next part. “A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.”

“No, no. My oldest was a girl, Deanna.” Mary looks Dean up and down, taking in his short hair, wide shoulders, and flat chest. He crosses his arms over that now, uncomfortable, hoping she isn’t looking at his long eyelashes or his delicate cheekbones or his hips. All the places he’s insecure about.

“Yeah, um… that’s me.” He looks up at her, his jaw clenching, waiting for the ball to drop. “I shortened the name a little, and the- uh- hair.” He tries for the old charming smile as he runs a hand through the spiky hair he hasn’t let grow out in 20 years. It doesn’t quite get there, settling at a more delicate need for approval. Mary doesn’t give it to him. “Do you believe me?”

She bypasses the question, turning her eyes away from him to look at the car behind him. Something changes in her eyes. “I burned.” She says quietly, like she’s remembering the heat. Dean swallows. He remembers the heat too. “How long have I been gone?”

“33 years.” His voice cracks.

Mary looks back to him, and she moves forward, putting two gentle fingers to his cheek, to the freckles sprayed across soft skin. He’s had them forever, even when he was little. “Dee?” She calls him by his old nickname; Dean’s doubly thankful that he doesn’t use his deadname.

“Hi, mom.” There are tears in his eyes.

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

“How did he die?”

Dean bows his head. He’s really not selling himself too good here, is he? First the trans thing, now- “He gave himself up for me.” He’ll be surprised if Mary wants anything to do with him. Surprisingly, she chuckles and sniffles.

“That does sound like John.” He looks over, and she’s smiling. His brow furrows. Killing himself to save Dean’s ass does sound like John, but not in a way that makes him want to smile. “And he was a hunter? And he raised-” She stutters now, looking at him again and looking away just as quickly. “You and Sam to be-”

“Yeah, he did.” A cold weight is settling in Dean’s stomach, and he tries and fails to not let it seep into his words.

“And you said we’ve met before, when you traveled through time,”

Dean nods. It had been horrible and amazing to see Mary and have her see him, just as some guy. A guy, at all. “Twice. Your memory got wiped, so…” So you don’t remember me telling you I was your kid, and you not believing me. I do.

“And you’re… my daughter-”

Dean coughs. He hasn’t been called a daughter in a long-ass time. “No, I’m- I mean. I was. I know it’s a lot. And I’ll explain everything. I will. But right now, let’s get out of here. Let’s get you home. Come on, Mom.”

She doesn’t correct him, which means she must believe, at least a little bit, that she is his mom.

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

“You live here?” She looks around the cavernous space and he smiles, looking around too. It really is awesome.

“Yeah, when we’re not on the road. It’s an old Men of Letters bunker.”

“Men of Letters?” She scoffs. Dean grins a bit and looks at her. He thinks he likes her. “They’re a myth. An old hunter’s story.”

He tilts his head. He’s just gonna keep blowing her mind today, apparently. “Not so much. New duds look good.” He gestures to her clothes. He’d lent her some extra clothes he’d had in the trunk, and he tries not to fixate on how they weren’t that big on her. He’s not much taller than her, and he knows part of that even is the heeled boots he’s wearing.

“Well, thanks. It’s better than walking around in that nightgown the rest-” Dean’s nodding, about to say something extremely awkward like ‘Yeah, nightgowns are a bitch,’ when he finally looks at what she’s staring at, spattered on the floor of the bunker. “That’s blood.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, but he goes into autopilot before he can think about freaking out. He takes his gun out from his pants and cocks it, clearing the immediate area. A blurred sigil on the wall puts another bolt of fear through his chest. “Sammy? Cas?” He winces at how high his voice goes.

He takes the Map Table’s gun out from its hiding place and hands it to Mary. She was a hunter too, and he’s not about to leave her unarmed to clear the place. “Take this. Stay here.” Dean takes off immediately. It isn’t until he’s moving on to check the kitchen that he hears the voice. Mary’s clear as a bell, saying,

“Hands, now,”

Dean’s in the room before he can think about it. His heart practically comes undone when he sees that dumb familiar trench coat. He puts his body between Cas and his mom’s gun immediately, hoping she will trust him enough not to shoot through him. “Whoa, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend, all right?” He meets Cas’s eyes and sees the utter relief in his eyes, and a surge of warmth fills his chest. “Hey, Cas.”

It’s a lackluster greeting when they both thought they’d never see each other again, and Cas shows it when he steps forward quickly and pulls Dean into a tight hug. “Dean!”

Dean grins and pats his back. “Hey, okay. All right,” He comforts him quietly.

“Dean, you’re alive?” Cas pulls away and looks him over, like he’s afraid Dean might disappear. Dean nods, understanding; he had done the same thing to Mary, after all.

“Yeah.”

“What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?”

“I’ll tell you everything. Where is Sam?”

“He’s not here.” Obviously. Dean could smack him, but his face wants to break into a fond smile instead. He represses both urges.

“Are you a hunter?”

“No, I’m an angel.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean says over Cas. They look at each other and then back at Mary.

“Come again?”

“An angel, with a capital A,” Dean clarifies. He feels, ridiculously, a little bit like he’s showing off. Showing Cas off. “You know, wings, harp.”

“No, I don’t have a harp.”

Dean laughs. “This is Castiel. Cas, this is… Mary. Winchester.”

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

“It’s been kinda weird, here. You know, with mom being back?” And learning that her baby girl is now a full grown man? “It’s like we don’t know how to act around each other, so we just kinda make this small talk, and act like it’s normal, but it’s- it’s so not normal.” Dean can hear the pleading in his voice.

“What has she said to you?” Cas asks quickly. Dean bites his lip to hide the smile he’s trying to get from hearing Cas get all angry and protective on his behalf. He’s reminded of the time Cas looked him directly in the face and said, ‘Dean Winchester, if anyone is ever transphobic to you, I will smite them immediately and without any remorse.’ And before Dean could make a quip about internalized transphobia, Cas added, ‘Do not make me do that to you.’

“Well, nothing. That’s- that’s the whole point.” It’s the kind of thing most people usually wanna go over, what the fuck gender their kid is? He’s pretty sure no news does not mean good news in this context.

“Okay, what have you said to her?”

“Well, nothing. I’m- I don’t know what to say to her, y’know? It’s like it’s all too much, and I don’t wanna overwhelm her.”

“Dean, your identity is not ‘too much.’” Cas says immediately. Dean sighs. That wasn’t what he meant, even though he has said something similar before. Something when he was lonely and sad and feeling like explaining his dick to a one night stand was too complicated for him to do to even assuage it that way.

“No- I know. It’s not that. It’s… everything.”

Now it’s Cas’s turn to sigh. “Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated, as you humans tend to do. I’ll call you.” He hangs up.

Dean lets the phone fall with his arm limp to his side. “Yeah. Great. That’s helpful.” He says to the empty air. “That’s helpful.” Asshole.

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

They’re in the car, and Dean is driving, and there is too much going on. He’s not sure whether he’s happy that Cas is in the backseat for this conversation or not. “So you’re… my Deanna.”

Dean’s hands tighten on the wheel. He looks at them and ignores the voice in his head that says they are petite. Womanly. “Uh, yeah. I was born Deanna Jane Winchester.” He clears his throat and meets Cas’s eyes in the rearview. He gives him a little nod, and Dean continues. “I’m… It’s called trans.”

Dean risks a look over at Mary, and she’s playing with her ring. “So you… wanted to be a boy.”

Dean clears his throat again. He’s pretty sure he does it every time before he talks, and he’s also pretty sure his voice gets lower every time he talks, too. He swears it’s an automatic reflex.

“Dean’s soul is- that of a human man.” Cas interrupts, saying it like that clarifies things. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up a little bit. Cas did tell him that he could see his soul, and also told him that it was, and he quotes ‘A color more similar to that of a men than women.’ Which, yeah, that tracks. He guesses Cas leaves off the ‘more similar’ part to make things simpler for Mary.

“And so you…” Mary trails off, a finger pointing toward his chest aborting its mission when she realizes it might be rude.

Dean raises an eyebrow with amusement. “Cut my tits off? Yeah.” He takes a hand off the wheel to raise his shirt, proudly showing off his top surgery scars. Mary trails a hand along them, feeling the raised skin. “After Sammy went to college. It was a bitch of a few weeks, but it was worth it.”

Mary takes her hand away and nods, brows furrowed like she’s trying to wrap her head around it. Dean grins. The grin freezes awkwardly, the edges tilting down, when Mary opens her mouth again. “So you have a-”

Cas coughs loudly in the back seat. Dean meets his wide eyes with a similar expression, and Mary cuts off the question, catching onto the fact she said something wrong. “Don’t think we really need to go there, do we, mom?”

That was a question for him and whatever lucky son of a bitch (gender neutral) ended up in his bed at the end of the night. “Right.” Mary says quickly. She turns her whole body then, asking, “Is that why you like men?”

Dean only swerves a little, he swears. The car coming the opposite direction doesn’t seem to agree, holding its horn long and hard. Luckily, it gives him a moment to stutter less obviously.

“Sorry, I just meant- since you two are-” Mary gestures between Cas and Dean, and Dean blinks his eyes solidly, trying to convince himself this is really happening.

“No! I mean, we-” Dean doesn’t have the balls (hehe) to look at Cas in the back seat, but he can see the trench coat shifting out of his peripheral. “I’m not-”

“Was John okay with this?”

Dean laughs. It comes out bitter and dark. “Dad didn’t much give a fuck what I did with my body. He’d given up on grandkids about the time he saw how decent I was at hunting, so my long hair wasn’t a personal loss.” He knew I wasn’t gonna live long enough to give him grandkids, not without some self-sacrifice on John’s part.

Mary looks a little shocked at his outburst, and Dean almost feels bad for being so blunt and crass. But then he remembers growing up with John as his male role model, and he tightens his jaw. No, the bluntness and crassness was accurate. “Oh.”

“... Yeah.” Dean bites his lip and risks another glance at his mom.

“So, you’re okay with this?” He waves a hand at himself. Asking if she was okay with him was just too pathetic, even for him. She looks at him uncertainly, a frown he recognizes as his own on her face.

“I don’t think I’m okay with any of this, Dean. But… I guess I’ll adjust.”

#tw: dysphoria #trans dean #destiel #deancas #ftm dean #transmasc dean #fanfic #dean is trans #my writing #mine

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101 for betaing this for us).

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them.

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…)

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream.

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh.

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples.

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster).

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team).

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged.

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.”

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up.

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life.

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,”

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation.

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door.

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now.

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus).

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room.

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed.

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place.

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”.

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend.

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively.

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head.

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…”

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head.

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand.

“Tasty made here we come,”

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it.

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display.

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her.

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided.

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly.

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world.

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her.

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,”

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables).

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration.

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter.

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,”

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #literalhedgehog

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shijiujun · 3 years

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I’m here with a zombie apocalypse (think Resident Evil level) + ABO danmei! I’m not usually a fan of ABOs tbh and I picked up this book for the zombie part and was surprised by the ABO part, but this one was a good nice balance between both. Surviving the zombie apocalypse still takes centre stage while the ABO part is more of a subplot/backdrop, but it’s cool all the same haha

Written by the author who wrote Swallowing the Sea (Tun Hai) & Breaking the Clouds (Po Yun)!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

In a world that has been overrun by a virus that turns people into zombies, Si Nan wakes up with no memory of who he is and what he’s doing in this rescue camp, only that he’s an omega that is scheduled to be air-lifted out of an affected zone to a safe sanctuary, where omegas are prized individuals meant to be protected so they can give birth and contribute to a new population, which has been decimated with attacking zombies globally.

He’s not sure who he is and what he was supposed to be doing, but his instincts tell him to not go along with these people, and he flees into the crowd of attacking zombies. Much to everyone’s surprise, he has strong combat abilities (despite being an omega) and manages to escape from the team and also the zombies.

He chances upon Zhou Rong, Captain of the 118 Retrieval Special Unit and his team during another zombie attack in a nearby city, and joins them out after his escape route is blocked. Si Nan hides his omega scent with suppressants he finds in a supermarket, and unbeknownst to him, he has actually met Zhou Rong before when they were both much younger in a different setting, before zombies were even a thing. Zhou Rong leads a team of beta soldiers, which die one after the other as they flee, leaving the team down to its last bullet and six members.

Si Nan decides to follow them for a while, and due to his skilled fighting prowess, he gains the trust of this team and the civilians they’re protecting. Zhou Rong also takes a liking to him, and so does another team member Yan Hao, while Si Nan mistakenly thinks that Zhou Rong and Yan Hao are a couple together instead. As they flee from one city to another trying to get back to the 118 base, they realize the situation and virus is worser than they thought. They have to fight to survive while also figure out who Si Nan is, and why he’s a wanted individual by authorities from another country.

*A pretty accurate representation of a zombie apocalypse I have to say, I had Resident Evil flashbacks when I was reading this, people start dying right off the bat, but nothing hurts more than 2ha so I only teared up at minor character deaths

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - December 2020 Print | Novel Translations

Characters:

1. 司南 Si Nan - Amazing pouty and fierce mix-blood blond-haired omega who has amnesia and doesn’t even know his own name. He sees some product in a convenience store where he meets Zhou Rong for the first time that has the words 司南 on it and decides that his name for now. Combat specialist and can take out a lot of zombies just on his own - he’s also immune to the zombie virus but they don’t know this until much later. He doesn’t go with the shady troop that rescued him initially, but with Zhou Rong because he’s intrigued by how brash and kind and a bit dumb this Captain is. Masquerades as a beta with the help of suppressants

He has a stepbrother (an alpha) who tortured him for many years due to Si Nan’s special condition and the mystery surrounding his childhood with his scientist mother and dead-but-terribly-revived father. Said stepbrother also wants to mate with him because he ‘loves’ him but is just insane af.

Si Nan actually met Zhou Rong when they were much younger before this whole zombie thing came along, and Si Nan actually pretended to be a helpless participant of the competition they were in and lets Zhou Rong help him, only to steal away the prize at the very last moment. He liked Zhou Rong a lot then, but due to him being taken hostage technically by his stepbrother and also his allegiance to a Western state (he’s mixed blood, stepbrother is American-ish) they were unable to be together.

He’s compassionate, but doesn’t show mercy to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Like Zhou Rong, he wants to save everyone they possibly can, but they’re not dumb enough to think they can save everyone. As he travels with Zhou Rong and his team and other civilians, he starts to remember little things about himself and is caught by his stepbrother again midway through the novel, and just as he despairs that no one will ever save a monster like him, Zhou Rong turns up to do just that.

2. 周戎 Zhou Rong - Extremely confident, brash but handsome and strategic alpha Captain of the 118 unit, a special unit which was sent out a few months prior to the start of the book to clear out regions of civilians, but they lose touch with a major city and headquarters, and are forced to find ways to return to big HQ amidst unusual bursts of zombie attacks and a new strain of zombies who were infected without being bitten. Masquerades as a beta, like the rest of his team.

He loses a lot of his team along the way, and has to carry the burden of killing them before they turn at their requests, and also promising to find their families and take care of them for his dead team members. He wants to save everyone, but also knows that with dwindling supply to food, medicine etc. they can only choose their battles along the way.

Takes a huge liking to strong Si Nan, unknowing that he’s the boy he met and fell in love with when they were younger. Because of the competition then, despite Si Nan winning over him, he decides to openly court Si Nan after the competition, and brings flowers to go see him, only to see Si Nan being given a temporary claiming bite on the back of his neck by another man (the stepbrother). Dejected and devastated, his first budding love kind of ended there, and from then on he openly disses omegas as he thinks that Si Nan basically seduced him to deceive him, and that all the affection they shared during the days of the competition in the wild were fake.

After the truth about Si Nan is out, he does a 180 hahahaha, and Si Nan forgives him XD

3. 颜豪 Yan Hao - Another alpha-hiding-as-a-beta team member of Zhou Rong’s unit. After Si Nan saves him twice, he falls in love with Si Nan, not knowing that Si Nan thinks that Zhou Rong and himself are together. His feelings after are known to Si Nan, but Zhou Rong and he openly (and hilariously) fight for Si Nan’s affections. Zhou Rong is way more direct than Yan Hao is though, and Si Nan obviously likes Zhou Rong much more than he does Yan Hao, so naturally he was kicked out of the competition hahaha. He’s very sporting about it though!

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

Zhou Rong calls himself Rong-ge, asks everyone to call him that, he takes on the brotherly protector role in the team and amongst the civilians he rescued - Tells Si Nan to call for Rong-ge whenever he’s in danger and he’ll turn up - So there’s a part where Si Nan is bombarded with his memories while he’s about to be kidnapped by his stepbrother and also chased down by incoming hordes of zombies, and he yells out for Rong-ge, and Rong-ge really turns up ;-;

Si Nan is pouty and glowering all the time, a bit cold and aloof at other times, but he’s always drawn to Zhou Rong’s warmth

After they confirm their feelings for each other and spend his heat together, they are literally inseparable, like forever holding hands and looking out for each other like they go from flirty at 20% to 200% as a couple midway through the novel

Si Nan kicks ass, all the time! He’s super good at fighting

Zhou Rong promises to get Si Nan a huge rock as an engagement ring but he spends all his check on the families of his dead team members at the end of the novel, and Si Nan teases him, “So what are you going to use to afford my ring now huh?” Also, they’re just recovering from the zombie apocalypse so the commercialisation of marriages will once again have to wait, but Zhou Rong literally does turn up with a bigass ridiculous diamond ring (from where they raided a diamond ring story during a mission) and presents it to him

Yan Hao always teases Si Nan for how he thought him and Zhou Rong were together, because both men are always rough-housing and fighting like actual brothers than lovers XD

Yan Hao tells Zhou Rong that they should compete fairly for SI Nan’s affections, and Zhou Rong rolls his eyes and grabs Si Nan over and kisses him full on on the lips while Yan Hao splutters in defeat

The novel depicts deaths and helplessness really, really well. LIke seriously, I almost couldn’t finish it but it’s actually a pretty nice novel that doesn’t focus entirely on the doom and gloom of the apocalypse

#不死者 #the undead #huai shang #danmei #danmei recs #min's why you should read #zombie apocalypse #also abo #but they don't focus a lot on the abo like the mechanics of it #OKAY one more to go!

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slytherinsnekxvii · 3 years

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this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):

It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.

It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.

His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.

So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.

He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.

He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.

He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.

He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.

He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.

It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.

Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.

By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.

Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.

His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.

He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.

There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.

May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.

He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.

It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.

He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.

He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.

"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.

"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"

"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.

Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"

"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."

He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"

Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"

"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."

Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.

He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.

"I'm sorry."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"

She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."

"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"

Severus nods.

He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.

"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."

"Ah, yes. Of course."

Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.

"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."

"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."

"Congratulations," Severus echoes.

"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."

"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."

Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."

"Yes, Mam."

She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.

"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.

"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.

"Prove it," she says, glaring.

Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.

"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"

Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."

"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.

"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.

"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.

"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.

"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"

He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.

"But–" Lily begins, standing.

He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.

"Really–"

"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.

It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.

Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.

#severus snape #snapedom #pro snape #fic #i didn't expect anyone to take me seriosuly but someone did and goddamn it i'll be damned if i don't give them something to read #anyways have fun #probably a bit ooc #but that's what makes aus fun amirite hehe #alright that's enough from me

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