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boo8008 · 7 months

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Three Months - Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader Chapter 02: Mince

Prologue | Chapter 01: Quadriller | Chapter 02: Mince

Series Summery: Its been one year since The Bear's soft open, and with everything running smoothly, Carmen's lost in his thoughts, until the final table of the night is seated.

Chapter Summery: After the minor introduction of you and Carmy, your about to prepare the first dinner post Covid and before Stevie and Michelle leave, one Carmen is also coming to. Only cooking dinner is not going as smoothly as you'd hoped.

Mince (v.) - to finely divide food into uniform pieces smaller than diced or chopped foods, prepared using a chef's knife or food processor

Word Count: ~3,865

My Notes bb: Hey….. How yall doin? Sorry this took so long to get out, work and life suddenly got busy and I didn't have time to write. I hurt my back though so it kinda forced me to write and crank this out. Hopefully its not as bad I as I still feel like it is but yea. Again sorry this took so long to get out. Hope you enjoy! (ps my therapist thinks this is a decent outlet though lol thanks Sandra)

2021 (December)

Carmen hardly ever came to dinner after those first few weeks, and Michelle said something about him working at Eleven Madison Park. While you were happy he head ended up at the high end restaurant, you knew he was working under one hell of an asshole. He seemed to be doing fine enough though. Granted, you would only catch small glimpses of him on nights when you stayed later than intended and he walked only into his room to sleep, with just a small mumbled ‘hi’ thrown your way. Eventually he managed to move out on his own and only came to dinner about once every two months when Michelle would insist on it.

Once covid hit though, you'd basically lost contact with him. Michelle even rarely managed to drag him into group facetime calls with you. They were mainly her or Stevie recounting their last two weeks of quarantine in a dramatic fashion and you and Carmen would be listening half heartedly. If Carmen was there, he seemed to just sit out on a fire escape in his building and smoke, thinking about other things. Everytime you picked up though, missing being around the two people you actually liked. You would use it as a little reprieve from writing yet another ‘easy recipes for quarantine’ article, or to have company while you organized and re-organised random spots throughout your apartment.

Mostly though you would use it to get away from the depressive thoughts of ‘what am I doing with my life?’ or ‘if something happened to me, only Michelle and Stevie would really know.’ you didn't realize how much you missed being around people until you couldn't anymore, just stuck with yourself and your cat in your apartment. You missed the mindless chatter from coworkers at your office and in person interviews with cranky chefs because they gave you more to think about than yourself. All you began to think about was how bad the piece you were working on was, even if your editor said it was great. You felt tired and tired of being tired. All you wanted was to have a nice dinner with Stevie and Michelle, and fuck even hearing from Carmen would be amazing even if it was another awkward conversation with someone you just barely knew.

In short covid sucked ass and made your already anxious brain even worse. Not to mentioned your sense of time became fucked and all of your normally scheduled daily things also hard to keep track of. While quarantine had somewhat ended, you all found yourselves too busy trying to get back into the groove of ‘normalcy’ and offices to have dinner again, canceling for meetings or being too tired. Leading to today, when after months of planning and rescheduling you had completely forgotten that dinner was not only being held at you place, but you were also cooking because Michelle and Stevie had nothing in their kitchen because they were leaving two weeks early to isolate before Christmas in Chicago, and to top it all off, Carmen was (for once) coming to dinner. You remembered only when Stevie sent you a text asking what time worked best to come over, and not wanting to cancel for the tenth time, you told them 7:00. So you left work early to run for the subway, then run to the grocers to get real food, and then ran home to start cooking.

Only cooking was not going as planned.

It was 6:30 and dinner was nowhere near done. It was like you had forgotten everything you knew about actually cooking, and you’re a food journalist for Christ's sake! This should have been something you could do fairly easy! You write about things like this all the time! Yet here you are, chicken suddenly burning in the oven from when you stepped away to check your recipe to make sure everything was going okay and you that were good to start the pasta. You quickly removed the now pucks from the oven and turned it off. You resolved to just sitting on the floor across from your oven and crying, thinking about where it all went wrong-not the dinner but everything. Quiet sobs racked your body as you sad down on your kitchen floor, forgetting about your phone and the fact your last text said “doors unlocked when you get here”.

Carmen didn’t want to go to dinner but knew he wouldn't hear the end of it from Michelle if he didn’t show up. And to be frank he wanted her to stop calling him a hermit too. So he grabbed his jacket after lunch service and headed home to shower and change, doing his best to not think of his shitty boss saying he was worthless for taking one evening off. He hadn't done that even during covid, constantly asking what the plan was or if the kitchen was open. He decided to head out early to your place sending a quick text and leaving. As he approached your door he could definitely smell burning, very unlike the pre-covid dinners you made. While not Michelin level, what you made were perfect home cooked and leftover meals to him. A nice change from his go to PB&Js with Doritos and a Coke. He checked his phone again making sure the apartment number was right and reread your last text again. He still knocked on the door before he opened it, out of habit.

“Yo its me,” Carmen called out, peeling off his jacket as he looked around the entryway of your small apartment. You jumped at the knock and stood up as the door opened, and as Carmen called out, you turned to face the sink in your kitchen.

“In here!” your voice was wobbly but you preyed he wouldn't notice. Carmen followed the sound and walked into the kitchen, seeing the blackened chicken on the stove and the mess of the rest of the kitchen.

“Jesus, the fuck did you try to cook?” he said it without thinking, and immediately you broke again. Crumbling in on yourself and to tired to try and hide it. Tears raining down your face and carmen short circuited, watching as you again sunk to the floor in a puddle.

“Shit fuck I-I’m sorry. Fuck! Wh-what can I do? What do you want me to do? Fuck sorry I-I’m bad at this.” he panics as he looks down at you crying. “Wh-want me to go? I-I can go- I should go. Shit, Sorry again.”

“S-s-stay?”

“What?” Carmen's pretty sure he heard wrong, after all he just caused you to meltdown from his social awkwardness.

“S-stay?” you say more clearly. You don't know why you ask it, let alone how it crawls out of your crying, shaking self. Its been so long sense you've been near someone else even a little close to you so maybe that's it. He stops for a minute looking down at you as you look up at him still crying. “Please?”

“... O-okay.”

He isn't sure why he stays, or why he sits down next to you while you cry, but he does. The apartment is quiet outside of you sniffles and the occasional sob but carmen stays put. Neither of you realize how much you've started leaning towards each other until your head is lightly lying on his shoulder. You’ve mostly stopped crying now but your face is still wet and your eyes are puffy.

He isn't sure what to say, with his mom asking if you were okay was off limits. It made everything worse. It lead to screaming and yelling and throwing things. He thinks about what someone normal, someone like Stevie, or Pete, or Natalie, what they would ask someone they hardly know if they saw them having a panic attack and decides to just do it, praying you’d be somewhat normal compared to his mother.

“You-you okay?” you'd almost forgot he was there, even if you were leaning on him, and sat up straighter, wiping your face.

“Yea, I’m-I’m sorry dinners ruined and for getting like that,” you say. Tears of embarrassment springing up at knowing that this (basically) stranger saw you cry.

“No no your fine-your cool,” he can feel panic rising again at making you cry again. “No no no offense but I-I was kinda in the mood for pizza anyways.” He's only partly lying, he wanted a home cooked meal but the pizza place he passed on his way here smelled greasy and amazing on his empty stomach.

“Are you sure? I still have the kitchen to clean and I just don't want you all to think that I don't care o-or anything that i-its our last dinner before you guys go back to Chicago for Christmas and I just-”

“Yea, your fine , its fine if we have pizza, I’ll text Michelle to grab it on their way over, they wont mind.”

“Okay…” you mumble, caving in on the choice of pizza and leaning your head back on the cabinet behind you. Carmens already pulling his phone out of his pocket when he spots the new texts from Stevie and Michelle on his lock screen.

Stevie: ‘Sorry gang, we dont think we can make it tonight, we still have a lot to pack 😕’

Michelle: ‘Yea I’m sorry i know its so close to dinner but maybe you two can get along without us????’

Michelle: ‘Sorry again lovelies xoxo 😘’

Michelle: ‘Dont be a dick carm 💛😘’

“Well fuck,” Carmen mumbled. He was now on his own to make conversation. “Looks like its just us for dinner. ‘Said they still have packing to do.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. Of course the universe would have the only two people you could actually converse with busy on the one night you were meant to see them.

“Yea…” Carmen wasn't sure how to proceed. Does he leave cause the only bridge between you both isn't showing? Does he stay because he already committed to dinner? God he feels so awkward.

“Well we could still get pizza?” you ask. “I mean you came all this way so it kinda feels like a waste.”

“You sure?”

“Yea, I mean I still gotta clean the kitchen but theres a place around the corner thats amazing after crying,” you say with a bit of a laugh to help bring up the awkward mood.

“Let me help you and we can go?” he suggests, already rising to his feet and offering you a hand.

“Are you sure? I mean the chicken I think is welded on there at this point,” you say. As your taking his hand and he pulls you to stand from your floor, you see his forearms flex and your mind short circuits as you look probably a second longer than you need to at the muscles and veins there. Luckily he doesn't notice because he's already turning and grabbing the now cool baking sheet with the chicken on it.

“Yea it’ll go faster, I think I can get this off too,” Carmen quickly took charge of washing the bowls, cutting boards, and other kitchen utensils you had pulled out in your frenzy to cook dinner on time.

In nearly no time at all the kitchen was clean and the two of you had left for the pizza parlor a block away. While yes the cleaning was a little awkward, the noise of the city on the walk made making any conversation difficult, meaning neither of you had to talk or struggle to make conversation.

“Pepperoni good?” Carmen asked as the two of you stood awkwardly next to each other, both of your jackets zipped all the way up thanks to the near unbearable cold outside.

“Y-yea, they make bomb garlic knots too if you want some,” you responded, skimming over the menu even though you already knew what the plan was.

“C-cool, um,” Carmen looked around the small shop, there was just the counter and a cooler for drinks, no seating. The place reminded him of the beef, dingy, and not that healthy, but god damn was this about to be the best food he could ever get. “Did you want to go back to your place? Cause… cause there's no tables and stuff…” Carmen cringed at the awkward way the words came out.

“Yea if that's good with you?” you said taking a step forward, the two of you would look at each other before looking away, as if the tiled flooring was so interesting. You decided to take a page out of Stevie’s book, he was better with people than you were so you prayed the attempted joke would land. “I mean we could eat out in the cold if your more comfortable?” A smile pressed its way onto Carmen’s face and you considered that a victory.

“Yea no, I love eating outside when its about to snow,” he snickered. “Reminds me of home.” You both shifted closer as the people in front of you pushed pass you both to leave with their pizzas. As you both stepped up to the counter Carmen was faster than you in not only placing the order, a large peperoni with a side of garlic knots, but also whipping out his wallet and paying, you on the other hand had barely stumbled out a hello and barely started shifting your bag to get out your own wallet by the time he was done.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled as you both stepped off to the side to wait.

“Yea well, its cool I got the money,” Carmen added. You only partly doubted it, he worked at the highest rated restaurant in the world but also lived in New York so it kinda balanced out. You both distracted yourselves for a few minuets looking at your phones, you taking to a word search game and Carmen playing the fun game of ‘who is this and why do I have their number?’ with his contacts. It felt a little more relaxing compared to earlier, more like the same air you both got when Stevie and Michelle would leave the room at your normal dinners, not pressured to talk but liking the fact another person was next to you.

“Order 447!” you and carmen both jumped as the number was yelled through the small shop. Carmen stepped forward and took the box and bag from the worker, turning to you, where you grabbed the bag and began to head out before he got up the words to protest that he's got it.

Luckily the only awkward part of the walk back to your apartment was the elevator ride up. As you both stepped into your apartment you were both greeted by the loud yelling of your cat as she rounded the corner to yell at you for leaving for a whole 30 minuets.

“Yea yea your fine baby,” you told her as you took the pizza from Carmen. “You good with just sitting on the couch? I don't want to do anymore kitchen cleaning.”

“Heard,” Carmen carmen said as he took off his jacket. He was looking down at the feline weaving between his legs and bent down to let her sniff him so he could pet her, instead she smelt him and abruptly ran back deeper in the apartment and he smiled a little at the cat, following it with his eyes to you coming out of the kitchen with two cans of coke, paper plates, and paper towels. Something in him stirred at the mundane and domestic sight but he waved it off as more anxiety.

“Wait-shit-your not allergic to cats are you?” you asked panicked.

“N-no,” Carmen's voice broke a little as he said it and he cleared his throat. “No… My, um, my mom never let us have one when I was a kid, something about the furniture. I always wanted one though.” Why’d his voice break like that? Why’d he bring up his mom? Fuck now he's gonna have to explain everything.

“Cool-cool,” you were turning to head deeper into the apartment again and Carmen followed, getting a better look at the place now that he wasn't rushing to the kitchen. “That's Mince, cause when I got her she was tiny and I wasn't thinking ahead.” He took in the living room, a nice, small sectional couch with a blanket over the back was against one wall, and a tv with bookcases full of nick-nacks and heavy looking books with holiday lights around it. The center of the room had a buttery carpet and the coffee table with the pizza and garlic knots on it.

“Make yourself at home,” you added. You’d never felt more aware of your actions than now, as Carmen looked at more of your space with posters and pictures around it and you were just trying to tell yourself to act normal. He took in the dining table with four perfectly mismatched chairs that was tucked into a corner on the other side of the wall from the kitchen. Mince catches his attention from the couch, batting at his hand from her spot on the arm rest. He again goes to pet her only for her to skip off and run to the opposite end where you are. Carmen finally takes a seat on the couch, the two of you as far as you could be. You both dig into the pizza and Carmen can’t help but think about how good it is.

“Fuck,” he groaned. It definitely compensates for the shitty morning he had and the rollercoaster of emotions he felt around you.

“Right?” you said through a smile. You were turning on the tv and poking around for something to watch.

“‘S so fucking good,” he said through another bite. “Chicago is still better though.” he mumbled.

“Fuck off,” you finally settled on Bobs Burgers that you left off on. You both ate in a mostly comfortable silence, focusing on the show and avoiding looking at each other. Once you felt you were full you settled back into the couch, and glanced at carmen sitting in your space, he had made himself more comfortable, and he looked nice there, leaned up against the arm of the couch with one arm draped over the back of the couch fiddling with a part of the blanket and his legs spread wide. You shifted your focus back to the television not wanting to make it more weird.

“So… did you finish packing already?” you settled on conversation to distract you from the thought of crawling into his lap. “For Chicago I mean.”

“Oh um,” Carmen was a little startled by the sudden conversation, but fuck it you already cried in front of him today, it was his turn to share. “N-no I’m just staying here, rather not watch my mom drive the car through a wall and my brother fight my uncle again.”

“Jeez, I’m sorry,” Steve had told you some of what happened that Christmas, mainly summarized as a big blowout of a fight between Michelle’s cousin Mikey and her kinda-uncle Lee, and her aunt Donna driving her car through the living room. God why'd you bring this up? He probably didn't want to talk about it. “Did you have any plans then?” Please let this be a decent change of topic you think.

“Just work, go home, smoke and eat, sleep, just like the last two years,” he says with a sigh. “Wh-What about you?”

“No, I was just gonna stay in and watch some movies.” Carmen answers with an affirming ‘hm’, not wanting to overstep and ask more questions. Even with the both of you wanting to talk more, neither of you know how to go from here. You turn you attention back to the television as Carmen turns his head a little to quietly observe you.

Curled up in the corner of the couch in a cozy, old, and ratty sweatshirt with some leggings and fuzzy holiday grippy socks, hair down, and face still a little puffy from the winter air and your tears, but still beautiful in the darkening light of your apartment, mundanely so. Not a supermodel ripped from the cover of vogue, or an unobtainable influencer with hair and makeup perfectly placed for pictures. You look like you belong there. You look real. Cozy and warm on your couch with the lights from the streets down below hitting you just so. Home he thinks, before quickly turning his attention back to the tv. Its not like he’d ever have a shot with you anyways, he’s always too busy, or too angry, or too much of an asshole in general. Where’d all of those thoughts even come from? He hardly ever felt at home with anyone, especially outside of the kitchen.

As the show plays on the two of you get lost in it and enjoying the act of being alone together, occasionally steeling glances at each other. You find yourself kind of liking being with him, not necessarily talking or interacting but the feeling of another person in the same room as you feels nice. Carmen won't say it but he's enjoying himself too. The show and coziness of your apartment make him feel relaxed more than his barren dingy apartment ever could, and the abundance of stuff artfully placed helps give him something to look at and think on rather than get lost in his anxiety and self doubt. Why does she have a Halloween decoration out its December…right? He thinks. Your both trying to think on how to ask for what you want but you beat him too it. Probably because you grew up with Steve and his weird ball of encouragement always on your side.

“Did you want to hang out? On Christmas I mean,” you finally get the courage to ask. Phew, not that bad.

“I mean I-I don't want to intrude,” Carmen starts. “Plus I have work the next day.”

“You could sleepover? If-if you want,” you prepose. “We can still smoke, eat, and sleep if you want. All the traditions you enjoy, a-and I don’t think I’m far from the line you need?”

You definitely aren't. In fact your apartment is somehow on a faster route to work than his own. The only reason you know is because of the Bake It Nice pop up bakery Eleven Madison Park does once a month that you always try to make time for. Carmen thinks on it for a second, and your sure he's looking for a way to let you down nicely.

“You sure your okay with me leaving at 5:00 in the morning?” he asks.

“Absolutely,” you say with a smile, and something in Carmen stirs. “Plus I can pass the fuck out again when you leave anyways.” he smiles at that, still unsure what feeling he's having right now, but he likes it.

“Okay,” he says and you both return you attention back to the show smiling like children. Your legs a little more outstretched towards carmen and his body begging to sink further into your couch. Relaxing to the feeling of you.

#carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fic #the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmy x you #carmy x fem!reader #jeremy allen white

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bbgem329 · 1 year

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Things Are Never As They Seem… Chapter Seventeen

Pairings—Sebastian Stan x Actress!Reader, Sebastian Stan x OFC (PR relationship)

Summary

You and Sebastian Stan have been dating privately for over two years. Everything is perfect until he is coerced into a PR relationship when he signed with a new agency to advance his career. Trouble ensues…

Warnings

MINORS DNI! 18++. Language. PR relationship. HW sucks. Fluff. Angst. Implied smut. Cyber bullying.

Series Masterlist

—————

January 26, 2021

Ella spoke your name softly, pulling your attention away from the pile of laundry you were working through, “Are you sure you want to take some time off?” You’d almost forgotten you were on the phone with her for all of two minutes, tuning out her rambling about some role you had zero interest in. “It’s just… Well, you just got back into things after lockdown and I’d hate for you to miss opportunities…”

You loved her.

You really, really did.

But you were more than a little fed up with her constant pestering.

All week she’d been on your ass about finding the next project–taking the next steps, knowing damn well you had a movie coming out this spring and would start filming another in LA near the end of March, early April.

What more could you possibly do?

February was really your only month off and you wouldn’t catch a break again until the end of July, early August.

You were taking your damn vacation.

And Ella damn knew it too. She was more than just wasting her breath at this point.

“Ella.” You sighed, struggling to keep the frustration out of your voice. “I’m taking this vacation. We’ve talked about this a handful of times now.” You ran a hand down your face, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, “Seb’s mom needs this. This isn’t about me getting time off, it’s about spending quality time with her. She’s been alone so much recently.” You paused, trying to remain mindful of your tone, “So please don’t ask me again.”

You really didn’t intend for it to come out as stern as it did and you winced slightly at the long silence that followed as soon as the words left your lips.

“No.” The resignation in her voice was obvious, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

You weren’t really sure what else to say and it seemed like she didn’t either. You never really snapped at her like that before but then again she’d never repeatedly ignored your request before either. You made a mental note to check in with Casey and Blake to see what was going on with her. Nothing had changed between the two of you as far as you knew but her attitude towards you for the last week said otherwise.

Thankfully, your saving grace came in the form of your lover’s incoming facetime call.

“Ella.” You said softly, “I have to go, Sebastian’s on the other line and I don’t want to miss him. I’ll call you later?”

“Yeah.” She sounded a little too relieved, “You go ahead. Talk to you later.”

You didn’t waste another second, slamming your thumb down on the green ‘accept’ button. Moments later, Sebastian’s beaming face appeared on the screen.

“There she is.”

Almost four years together and this man still made you blush with just one look.

“Look at you.” He cooed, leaning closer as he rolled over onto his stomach in bed, propping the phone against a pillow. “You look gorgeous, baby.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed in a line to hide your smile as you glanced down at the little nighty you were wearing. You looked like an absolute bum with the weird heatless curl thing you found online wrapped up in your hair, eyepatch things under your eyes, and a mighty patch on your chin.

“You are such a fibber, Sebastian Stan.” You tutted, shaking your head at him. You propped your phone against the laundry basket on your bed and stepped back from the camera to give a little spin.

He gasped, hooded eyes tracing down to ogle your bare legs, “Are you wearing panties under that?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting to suppress a smile. “You are absolutely insatiable, Stan.”

“Only for you, baby.” He chuckled, shooting you a little wink. “Only for you.”

You shot him a shy smile as you picked up a tank top and folded it before placing it neatly in your suitcase. “I’m not.” You admitted quietly, “Wearing panties.”

“I knew it.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh burst from your lips, “You did not.”

“God, I needed to hear your laugh.”

If you thought you were blushing hard before, you were sure you were red as a tomato now.

“I miss you so much, sweetheart.” He sighed softly, eyes locked on yours through the camera and in that moment you wished you were looking at them in real time, not through a screen.

No camera could ever bring justice to those cerulean eyes.

“I miss you more, Seb. “ You frowned a little, “I wish you could come with us tomorrow.”

He breathed out a drawn out sigh, “Me too. You know I would if I could.”

Twenty three days since you’ve been without him.

You wish you could say it got easier with time, having him away, but it didn’t. It wasn’t like this is the longest you’d spent away from him either. But for obvious reasons, it was harder to let him go this time. You were finally in a good place, you spent the holidays in complete bliss–just you and him in your own little world,then reality set back in and it was time to go to work again.

Things were going good between the two of you.

Better than good, even.

But part of you couldn’t help but wonder if that was because he was trapped up in his own little world on set in Canada and Catalina was all the way back home in Spain.

Life was easier when she wasn’t around and you weren’t the slightest bit ready for her inevitable return to the states when Sebastian finished filming ‘Fresh’ and returned to LA with you.

You knew the second she caught wind that he was back, she would hop her desperate ass on a plane first thing. And then you’d finally be forced to meet her.

God, you didn’t even want to think about what that would be like. All you knew, was that she definitely wasn’t going to like you. There was absolutely no way you were going to put up with her shi-

Sebastian called your name, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Sorry.” You shook your head, shaking yourself from those thoughts.

There was no need to get ahead of yourself. It was still January, that was a few months away yet.

“Where did you go?” He looked a little concerned, it was honestly a little cute with his brows all furrowed and his bottom lip plumped out in a small pout. “You okay?”

You laughed a little to yourself, picking up your phone before plopping on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry. I was getting ahead of myself.” You shook your head, shoulders sagging a little, “I was just thinking about when I’m going to see you next–which is around my birthday,” You waved your hand lazily in front of you, “If everything works out of course. And it just reminded me that I’m going to have to meet Catalina and deal with her and yeah.”

His expression fell a little and you felt bad for bringing it up. But you were trying to be better about communicating your thoughts and feelings so you knew it was the right thing to do.

“I kinda forgot about her.” He tried to cover his initial reaction with a small laugh but you didn’t miss the way his eyes dimmed a little. “I actually got a call from Blake today. I almost forgot to tell you.” He shrugged, chuckling to himself, “I guess she had a little solo pap walk today and in every picture she is holding her phone out in front of her, flashing her lockscreen. You couldn’t see it clearly but it was obviously one of the pictures we took in Ibiza.” He shook his head, running a hand down his face, “We took so much footage that day.”

You don’t even try to hide your grimace, nose scrunching in disgust and teeth bared, “She’s kinda pathetic isn’t she?”

“She’s embarrassing me.”

“I’m sorry for bringing her up.” You frowned, tilting your head a little as you took him in, “I was just on the phone with Ella and she’s been up my ass about taking on another project instead of going on vacation and it got me thinking about the next couple months.” You glanced away from the camera, eyes trailing over your half packed suitcase, “After this, I’ll be booked until early August–just in time for your birthday, I guess.”

“It’s alright, honey.” Sebastian shook his head, his brows pulled down and his lips pressed together as his eyes wandered over your face, “You never have to be sorry for that. We can talk about these things–we should.” He paused, dipping closer to the camera, “You can talk to me about anything–everything. We are doing so good about being open and communicating. We are in a really good spot and I don’t want to lose that because you are holding things in for my sake.”

You nodded, “You’re right.”

You bit your lip to hide a smirk, “I don’t think she’ll like me much.”

“Well,” Sebastian’s nose scrunched cutely, that half smirk that always makes your heart race split across his face, “She doesn’t like me either… But she does like the attention my name brings her so…” He gave a little shrug, “She’ll either try to mooch off you or-”

“Nah.” You interject with a short laugh, “She thinks I’m the one thing standing between her and having you completely. She’s going to make my life a living hell. I’m sure of it.”

“Don’t say that.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I won’t let her fuck with you, baby. That’s not going to happen.”

“Sebastian.” You huffed lightly, keeping your tone soft, “You and I both know you only have so much control here now. There is only so much we can do. She runs the show now and as long as she doesn’t break contract, no one is going to stop her.”

He mumbled your name, voice full of sorrow.

“It’s fine, love.” You forced a smile, one you knew he most definitely saw right through. “Seriously, it’ll all work out. Besides, what’s the worst she can do? As long as we got each other, we will be fine.”

He didn’t look fully convinced but let it go, for your sake you were sure.

“And I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I have an early flight tomorrow and would rather hear all about your day.” You shoved your suitcase over, and plopped over on your belly, “How’s my girl, Daisy?”

“Oh my God.” Your lover groaned, “You talked to her twice and now you love her more than me! This is absolutely unacceptable.”

“She’s so cute though.” You pouted, “I want to adopt her as our daughter.”

“She’s twenty three, babe!”

“So?”

—————

January 29, 2021

“Everything okay, dragă?”

You glanced up from your phone to meet Georgeta’s concerned gaze.

Your brows furrowed as you took in the messages lighting up your screen, “Yeah, just..” You shifted in your seat, shoving your phone back in your clutch. Hoping once it was out of your sight, it would be out of your mind. “I’ve been getting really weird messages and comments over the past couple days on all social media platforms.” You took a quick sip of water to clear your throat when your voice cracked, “I think it’s the same couple accounts just bombarding me but,” You trail off, shaking your head, “They are kind of nasty messages.”

That definitely didn’t ease her concern and you kinda felt bad for bringing it up but honestly it had been eating at you over the past few days and you really needed to get it off your chest.

It wasn’t unusual for you to get a gross comment here or there but since arriving at the resort down here in Mexico, it was like someone had opened the floodgates and your inbox and notifications were drowning with messages, comments, and tags. All of them shitting on your acting, your body, your clothes, your hair–everything and anything they could think of.

They were picking you apart.

And you didn’t know why.

It wasn’t like you had done anything recently. You hadn’t posted since before Christmas, and the last pap walk you did was with cast mates back on set in early december. It was quiet for you as of lately press wise, so you don’t understand what could’ve brought this unwarranted attention on.

You had planned to post a little of your trip, maybe a nice sunset picture or something to show your fans you were, in fact, alive but now you weren’t so sure it was a good idea. It wasn’t worth it to subject yourself to more hate.

Georgeta called your name softly, “What are they saying?”

You shrugged a little, brushing it off, “It doesn’t matter. I just don’t understand why this is happening all of a sudden.”

“It does matter though.” She frowned, reaching across the table to place her hand over yours, rubbing softly across your knuckles with her thumb, “It’s clearly bothering you. I can see it all over your face whenever you look at your phone.”

Just like her son, Georgeta had a talent for reading you. You could never ever get anything past the two of them.

You breathed out a soft sigh, eyes trailing the room around you as you leaned over the table, closer to her, “They’ve been messaging me, saying things like ‘Kill yourself’, ‘He doesn’t love you’ I’m not sure who they mean, not a single soul knows about Seb and I outside people we trust or have signed an NDA.” You shake your head, reaching to grab your half filled wine glass before taking a hefty sip. “A lot of shit about my body, my hair, my clothes. ‘She’s a terrible actress’, ‘She has nothing going for her’, ‘She’s ugly’. Every insult that you can think of, they’ve said it.”

“Miere.” The tone of her voice was nearly enough to make you cry, and the expression on her face didn’t help either. “That is awful. I am so sorry.” She reached for your hand again, taking your right between her own and bringing it to her lips to press a kiss to your knuckles, “They don’t deserve you or your attention. You are so much better than that.”

You blinked back the tell tale burn behind your eyes and tried with everything inside you to plaster on even the smallest of smiles. You’re sure it came across as more of a pained grimace than anything.

“Does my son know?”

“No.” You shook your head, “I didn’t want to distract him and really, it’s not like he can do anything to stop it.” You shrugged half heartedly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, “There’s nothing any of us can do. I don’t know why I’m letting it get to me. I should just turn off my notifications and log out of social media for a while.”

“No.” Georgeta nearly shouted and her eyes widened as she looked around to make sure she hadn’t bothered anyone else in the restaurant. “You shouldn’t let them control you–Don’t let them win. They do not dictate your life. So you know what…” She stopped the waiter on his way by, “Can we get the check? And a bottle of red to go?”

“Of course.” The nice young man replied, “It’ll just be a moment.”

“Georgeta!” You giggled, “Don’t you want dessert?”

“No.” She smirked, “We are taking the bottle of wine down to the beach and we’re going to drink the entire thing down by the water and then I’m going to take picture of you dancing in the waves and then,” She scrunched her nose at you, waving her fingers in your direction, “You’re going to post a few.”

Your heart wanted to burst out of your chest right then and there. Georgeta was, hands down, the best woman you’ve ever met in your entire life and she never failed to amaze you.

“Are you serious, right now? Isn’t it dark out?” Your brows furrowed and you leaned forward to whisper the last bit. “Is it even legal to bring the wine down there?”

She rolled her eyes at you, an expression you could only describe as a ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ on her face, “We literally drank margaritas on the beach earlier. This restaurant belongs to the resort, of course we can bring the fucking wine.”

“Oh my God.” Your laugh was loud, so loud it drew eyes to your table, “Did you just say ‘fuck’? Georgeta!!” You shook your head, eyes wide, “I cannot believe you just said that.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Your eyes widened even further, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your laugh, “What the– Do…Do you kiss you-your son with that mouth?”

For a second she looked a little bashful, her cheeks all rosy and her smile shy. She let out a little giggle, fingers pressed to her lips as she looked at you with wide, pretty eyes, “I think I’m a little drunk.”

“I was going to say,” You chuckled, “How much have you had to drink? Did you take a couple shots while getting ready for dinner?”

“Maybe.” She drew out her answer with a little giggle, giving her shoulders a small shrug.

Your eyes widened again, “Are you serious?” You laughed to yourself, in complete and utter shock. “I was kidding but you were serious! Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend’s mama?”

Taking Georgeta on vacation had shown you a completely different side of her. You always got on well before, you enjoyed the same things and brought something to the table that each of you lacked in other relationships–you as the daughter she never had and she as the mother figure you always lacked.

You were used to the put together, sweet, never-swore-a-day-in-her-life-and-only-had-one-glass-of-wine Georgeta. Not once had you expected to ever meet party-animal Georgeta.

And you were so here for it.

“Oh, miere, I’m having such a wonderful time with you.” She cooed, finishing her wine glass off before rising from the table. She tossed a debit card towards you, “I have to use the ladys room before we go to the beach,” She pointed at you, shooting you a stern look, “Use that card to pay for dinner. I’ll know if you don’t.”

You laughed, “Sure. Hurry though, there is more fun to be had.”

You watched her go, not missing the way she pulled her phone from her own clutch before she disappeared down the hall. You had no doubt she was calling Sebastian to tell him about what was going on. He was probably trying to get a hold of you both if the two missed phone calls you found waiting for you when you drew your own phone out of your clutch while waiting for the waiter to return with your bill and wine.

You should’ve told him about what was going down–the hate you were receiving. Thinking about it now, you admit it was wrong, especially after talking about communicating more and expressing your feelings. You honestly hadn’t thought it was a big deal and part of you was hoping that it would just blow over in a couple days. And you hadn’t told Georgeta not to say anything to him either so there was no doubt he was hearing about it at this very moment. She clearly had no filter when she had one too many glasses of wine.

That was fine, you could explain it to him later.

He wouldn’t necessarily be mad, he’d be upset for you if anything.

And maybe he’d have a better idea about it than you. Especially the comments about this undisclosed ‘he’ these accounts were messaging you about.

Could it be about him?

It’s possible but unless it was someone close to you targeting you that didn’t make sense. You meant it when you said no one outside of who you wanted to know, knew about your relationship. You had always been careful about sharing that piece of information and being mindful when in public, even more so with this fauxmance in full swing.

Maybe you were overthinking it, it was probably just some fan pissed off that you worked with their favorite. You just wrapped filming with Rege, you work with Henry regularly, and your next project that was announced in early December was with Pedro Pascal. They were all known heartthrobs, and naturally they all had jealous fangirls.

Either way, you would put it out of your mind for the night–heck, maybe even the rest of this vacation and actually enjoy yourself.

—————

“Are you sure you’re good?”

Not in a million years did you ever think you’d be tucking your boyfriend’s drunk mother in for bed, yet here you were.

Georgeta giggled loudly, directly into your ear, “I’m great, meire. Oh, I love you.” She wrapped her arms around your neck, yanking you down before pressing a handful of kisses across your cheeks and forehead, “Love you so much, Fiica mea.”

Fiica mea

You hadn’t heard that one before. You made a mental note to ask Sebastian.

You laughed, using the last of your strength to untangle yourself from her after placing a kiss of your own against her forehead, “Love you too. Sleep good.”

She mumbled sleepily, eyes already closed and mouth hanging open as she snoozed comfortably in her bed. She was still dressed in the sundress she’d worn to dinner and hopefully she wasn’t too bothered that you left her to sleep in her makeup. There was no way you were going to even attempt that. Not when it took you every last bit of energy to get her up from the beach.

You were pretty drunk yourself, stumbling steps with heavy limbs as you made your way through the day space of your suite and into your own room. You snatched your phone out of your clutch and stumbled into the bathroom, shivering at the cool air nipping at your wet skin.

You’d done the photoshoot.

And you’d had the time of your absolute life running through the waves in your white, long summer dress. It was just the two of you down there and you’d gone a little buckwild. There are over a hundred photos to attest to that.

You had never felt sexier than in that moment and looking at the pictures after, you looked sexy too.

Who knew Georgita had a talent for photography?

And after tonight, she would be accompanying you to every photoshoot for the rest of your life because she was the best hypewoman you’d ever had.

You leaned forward against the counter, elbows pressed to the cool granite as you swiped through your phone. You smiled to yourself when you found Sebastian’s contact and hit call. Not even a second later and his smiling face appeared on the screen.

“Hi.” You beamed.

“Hey, baby.” He chuckled, eyes squinting a little as he took you in, “Are you wet? Are you drunk?”

You giggled a little, “Yes,” You paused, rubbing your fingers against your chin, “ And maybe.”

“Yeah, my mom sounded like it on the phone.” He shook his head, smile growing across his lips, “And I saw your instagram post, baby,” He groaned, head lolling back against the headboard, “You looked so fucking good. It’s not fair how gorgeous you are.”

“Are you sure?” You grimaced, crossing your arms over your chest in hopes to stop your shivering, “It’s not too much?”

“No baby, not at all.” And you could tell he meant it, even with the buzz in your head. “You look absolutely gorgeous, the wet dress stuck to your body–showing off your curves but not revealing too much. You look..” He waved his hands, “You look so happy and carefree. I wanted to jump into the picture and join you.”

“I love you.” Your bottom lip jutted out on a little pout, “You always know what to say and it’s never just ‘you look good’ you always give reasoning and point out what it looks good…” You pause, “Am I even making sense?” You shrug, “Your mom is a bad influence and forced me to drink two bottles of wine with her.”

He belted out a loud laugh, the sound warming you to your core, “First of all, baby, you’re shivering please take off the wet dress and either get in the shower or put your robe on. We can still talk, just do something, I hate seeing you like that when I can’t hold you or help.”

You smiled to yourself as you moved to flick the shower on and began unwrapping yourself from the dress after you propped your phone up on the counter.

“Second of all, thank you again for doing this. She needed this so bad.” He smiled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “She keeps sending me pictures and telling me all about how much she loves you and how much fun she is having. I appreciate you so much, sweetheart.”

“You don’t need to thank me, baby.” You smile brightly at him through the camera, ignoring the way he discreetly ogles you as you let the dress fall to the floor, leaving you completely bare and exposed. “You know I love spending time with her and that I love her as if she were my own.” You close the distance, picking up your phone before stepping into the shower. “I hope you know that, from here on out, she’ll be accompanying me to every photoshoot. She’s the best hypewoman ever.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You let loose a little laugh as you set the phone up on a shelf, making sure it was out of the water before dipping under the stream to get your hair wet. “I’ll send you all the pictures. I got some of her too. You’re gonna love them.”

He hummed in agreement, the sound coming from deep in his chest and sending shivers down your spine, “Of course I will. My two favorite girls–the ones I love the most in this world. I can’t wait to see them, baby.”

You paused your shampooing to give him a pout, “I miss you so much.”

“I miss you more, gorgeous.” He shot you a sad smile, “I would give anything to be with you right now, in that shower.”

You spun around, pointing a finger at him, “Are you trying to get dirty with me, Sebastian Stan?”

The laugh he let out lit you up from inside out, “No.” He tossed his hands up in a defensive stance, “Of course not. Why would I want to get dirty with my sexy, wet girlfriend while she’s showering right in front of me?” He playfully rolled his eyes, “That’s just insane!”

You giggled, “Well,”

“Are you..?”

You shrugged a little, hands trailing teasingly over your breast.

“Fuck.”

Tonight you’d indulge with him and tomorrow you could talk.

Clearly Georgeta hadn’t told him about the hate and it’s definitely something that could be dealt with later.

You were on vacation and all else could wait.

—————

Tag list

@justlovelifeblog @inlovewith3 @buckybarnesandmarvel @sleutherclaw @snugglingbucky @perlaluna @littlewhiterose

@idontwannagomrstarkk @abihaaa14 @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer @sebsgirl71479 @getofffmydick @eccentricnos @barnesml

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfic #seb stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x actress!reader

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tendergraphite · 8 months

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So Claws Out Catch My Wings Pull Their Threads Use It For Our Bedding

| Poem Composed [26/08/2022] – Poem Finalised [19/05/2023] | Timeline Began [2021] – Timeline End [2022] | - Gardens are rather liminal in nature, don't you think? You visit them, but can never stay. For that reason, they're a lot like an actors' stage: You go to one for dinner parties full of gown and cake—or dates under bouquets of bushel, with arms caressed and torsos cradled.

They are places of performance, that I can assure.

I, for one, go to such a place to ponder; Years have startled around me, you see, non the same nor the luckiest. I’d yet to become a person, long since given up on the idea of an identity. A soul is their memories—or so ones told—to whom that makes my own being I am uncertain, as before the dawns my memories are aloft; A true series of misfortunes to have their mere drafts swept into lost paper-bins, stolen by the gardens morrow.

I'd often catch myself in a murmur, too: ‘’What kind of person had I been? I can no longer recall...'' Such a question cannot meet truth, for if answered by another's memory it is destined to be unfaithful—but therein lies their peculiar value: The ability to remember, and to do so falsely, for another's hand to form anew who I’d been.

With a fraying mind such as my own, it’s alluring for another to grasp and pull—One page, now in two. It’s fragile, in all earnestness; No longer is it a question of if someone will unravel me, but of whom, and of whether I'll let them be the one to do so.

During my accepted absence from reality, I'd scrutinized the gardens' everchanging inhabitants. The space often used for rent, I'd seen a theatre's stage and it's actors come and go, it's fresh creaking beams quick to build and quick to depart—Each scholar's display of passion proving incoherent to the likes of myself, as they’d all proclaim art to be of life itself. But my own is such a smear—The gift of an understanding for such tales I perfectly lacked.

But the day would turn, and from my tree's shade I’d be handed a script. I must’ve been mistaken for a student, as in place of the missing, I’d sat—not that it matters now, as thus forth my role would be uttered; I was to be the Harvest withering, the Feathered Fox—My domain of hot wine and quaking minds, paws woven from thorn and bundles of restless sticks.

I'd be put centre stage, skin prickling at the rise of a directors voice, it's commanding force heaving my eroded corpse into motion: ''Open your eyes, become your role.'' A clapped hand ''Ears high!'' And I'd bounce—bushy tail a spiralling sprout, and new muzzle stretching wide into a rancid howling snarl.

Without a doubt I knew, truly—I'd become the Harvests embodiment, it's Scythe—And upon the rise of red licked ears, they'd catch the early Vernal-equinox's festival songs, and pine. Fresh as a newborn, I would leap—Septembers candle light flickering away as plums winked back into blossoms, the soils transfiguration beneath me, stopping once I entered the waters dew of Springs May.

As my thorn took quiet rest in lush brush, I'd hear Spring's melody clear as day—And upon my sappy ambers sunrise from my paws, they'd soak up the grace of welcoming arms and lips full of joyful greeting, the soft pink curving in a perfect mirror of my own as I, in that stuttering moment—Would learn Springs Lamb could grow talons. - ‘’Now gaze upon this and understand: Things will not last, petals fly away in the wind.’’

Beauty, that's what I gazed upon—The Blossoms Lamb; throat filled with early ribbons and soothing morning song; the great awakening, the beginning of all beginnings, the rebirth. Spring is no tale for faeries, it's flowers ready to kiss wind and dreams keen to bloom.

In reality, she'd been a mere theatre student; To me, a new world.

Shy as a morning daisy, I'd admonish my delight for their melody—The Lambs retort a chirping giggle as they'd beckon me to follow in their step to the rose-bud. The garden lush with pink, its brim an overfilled glass spilling outward that we'd gather, the petals tickling our barely parted palms as we placed them within cherry-wood boxes, and filled the inside with kissed lashes.

In a hush under the honey-dew, I’d murmur that their voice reminded me of the blush of the rose, of the milky smooth skin, and the smell of sweet balm. She’d beam lightly how I smelled of blackberry, of wet moss covering tired stones.

I’d whisper of dreams, quietly daring the world to snatch my very word away—And speak of green thumbs and a home with them: ‘’It will have tinted windows, and we’ll drink fruit tea in our tomorrows.’’ Our promise. ''A backgarden, too! Askew with my dedication to you.'' A mischievous grin. ‘’We’ll be happy, always and forever!'’ I'd so sure, proclaim.

The tranquillity would be broken when a brazen voice boomed from backstage, where weeds grew untamed. ''Isn't Spring too sweet? Tacky like taffy.'' A lesser role, too loud yet for a fellow student. ''Dreams fancy is nothing but folly!'' I'd wonder why they couldn't just be quiet, and I'd cover my ear; that'll show them, that'll make them flounder away—I'd so foolishly assure my beating drum.

But Spring, ever so fleeting, would flash us by. Soon I'd be reminded: The ripest of fruits are always the first to spoil. - My brittle Autumn had leaped upon us, its howling winds beginning to creep, rippling flower beds whom were unable to handle such a harsh hand—Their lid's sagging, heavy as they’d soon wilt—With them, our bond.

Crumpled leaves would settle within Springs windpipe, leaving them speechless—She couldn’t see how my Autumn was inevitable, couldn’t conceive how rot made way for trees to grow anew.

The garden would become an endless waste, still our stage despite the disrepair as it continued on with its reluctant show. I'd reach for their peach soft hands, searching for their kindness as I’d try to alight my own dance to share—Only to discover my touch to bruise their skin like dropped apples, and smear like smudged dust from a butterflies wing.

Their heels would prance away at such a grief as they’d twirl in scarlet, beginning their very own dance I did not recognise—One of backhanded touches; One I could not join off my feathers being plucked—One two three, spinning around me—Two three four.

One by one, only small little things at first: The birds wouldn’t be allowed to make their grand journey, instead pinned to branches and forced to sing their beloved songs threw rust until no longer could they soar; And those lovely rosy cheeks, I ever yet still adored—Would pinch into a smile, fastened to high not to be a grimace: ‘’Truly’’ They’d mumble. ‘’There isn’t a sign of a thing amiss.’’ But as fingertips glanced my plume, flesh soon became noticeable—But as my frustration showed, it’d only worsen; Still, as I wept, the pricks continued on, ceaseless.

''Taloned feet against marble, a quickened pace!''

No sign of an end, no sign of an inclusion—We both knew Spring couldn’t thrive within My Fall, and knew of our choices: To sleep, or too wilt away.

My voice gruff as dried bark, I'd demand a conclusion; Springs response a clawful grip of my feather before a rough yank: She'd call the salmon pink ugly, I'd snap how I would be happy to have feathers at all.

Like a child, Spring would cry. ‘’But why! Oh why can't you just let it go?’’ Tears fat as they'd whimpered ‘’Why won’t you let us be happy!’’ At the question, I’d glare at the thorn bushes that wrapped around my scraped feet. I'd nip at my tongue, refusing to make an allowance as I turned my back: I couldn’t allow them to become comfortable in such a morbid contortion, a mockery even, of fragility.

As we parted ways, devastation would rake me frozen. I'd never gotten close enough to dance with their beginnings, and she'd never embraced my endings: I'd wail for relief from reality, my fallen fathers alighting with flame at my bare feet. Slowly the dried rotting trees whose branches and leaves had never been allowed to fall, caught. - I'd left them under my pillow case in a box, our petals—They've oranged with age, now. Yet still, they smelled the same; Even if they but an echo, in current day I pull them out and let them fly like sand between my fingers, and wonder: Is there a matching box under their pillowcase, too? Or had they put them in a drawer of forgotten things—Perhaps they left it hidden within their heart, where the thoughts that tormented them so slumbered.

I never really did know how they truly felt of the end.

I’ve always known my love to be deformed, like the very blackberry brambles that seem to sprout between my toes and wrap around my thighs—Until no one else can hold me without being pricked. But it hadn't been a delicate glass; Mayhaps they'd believed my love to be like their own, feeble. I realize now, that maybe I just never understood them.

And I'd never get the chance to know them again, a forest I had not burned down. Oh no, I'd burnt down our very stage and the garden that housed it, I'd put in ruin our very performance—I, all that remained in the charred remains.

Even if they'd survived, that audience and the story's actors—Our Spring would never come back, someone would take its place always—A new face I would be guaranteed to hate, because it would not be them; I could never be reformed the same in another's hand, I could never be Fall again; Thus, I shall forever morn my own ending.

#I've decided to stop being indesisive this blog indeed will double as a poetry blog #I will not go back on this decision #I promise #cough #really I mean it this time #poetry #poem #original poetry #poets of tumblr #stanzas

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heartsick-honeybee · 1 year

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@skye707 tagged me! Hopefully that means I'll catch a stray Riddler..

CMON Arkhamverse, fingers crossed! Jkjk.

Ten of my favorite movies in no particular order!

This was hard af actually because as soon as I read it I forgot every movie ive ever seen. Suddenly, all cinema ceased to exist. Thanks brain.

That being said I did my best as-per my recollection and am probably missing things I quite love. Woopsie.

Rules: post 10 of your favorite movies and tag 10 people.

#1: Fantasia (1941)

This one has been my favorite since I was 2 years old. Beautiful art, Disney, and Classical music. It's just a win.

#2: The Phantom of the Opera (2005)

This is all of nothing like the book and my 15 year old emo ass really wanted Christine to go with the phantom despite all the red flags.

Now that I'm an adult I think they'd have been a lovely poly couple, and Erik needs counselling. That being said it's still one of my top favorite movies ever.. Who knew Emmy Rossom and Gerard Butler could SING?

I still love to play it and sing every word, the absolute chagrin of my daughter.

#3: Queen of the Damned (2002):

Anne Rice, Vampires, a soundtrack that quite possibly shaped my entire music taste for life--

This movie is honestly terrible, but in a SO bad its GOOD way. Cult classic 100%.

For an emo 12 year old in the early 2000's this was the best shit EVER, right there beside MCR.

#4: Pride and Prejudice (2005):

SOMETHING ABOUT ME: I love books. I love THIS book. and I love this movie based on this book. -- Mr. Darcy, you are a charmer.

#5: Yellow Submarine (1968):

Another one that's been a top favorite since I was only 2 years old.

I grew up on Beatles, and before I was emo (Around 9 years old) I had a hippy phase where I only wore tie-die and listened to 60s music, with Beatles being my top. This throws me back to them days every time.

#6: Minority Report (2002)

Let's get this out of the way first: Tom Cruise is batshit crazy as a person. I completely acknowledge this. That being said I think this movie is very well done and has a very valid moral that can forever apply to society and social justice as a whole.

It also had a very short run TV Mini series in 2015 (Without Cruise) that was a continuation/sequel of the movie, which I ABSOLUTELY loved just as much. There is only 10 episodes and I was SO sad it was cancelled

#7: Encanto (2021)

By far the newest one on this list.

Good music.

I'm in love with a 50yr old RAT man.

What else can I say?

#8: Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

Another book turned movie,

ANYTHING Shakespeare is always iconic, but I think this version is absolutely my favorite. Perfect casting, perfect acting, and Dr. Willson from House is one of the main characters! (You may also recognize Professor Trelawney and Professor Lockhart from Harry Potter as your two main characters. <3 When HP first came out I can tell you I was SO excited for something different than what everyone else was because It was awesome to see them together in the same movie again, for me, since I loved this farrrrr first.

#9: 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

a 90s classic, and ALSO a modern adaptation of another Shakespeare story: The Taming of the Shrew.

It's was very well done, modernizing (For the time) while still sticking to the story. Great cast, great acting, and an icon of the 1990s despite being a story of the 1590s.

I think this movie hit home in a way that other modern Shakespeare adaptations (Such as Romeo + Juliet (1996) and She's the Man 2006)) Missed the mark on. (Although, did you remember Channing Tatum was in that? I didn't! Haha.)

#10: Digimon: The Movie (2000)

Why? I can't tell you why. When this came out was at the height of me being super into Digimon. The art is different from the show in a way that I just vibe with. The entire movie just has a VIBE to it and it brings back good memories. ALL THE GOOD VIBES.

Honorable Mentions:

Counting these as ONE:

Batman (1989) Batman Returns(1992) Batman Forever (1995) Batman & Robin (1997)

SO despite having 3 different Batmans and only two being directed by Tim Burton, these movies ARE supposed to go together.

They are hokey, and for the most part I consider them a comedic AU, HOWEVER, that will never override a few things:

Firstly, these movies are what got me into Batman and Batverse originally, before the animated series came out.

Secondly, the animated series came out BECAUSE of these movies, and was at least loosely based on them (Which is why Selina was blonde in TAS, to tie in, though they later rectified that in TNBA)

And three, the ENTIRE aesthetic of the movie AND the musical scores being by Danny Elfman are their own works of absolute art that I will ALWAYS appreciate.

@caesariawrites @pharoahkittylover @arttimeoccasionallyimtired @just-an-enby-lemon @finzphoenix @geislieb @coffeeandconundrums @ednyxmatic @sh4pes-4nd-colors @spookyvoid

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dollycas · 6 months

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Murder Outside the Lines (Pen & Ink) by Krista Davis #Review @KensingtonBooks @KristaDavis

Murder Outside the Lines (Pen & Ink) Cozy Mystery 3rd in Series Setting - Washington D.C. Kensington Cozies (September 28, 2021) Paperback ‏ : ‎ 352 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1496724631 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1496724632 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B07ZPKF5M5

With Halloween just around the corner, the fall colors in Georgetown are brilliant. As manager of the Color Me Read bookstore, coloring book creator Florrie Fox has arranged for psychic author Hilda Rattenhorst to read from Spooktacular Ghost Stories. But the celebrity medium arrives for the event in hysterics, insisting she just saw a bare foot sticking out of a rolled-up carpet in a nearby alley. Is someone trying to sweep murder under the rug? Florrie calls in her policeman beau, Sergeant Eric Jonquille, but the carpet corpse has disappeared without a trace. Then in the middle of her reading, Hilda chillingly declares that she feels the killer's presence in the store. Is this a publicity stunt or a genuine psychic episode? It seems there's no happy medium. When a local bibliophile is soon discovered missing, a strange mystery begins to unroll. Now it's up to Florrie and Jonquille to expose a killer's true colors . . . Dollycas's Thoughts It's almost Halloween in Georgetown and there is a special event at the Color Me Read bookstore. Store manager and coloring book creator Florrie Fox has invited Hilda Rattenhorst, a psychic author to read from Spooktacular Ghost Stories. When Hilda arrives everyone knows something is wrong but when she announces she saw a bare human foot sticking out of a rolled-up rug not far from the bookstore they are all taken aback. Florrie dials up Sergeant Eric Jonquille who also happens to be her boyfriend and tells him what the psychic claims she saw. When he arrives at the supposed scene there is no sign of the rug or the foot. As Hilda gets to the middle of her reading she tenses, and declares "There's a killer in the building!" and collapses to the floor. Florrie thinks it may just be a stunt but fears it is the truth. When bodies start dropping Florrie realizes the psychic may have been right. In another spooky development, the owner of the bookstore, Professor Maxwell has received an unexpected package that contains an eerie object. It's time for Florrie to grab her sketch pad and try to make sense of all the clues so she can help her beau catch a killer. She also needs to help her boss get the full story about the "gift" he has received. I was very happy to reconnect with these characters and at the perfect time, Halloween. I love that Florrie is a coloring book creator and she uses her creative side to help understand what is happening around her. It doesn't happen fast but when a doodle helps all the clues start to fall into place it is just so cool. I love the relationship she has with Sergeant Eric Jonquille. He tries to keep her out of his cases but he knows her and that her insights can be helpful. The rest of the core characters bring the quirkiness required in a cozy series. They are all cleverly created and interesting. The mystery has several light paranormal elements, which is fun in a Halloween mystery. An old mystery gets twisted up with the new one and Florrie is in the middle of it all. She notices things other people miss and she even happens to be in the right place at the right time to prevent an event from becoming dire in the nick of time. There are several twists to unwind and secrets to reveal. She follows clues to uncover a surprising component and that sets up a heck of a scary showdown. Ms. Davis is a marvelous storyteller. I have no trouble escaping into her mysteries. The characters are fun and relatable. The settings are always picturesque. The mysteries are so well-plotted and intriguing. As I expected Murder Outside the Lines sucked me in and held on tight. It was definitely A Perfect Escape. The unique coloring book covers in this series are an added bonus. Be sure to grab markers, colors, or colored pencils when you get the books.

Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent ;

Krista Davis is the New York Times bestselling author of the Domestic Diva Mysteries, the Paws & Claws Mysteries, and the Pen & Ink Mysteries. Several of her books have been nominated for the Agatha Award. Krista lives in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia with two cats and a brood of dogs. Her friends and family complain about being guinea pigs for her recipes, but she notices they keep coming back for more. Author Links: Website Facebook Pinterest Mystery Lovers Kitchen Twitter Kensington Cozies

Also written by Krista Davis

Coming May 21, 2024 Read the full article

#cozymystery #Kensington #KristaDavis #NetGalley #WashingtonD.C.

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hyperfixated-unicorn · 1 year

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I just realized that I haven't really finished any anime last year except for two: (1) Spy x Family and only because I really loved the manga and want to criticize on how they adapt it in the anime, and (2) Anohana which didn't even aired in 2022. Anyway,

Bocchi the Rock is good but I haven't picked up from episode 10. It isn't really hitting me as much as I expected. Visual gags is just not something I find funny especially coupled with a single running gag of Bocchi's anxiety. However, there is never a dull scene or "dead air" (if you can call it that) in the animation due to its creative direction and exaggerated but quirky animation. In terms of these things, it is definitely one of the best of 2022.

There is also Chainsaw Man. I have read the manga and it has great themes of alienation and exploitation in Part 1 which I really liked. However, I wasn't personally invested in it. It's not just something I come back to after I read it. On the other hand, the anime is also well done. Lots of effort is given into its "cinematic" feel and the CGI is good (people keep exaggerating how "bad" this is like it is the worst thing there is). Still, I haven't gotten past 3 episodes and only watch clips of the rest. It might be because of said personal investment, but may also be because it doesn't quite capture the grittiness of the manga despite the quality production it has.

I also watched Akiba Maid War and made it into episode 7. The first episode of this anime is perhaps the strongest I've seen in Fall 2022. That shit is just crazy! But I still haven't finished it because its high-action, fast-paced craziness is also its downfall for me. This gave the anime less time to breathe or even flesh-out its characters without rushing to the next crazy thing. I don't care about the details or the plot as much but the characters are usually something which can endear or break a series for me, and for Akiba Maid War, it is veering close to the latter.

Another set of anime I haven't finished are Lycoris Recoil from Summer 2022, My Dress-Up Darling from Winter 2022 and Ranking Of Kings from Fall 2021-Winter 2022. Admittedly, I was distracted or busy on those seasons and just forgot to catch up with those I missed or else became occupied with newer shows (which I haven't finished either *sobs*). From what I remember, I generally liked them well enough and might continue them sometime this year.

There are also sequels of animes I have loved or enjoyed previously like Mob Psycho 100, Attack On Titan, Demon Slayer and Made In Abyss. Might just add them to my PTW list and hopefully, I can finally catch up and at least put some closure to the story especially for Mob Psycho 100.

Aside from these, there are still some anime I planned to watch last year but never really gotten around to start, or started but haven't finished for similar reasons. Most of these shows are not bad and even if they are, I usually suffer sunk-cost fallacy and finish it anyway. It's just that I felt like most of 2022 was a tough year for me mentally. It was just a spill over of 2021, a continuation of anxiety and burn out which affected my overall motivation and enjoyment of things I usually liked doing. Hell, I even read less books than I wanted to in the last two years compared to any other years. This is big for me since books are the media I prefer and consume the most.

Anyway, I hope for better tides this 2023. I wish for a more stable mental health and a work-life balance I can get behind. If I ended this year with more anime or books completed, I'd count that as a win and a testament for a better year for me.

#spy x family #anime #manga #chainsaw man #bocchi the rock #books #my dress up darling #attack on titan #demon slayer #2023 #2022 #new year #anohana #ranking of kings #lycoris recoil #mob spycho 100 #made in abyss #akiba maid war

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spicysix · 1 year

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I posted 5,337 times in 2022

That's 5,224 more posts than 2021!

56 posts created (1%)

5,281 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@rachkin

@ussgallifrey

@shurisneakers

@ivenotafuckingcluetbh

@joshpeck

I tagged 2,357 of my posts in 2022

#stranger things - 748 posts

#marvel - 494 posts

#there's no shame in queueing - 400 posts

#eddie munson - 199 posts

#fics recs - 172 posts

#joseph quinn - 152 posts

#fanart - 151 posts

#steve harrington - 145 posts

#steddie - 124 posts

#st fanart - 108 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#while i had to do that with every other show and movie on phase 4 so far (except for shang chi and eternals too. coincidence?)

My Top Posts in 2022:

9. knitted sweater | steve harrington X reader

Steve knew you could knit. You’ve been knitting stuff for him ever since you got together. It was no surprise you would knit him a Christmas sweater, it was the obvious outcome.

However, you did not predict he would learn how to knit a sweater to gift back to you.

So when he handed you the package, you couldn’t help but weep at what was inside.

“I’m sorry it’s not as good as yours,” he had the audacity to apologize.

You just threw yourself at him, tears running down your face, heart swelled with pride.

“It’s perfect, love. Thank you.”

58 notes - Posted December 9, 2022

long story short (part 3/3) | eddie munson x reader

this fic is part of a series: masterlist

summary: “Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response. “Can be if you want it to.” He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

warnings: fem!reader - no physical description. no use of y/n. post s4 - canon divergence. heavy making-out, implied smut (not described).

word count: 2.3k

a/n: final part ot long story short! next up we're having 'tis the damn season. if you're familiar with miss Swift, you must imagine some angst is about to come 👀 it's gonna be another multi-chapter so if you wanna get everything as it comes out, don't forget to follow me and join my taglist 😉

day seven

12:48 p.m. The next few days after Eddie’s press conference/public audience had you going back and forth between Hawkins and Fort Wayne. The house your family was going to move to was not yet vacant, their previous owners still finishing up their own moving. But they allowed you to bring in some boxes to leave in their basement already, and Hopper had to empty the cabin for the Munsons anyway, so that’s what you were all mostly doing. With the destruction caused by the Mind Flayer last July, there wasn’t even much stuff salvageable to bring to Fort Wayne, but you were taking what you could carry.

You also took some time to visit Debrah, spend a day catching up with her. She did most of the talking, since her life wasn’t filled with trauma caused by interdimensional monsters (just some weird burning cracks in the middle of the town, but they were being taken care of already), and you were happy to listen to it. She was attending the local district Community College, not that far away from Hawkins, and wasn’t planning on moving any day now. Still a cheerleader, still planning on meeting the one there and living the american dream with him. You guessed she was just one of those people whose lives revolved around the minuscule city they were born and raised on. She wasn’t gonna leave that cycle. Well, if she was happy, great for her, you thought. A dose of normalcy was always good, to keep your feet grounded.

You only saw Eddie a few times those days, when you were leaving or coming to the hotel. Sometimes you also had lunch together - but it was never only the two of you. Part of you felt happy, because he was really hitting off with your family, the ones he hadn’t met yet, and seeing him and Will excitedly exchanging tips about D&D made your heart swell with fondness in a way you already knew would happen when you first met Eddie and told him about your little brother. He was also exchanging stories about getting high and exchanging tips about weed with Jonathan, but that was not nearly as adorable.

But it was your last day in Hawkins before you went back to California, Argyle’s Surfer Boy van cleaned and repaired for another three-day trip. You had a job back home that you were sure you’d lost already at this point, so you would have to find another one when you got there - to help with all the moving costs after your semester was over. You had no idea how Jon, Will and El would deal with their schools, but you had called some of your colleagues and asked them to talk to your teachers. You had good grades and no other classes missed since the beginning of college, so you were mostly sure none of them would care for your minor two-week absence.

Your biggest issue so far was that you already had a summer job hitched and your part of your next college tuition already paid (the other two thirds were thankfully covered by a scholarship) and wouldn’t be able to move back to Hawkins with the rest of your family on Summer. And you hadn’t told anyone that yet.

Well, that was a problem for future you.

You knocked on the door of room 107 as your family walked past you on the corridor, bidding you a ‘see you soon’. Jonathan throwing you a knowing smirk over his shoulder and you just flipped him the bird over yours.

Eddie opened the door, a faded Star Trek shirt and sweatpants hanging low from his hips. His hair all disheveled, looking like a cloud on a stormy day around his head. He smiled instantly at seeing you.

“Wanna grab lunch?” You invited.

02:09 p.m. First thing Eddie asked when you got to the diner was when the rest of your family would arrive. “They’re not coming, it’s just the two of us.” You answered.

“Oh, is this a date I’m having with pantry girl?” He provoked, but you just nodded in response.

“Can be if you want it to.”

He actually looked shocked for a moment before bringing his charm back. “Does that mean I get to kiss you at the end of it?”

“If you don’t eat something too garlicky, sure.” You winked and he laughed.

That was several minutes ago, and as you paid your half of the bill over the counter and Eddie rambled on about how Reefer Rick should hire a bugs exterminator to his lake house (how he got to that topic, honestly, you had no idea. But you liked hearing him ramble), you started to feel the butterflies in your stomach thinking if he was going to kiss you or not.

It was a long time due.

You walked back to the hotel, not that far away from the diner, in the slow pace you were already used to - for the sake of Eddie’s recovering injuries. His shoulder touched yours at every step, your pinkies intertwined at some point, and you felt like an eighth grader and her first crush.

You weren’t talking, just enjoying each other’s company. Your mind was dead set on that kiss he promised. You wondered if he was thinking about it too.

As you reached your hallway, his door was the closest and you really, really didn’t want this to be over. So you were bold enough to ask, “How ‘bout we watch something?”

You didn’t have much to pack, your ‘bag’ (if you could call it that, it was just a backpack) practically ready to go, and you were leaving first thing in the morning. You really wanted to enjoy those last few hours with him.

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60 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

long story short (part 2/3) | eddie munson X reader

this fic is part of a series: masterlist

summary: “I’ve thought about you every day.” He whispered, his eyes were deep into yours. “For five months?” You doubted. “For five months.” He stated. “I’ve thought about your laugh. About your eyes. Your cheer uniform.” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes with a smile before he went serious again. “Your kiss…”

warnings: fem!reader - no physical description. no use of y/n. post s4 - canon divergence. spoilers, i guess: max is not in a coma and eleven killed vecna and closed the portals because i said so. angst with a happy ending.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: is it considered a slow burn if they've kissed before? 👀 i'm sorry i'm too wordy on this. this is not betaed! english is not my first language. if there are any absurd mistakes please let me know. if you enjoy, please reblog and comment! 💞 you can also join my taglist. and this story has a playlist!

day five

08:31 a.m. You felt like absolute shit.

The promise you’ve made to Eddie had been broken. And it obviously wasn’t even your choice.

After Eddie woke up and the officers called the doctors, you stayed on the hallway paying attention to everything you could hear through the almost-closed door. Wayne also passed you some information after it was over. But Eddie had been in pain, of course, he was basically eaten alive by interdimensional bats, and after being assessed by the doctor - Eddie would stay one more day in ICU and then be transferred to a normal room - the painkillers made him sleep again.

You even stayed longer than that, past sunrise waiting for him to wake up so you could talk again, but then Hopper showed up with the police this time to explain Eddie’s… criminal circumstances. And you wanted to stay until after they’ve cleared his room, but Hop told you your mom was waiting for you back in the hotel and that it was indispensable that you be there as soon as you could.

So you went, of course.

And you couldn’t come back to the hospital because your mom simply rented your ears off (and Will’s, and Jonathan’s, and Eleven’s) to explain that she and Hopper were now a thing - wow, shocking! - and you would all move in together (talk about fast pacing). She asked Jonathan to take the kids to the Wheeler’s and to make sure they were safe at all times. And she took you on a race to find a house that rose up to hers and Hopper’s expectations.

And that took you both three whole fucking days. Because after seeing a few houses in Hawkins on day one, your mom decided she actually didn’t want to stay in Hawkins anymore and move to Fort Wayne instead (it was still close to and bigger than Hawkins, but not nearly as big as Indianapolis). And then you had to stay with the kids on day two, allowing Jonathan to spend time with his girlfriend, while your mom and Hopper found the perfect house. And on day three, as Hop came back to work, you went with her to Fort Wayne to close the deal on the house.

Yeah, that was exhausting.

When you were finally free to come see Eddie again, you had to get his new room number with Dustin, and you bought chocolates and flowers to bring with you. You hoped he liked chocolates. And flowers. And you hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.

As you reached his floor, there was now only one officer guarding his room. And he said that more than one person was allowed now. Wayne was in there already, of course, and Eddie was asleep.

Standing by the door, you greeted mister Munson and he turned to you at the sound of your voice. “Oh hello. There’s his angel.”

“His what now?” You asked and he chuckled.

“He keeps saying you’re his guarding angel who woke him up to ‘see the light of life again’.” Wayne made air quotes. “Both me and that curly kid tried telling him you were very much real, but he wouldn’t take it because you’ve promised you would come back to see him. And you hadn’t.” His expression wasn’t exactly stern, but it wasn’t exactly friendly either.

The guilt bubbled up in your stomach once more. “I’m really sorry, mister Munson, my mom dragged me to some family matters. I wish I could’ve come sooner.”

“I’m sure. You just gotta tell him that.” He looked at Eddie one more time before collecting his jacket from the armchair beside the bed. Only then you’ve noticed Eddie also wasn’t handcuffed anymore. Thank god - and Hopper - for that. “Don’t worry, he’s a forgiving guy.”

Wayne smiled softly at you before leaving the room. You walked further into the room, set the flowers and chocolate on his nightstand, and sat down in the armchair and took Eddie’s hand in yours.

His skin wasn’t cold anymore.

09:49 p.m. You were glad you had taken a book with you, because it took Eddie a while to finally wake up. You saw him stirring in bed from you peripheral before marking the page you were at and closing the book, tucking it back into your backpack on the floor. He was rubbing his eyes with his fists, and you adjusted in the armchair - only then he seemed to notice you.

He turned to face you. “Oh, pantry girl… You’re finally back?” His remark was dripping sarcasm, but his smile was friendly. You smirked back at him.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie. Mom dragged me with her to buy a house.”

“Oh, fancy!” He reached for a cup of water on his nightstand. “Look at that, thank you! Love expensive chocolate. And the flowers smell good from here.” He commented before drinking the water, and you smiled. You thought he would keep talking after drinking and setting the glass back on the table, but he didn’t.

“Did Dustin explain something to you? About… me?” You asked, playing nervously with your own fingers.

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72 notes - Posted October 7, 2022

it's time to go | eddie munson X reader

summary: "You took a few more breaths, feeling your heart calm down and you skin grow colder, but those resting symptoms were easily thrown out the non-existent window the second your eyes were open. Because two feet in front of you crouched down Eddie Munson, a cookie he stole halfway to his mouth as he dumbly looked at you, his own dark brown eyes wide as he seemed paralyzed from getting discovered."

warnings: fem!reader - use of "princess", "lady", "sweetheart". no use of y/n. post-S3, pre-S4. fluffy fluffy fluffy. also kinda angsty - i'm sorry in advance.

word count: 5.1k words

a/n: eddie munson brain rot is real. he's got a tight hold on me. english is not my first language! sorry for any mistakes, this is not betaed (we die like chrissy). also my first eddie fic! also! my first fic in english! also! my first fic ever posted on tumblr. go easy on me, please 🥺 rb and comment if you like! you can also join my taglist! and this story has a playlist!

08:23 p.m. You almost got knocked over by a couple randomly crossing from one wall to another to continue their make out session without even separating their mouths. You cringed just a bit, stopped for a second to let them get comfortable and continued marching through the corridor. You knew the house, you’ve been there once or twice for a Science project you’ve been coupled with the house owner - Brenda Chapman. She was on your cheer squad, and you’ve seen her today just once, dancing on top of a table with a drink in hand while her boyfriend massaged her calves and looked at her like she was a goddess descending from the sky. You kind of envied that.

Anyway, the point was that you knew the house, so you knew the pantry was all the way in the back of the corridor, the last door to the left - it was a smaller door, too, and almost the exact same color as the walls. Very discreet, so you knew that no one else would notice it enough to try and enter it, not with that much alcohol going through their veins.

You were sweating a bit, could feel your blood running hot under your skin. Your hair was probably moist and messy but at this point you just didn’t care anymore.

The door squeaked softly as you passed through it with your eyes already halfway closed, and as you closed the door behind you and rested against it with your head low, your lids went down all the way. You could feel your eyes burning a little, the panic in your head wanting to be released through tears, but you took a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn’t want to cry and ruin the little makeup you had on, it was enough that the rest of your look was already - probably - in shambles.

With your eyes still closed you patted the door behind you until you found the lock, thankfully there was a key in place that you turned until you heard the soft click that indicated the door was locked.

You took a few more breaths, feeling your heart calm down and you skin grow colder, but those resting symptoms were easily thrown out the non-existent window the second your eyes were open. Because two feet in front of you crouched down Eddie Munson, a cookie he stole halfway to his mouth as he dumbly looked at you, his own dark brown eyes wide as he seemed paralyzed from getting discovered.

You wanted to scream from the scare, but you didn’t want to be discovered too, so you just gasped quietly. He did the same and slowly rose up to a standing position, like he was trying not to scare you away.

“Uh… I’m sorry?” He half apologized, half asked, confusion so clear in his feature. He tucked the cookie back in its package, placed it back on a shelf and cleaned his hands in his dark jeans pants. You could see some of the flour crumbles flying away.

Apparently he knew who the house owner - Brenda Chapman - was, and knew you weren’t her. Otherwise, you think, he would’ve said sorry for, you know, being inside her pantry and eating her cookies, not for scaring you. You wandered if he knew who you truly were.

You hoped he didn’t.

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, and tried to smile but knew at the same moment it probably looked more like a grimace. “What are you hiding from?”

“A fight. I may or may not have denied this jock guy something he wanted to buy to…” He hesitated. You kept your facial expression as neutral as you could.

“Get high?” You suggested. You knew he sold drugs. Who didn’t?

“Well, to get his girlfriend high. Without her explicit consent, I believe.” His eyes turned away from yours. “Anyway, he was pissed, yelled at me and tried to punch me, I guess? I shoved him back and just came running inside - we, uh, we were outside in the garden. It’s where I usually stay when, you know, selling illicit substances to jocks who hate me but also can’t live without me. Or my products. Or whatever.”

He was rambling. He looked nervous. His eyes didn’t stay put, cruising around the cluttered space you were both caged in. And on you, and on what you figured was your cheerleader uniform - Debrah made you wear it.

So he thought you were one of them, maybe.

Well, you were. But, also, you weren’t.

“Yeah, sounds just about right. They can be very hypocritical.” You tried to calm him again. Yourself was already calm again after the scare, being away from the crowd and loud noises at the party was enough to tame your heartbeat.

It looked like your reassurance worked again, his eyes instantly flew to yours and he took a calm, but deep breath. He was good at disguising it, but you were also a very good people reader and knew the look on his face as a soft, surprised relief.

You thought he would continue the conversation around dumb jocks, but he didn’t. “What are you hiding from?” He retorted, tilting his head a little.

“Everything. Everyone.” You shrugged. Your eyes were no longer meeting his. “Didn’t want to be here, if I’m being honest.”

“Then why are you?”

You didn’t want to tell him the whole truth. It shook you up just thinking about it. So you shrugged again.

“My friend kind of forced me. I figured I owed her a favor for putting up with my grumpy ass, so I just gave in.”

There was a small smile on your lips - a real smile now, not just a grimace - and he smiled back at you, much wider. Debrah was a nice girl. You did owe her, she had never asked much from your friendship, never complained about the fact that you probably were kind of a terrible friend. A party was nothing based on everything she had - or, hadn’t? - been through with you.

See the full post

85 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

long story short (part 1/3) | eddie munson X reader

this fic is part of a series: masterlist

summary: "Eddie’s pale face was still all you could see. It had completely replaced all your other usual haunting images - Will’s funeral, his screams as your mom turned up the heaters, that demogorgon feasting on Bob’s limp body, El’s shriek in pain as Jon tried to pull a piece of the Mind Flayer from her leg. Probably because you knew they were safe now, out of the woods. But Eddie wasn’t."

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is not betaed! english is not my first language. if there are any absurd mistakes please let me know. i dunno how many parts this will have, but i promise to try not to take too long to post the rest. if you enjoy, please reblog and comment! 💞 you can also join my taglist. and this story has a playlist!

day one

09:19 a.m. His arms were tight around you, grounding you, comforting you - and you wished you were giving all that reassuring back just the same.

“It was so scary.” He said, quivering a bit. You pulled him even closer, as close as you could. “I was so scared. So scared. I didn’t think we would walk out alive. I really didn’t.” You felt his tears wetting your sweater. He was almost hurting you from all the strength he was putting into his lithe arms.

You closed your eyes, attempting to block out the images trying to form in your head - nothing you’ve actually seen, but your imagination was never one to be shy. But you had to stay strong, to not let creations of your mind frighten you, because you had to reassure him. He had to trust you.

You breathed deep before answering him. “I can only imagine, love. But we’re here now. You don’t have to be scared anymore. Everyone’s here. We’re safe. You’re safe.”

Lucas let go of you after another final squeeze and a sniff, and you turned around to properly see everyone else. The room was crowded, filled with so many people. The smell of disinfectant was uncomfortable, but the sight of all your friends united again melted your heart.

Max was awake now, still very shaken but much better than what you thought she would be. Both her legs were on casts and you couldn’t begin to imagine what that recovery would be like. The poor girl… But at least she was alive, that’s what you kept saying to yourself over and over.

Lucas went back to his seat in front of the window as you, El, Will and Jon went closer to the bed the redhead was lying on. The younger ones shared a hug, your siblings being careful not to hurt their friend.

Your hand went to her fire hair in a caress and she turned to you. “I’m so happy y’all are here.” She said, her voice a little dragged probably from all the medication she was on.

“We’re very glad too.” She reciprocated the smile you gave her as her eyes closed from the gentle touch on her head.

09:44 a.m. Not long after that, as the kids were catching up and resting on Max’s room, you gathered with all the older ones in the hospital cafeteria as you recounted everything that had happened since march 21st. The Cali crew, as you were calling yourself and your family (plus Argyle, bless his heart) went first, taking turns in explaining. You tried your best to retell everything El had described to you from the time she was on Nina, but told the others if they wanted they could ask her more about it later. The important part was that it was there that she learned about Henry/Vecna/001 and when she got her powers back.

As the Hawkins crew started their own version, some blanks in your story were beginning to be filled in. You felt bad about Chrissy, she was a very sweet girl from the little you knew her from the cheer squad. Another one of those rare pieces amongst so many rotten people who thought social status in high school was the most important thing ever.

“…and then! Dustin and Max were busting into Family Video and basically kidnapping our phones because they wanted to find where the supposed killer was, because they were already sure whatever was done to Chrissy was not made by human hands!” Robin had been monologuing for a few minutes already, but all of you were used to it at this point. She had no pause button.

“Didn’t help that the guy was Dustin’s friend. He was doubly worried.” Steve was able to interrupt his coworker, rolling his eyes. “Mike and Lucas also know the guy. He’s the leader from their dragons dungeon thing.”

“Dungeons and Dragons.” You corrected. Steve murmured ‘whatever’.

Nancy’s brows were furrowed and she was looking at her hands intertwined with Jonathan’s on her lap as she spoke. “Poor Eddie. Thrown into it head first. He did not deserve any of this.”

Your heart stopped.

I mean, there could be other Eddies in Hawkins. Of course it could. But why was the feeling in your gut so sickening?

“What’s his name now?” You asked. Your voice was trembling, and Jonathan immediately turned to look at you. He knew you too well.

“Eddie Munson. He’s a triple senior. Sells drugs.” Steve answered.

Fuck.

Fuckity-fucking-fuck.

Your heartbeat was a thousand miles per hour, your mouth was suddenly dry and for some reason your longs were no longer capable of doing their job.

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111 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

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#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #LONG FUCKING POST

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spaceman-earthgirl · 3 years

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Supercorptober 2021 Day 14: Flying

Fic link. Series link.

Kara’s relaxed, leaning against the pillows of Lena’s bed as she watches her best friend pack her suitcase. Lena may have invited Kara over to help her get ready for her trip, but Kara’s enjoying this more, to the point where it’s almost become a game, to see how long it’ll take before Lena makes her help.

“Don’t forget that skirt,” Kara says, pointing to an item of clothing in a pile on the opposite side of the bed, where Lena has put a few ‘maybe’ items of clothes she might take. “I really like it.”

She says it like she’s actually going to get to see Lena wearing it, but she’s not, Lena’s going to a conference out of the city for the next five days and Kara’s already missing her even though she hasn’t left yet.

Lena picks up the skirt and tucks it neatly into her suitcase before she grabs another pile of clothes and dumps them on Kara’s feet. “I thought you were here to help. Make yourself useful and fold these, would you?”

Kara pushes herself off the bed with a laugh, she knew it was only a matter of time before she was enlisted to help.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to fly you there myself?” Kara asks as she folds a sweatshirt that’s definitely one of her own. She doesn’t comment on it, but she really likes the idea of Lena wearing her clothes.

“You are not flying me across country, okay?”

Kara pouts. “Fine. But be careful, you don’t have the best history in planes, or in helicopters. And neither does Alex. Why does everyone I love keep getting into trouble mid flight?”

Lena laughs. “I think I’ll be fine.” She pauses. “Wait, Alex? I know she likes jumping off things but when did she have a bad flight?” Before Kara can answer, Lena seems to make the connection herself. “Your first save, with the plane, Alex was on that flight.” It’s not a question.

“She was,” Kara nods, wondering how this never came up before. “I saw it on the news, that her flight was in trouble, and I couldn’t just sit by and watch. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how but after a few tries I managed to take off and I caught the plane before it could crash.”

Lena frowns. “You nearly forgot how to fly? Did you not use your powers back then?”

“Not really, besides the use of my speed when I was running late.”

Lena laughs, before growing serious again. “How come you didn’t use your powers? I know you did when you were younger, you’ve told me stories of you and Alex in high school.”

“It was too dangerous,” Kara says, remembering how scared she used to be she’d be found out, that she’d be taken from the Danvers. Or worse, they’d get hurt because of her. “It was safer to hide who I was all the time, to pretend I was human, to not draw attention to myself.”

“You know you don’t have to hide around me, right? You don’t have to pretend at all, I want to know all of you."

Kara feels something catch in her chest. “I know.”

Lena reaches out her hand, covers Kara’s where it’s sitting atop the sweatshirt she’d barely managed to fold. “I mean it. I saw you the other morning, when we were having breakfast. You went to heat up your coffee with your vision but you used the microwave instead. I almost said something then but I didn’t, so I’m saying something now. I don’t want you to have to pretend around me, I don’t want you to have to hide your powers or be something you’re not. You don’t have to hide who you are around me.”

Kara thinks she might cry, feels that feeling in her chest grow until it consumes her, makes her feel warm and so very loved.

“I know,” Kara repeats, and she really does know this time. She’s always been afraid to let people see who she truly is, but she doesn’t need to hide any of that from Lena.

“Good,” Lena smiles. “Now,” Lena turns back to her suitcase and it’s only then that Kara sees the red high on her cheeks. “I need to finish packing so we can have dinner because I know you’re probably starving already.”

Kara laughs, and the thought of food almost distracts Kara, but she doesn’t let it. Something Lena said has stuck in her brain, and maybe it’s time she stops pretending about one more important thing. Lena said she wants to know all of her and this is a part of her.

“I have to tell you something,” Kara says, Lena turning to look at Kara from where she’d been surveying her suitcase. Under Lena’s gaze, she’s suddenly nervous, but she doesn’t let that stop her. “You said you wanted to know all of me and there’s something else I’ve been hiding, but it’s a part of me so I want you to know this too.” Kara takes a deep breath, catches the smell of Lena’s shampoo as she does and she lets it calm her before she lets out her last secret. “I’m in love with you.”

There are tears in Lena’s eyes, making the green even more vibrant. “You love me? I mean, I know you love me but you love me?”

Kara steps closer, takes Lena’s hands in hers. “I do, so much.”

“I love you, too.”

The words wash over Kara, she feels them slot in her heart, feeling overwhelmingly right. It feels like everything has lead to this moment. She shuts her eyes, swallows down the emotion that rises in her chest.

“Kara,” Lena says, drawing Kara’s attention. When she opens her eyes, Lena’s slightly shorter than she was before, or- “You’re floating,” Lena laughs.

Kara looks down and yes, her feet are hovering just above the floor. “Oops.”

“Come here,” Lena says, laughing again. She reaches forwards and tugs Kara lower and then a warm mouth is meeting hers, soft and wonderful.

Kara wraps her arms around Lena and she said no flying across the country, but Lena said nothing about flying in her own bedroom as Kara pulls her close, lifting her from the floor too.

“Kara!” Lena laughs, breaking the kiss, her head falling to Kara’s shoulder as Lena wraps her own arms around Kara.

“What?” Kara asks innocently as she lowers them back to the ground. She keeps her arms wrapped around Lena though, keeps her close.

“No flying,” she says, but Kara can see the smile she’s trying to hide, knows she’s not serious.

“What about kissing?”

Lena hums, like she’s actually considering it. But then she’s leaning forwards again and kissing Kara and that’s answer enough.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp fanfic #supercorptober2021

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absolutebl · 3 years

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This Week in BL

Aug 2021 Wk 2

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

This was the week of visitors from the past: The Yearbook got Mean & Prem, and Love Area got Jeff. Always nice to se familiar faces.

Golden Blood Ep 8 fin - cute ending to a series that was a whole lot softer than we had a right to expect (also higher heat), plus some light punching. So many tropes: pinky promise, ground lie, hair dry, kitchen romance, boyfriend claiming x2, boop, back hug with a striped shirt combo. (full review here) RECOMMENDED!

Love Area Ep 3 - (no subs) if this is a love triangle, I am now entirely in the 2nd leads camp (the cute pre-med across the hall) I loathe a slovenly character. Although I love a good guy uke who still knows how to protect himself and say no. Meanwhile Jeff Satur showed up looking very suave. Hooray! I think this show is good but dialogue is getting too complex for me to follow without subs. (Although I did catch that the play within a play is using “ter” which always makes me happy.)

The Yearbook Ep 5 - nothing is changing my mind that this is ITSAY meets Fault is in Our Stars. At least we finally know why they’re so devoted to one another. Plus we got the trope of passing the familial obligation of care, been a while since I’ve seen that one. And yes I did tear up. I’ve explained before: self = BIG FAT SAP.

Top Secret Together Ep 14 - (no subs) lots of EakPhob to start, my least favorite story arc, plus I have terrible second lead syndrome for the cutie younger seme. But then a ton of my two being THE CUTEST BOYFRIENDS EVAH. Look at them communicating and talking about their feelings! Yeah! Nothing from the other couples. Definitely getting Gen Y unevenness from this one.

Don’t Say No Ep 2 - I’m starting to enjoy it for the delightful shitshow it isn’t (although still kinda is). We got us an out pansexual slut character and a hilarious scene with a prostate wand. So I’m all in and disposed to enjoy myself. Honestly, with a pansexual and a prostate wand, who wouldn’t be? “Hilarious encounters with pansexuals & prostate wands” is the subtitle of my tell-all autobiography. Just FYI.

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Light On Me (Korea) Ep 13-14 - TaeKyung & ShinWoo = most terrifyingly awkward and cringe-inducing first date ever? I think so. Despite this, the frenetic love triangle persists. How will this resolve in only two eps? Also sassy TaeKyung is the BEST TaeKyung.

Given (Japan) Ep 4 - it’s still quite good and moving along a pace. I’m so glad we’re getting quality old school live action yaoi from Japan. Makes me nostalgic.

Gossip

CLEARS THROAT

Hear ye hear ye! Taiwan has a new BL movie coming called Light (from GagaooLala). It is a dark high heat movie about an undercover cop and a sex worker with themes of ownership and abuse. My Drama Listing has a good full description. Trailer & Teaser (watch both, they different)

But guess what?

Behold THE PROPHECY!

It appears to be set in a SUIT SHOP!

@heretherebedork basically willed this thing into existence.

Meanwhile, I unearthed very old news that Korea’s Color Rush (my favorite BL this year, seriously, nothing will beat this one for me) is, apparently, actually getting a second season. Which means that stinger at the end of Viki’s movie version is for realz.

(I actually don’t think we need more but I’m disposed to be pleased and confident in Korea.)

GL-based drama Couple of Mirrors is supposed to start airing. Read that “based” carefully, this looks to be censored GL. So not a bromance a... baimance? Babemance? humm erm ooo oh oh!

Romanchick!

eh, I don’t know. But you get my point.

In Case You Missed It

My Lascivious Boss one of my favorite Vietnamese BLs of this year put the full drama with eng subs up on their YouTube channel as a movie. So if you like to consume that way, you now can. I think the subs are worse and some of the heat has been cut out, so you’re better off with the original. (Full review here.)

Chinese actor Zhang Zhehan (AKA ZZH) of Word of Honor embroiled in a HUGE scandal which has resulted in him being censored, cancelled, and dropped by fans & brands. You know me, my policy is to censor the censors, so if you want the deets I would start with the link I provided, and also educate yourself about the long involved history between Japan and China. Best of luck.

Grey Rainbow (Thai BL from 2016) is popping back up on Daily Motion. Please don’t watch this. It will break you. It’s HIStory 3 level trauma. You’ve been warned.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International subs accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

This week’s best moments?

What you want more than @here & self basically willing a Taiwanese BL into existence for the Honor of Grayskull? I think that’s pretty fucking special sparkle unicorn shit right there.

Fine, well here’s other good stuff:

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floraljae · 3 years

Text

THE ART OF LOVING A VILLAIN | One

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x female reader

Themes: Hero x Villain dynamics, enemies to lovers, Hero!Taeyong, Villain! Reader, secret relationship, angst, fluff, Top tier (shitty) anime betrayals you people are going to beat me up for

Warnings: profanity, the villain is dumb, mention if a minor injury, blowing things up for funsies

Wc: 1.1k

Taglist : @jenophilia @sassyong @tenhyuckie @moanwalk @sicluvz @yutaalove @bluejaem @fullsunfluff @a10vely-yutazen @hhyungsuk @mirohtron @cupidtaes @adoreateez @at-the-end-of-your-letter @junglewoos @heephoriia @cofhees

Networks: @/ficscafe @neoturtles @kpopscape @whipped-kpop-creators @nct-writers @czennienet @kokonomi

Summary: Yet another forbidden rendezvous and you are try to figure out what you exactly feel about your lifelong nemesis.

Alternatively, illustrated band-aids from Taeyong make you feel questionable things.

A/N: I just hate how I love and hate this fic so much. @mirohtron is to blame, the reason I am stuck in my eternal hero x villain feels. I love writing this more than anything. It's quite personal as it reflects a lot of things I personally felt about the world around me haha.

This entire series is dedicated to @lebrookestore, a simp I l*ve with all my heart (even after what she does to me with all her fics ;-;)

The breath you were holding in for what seemed like ages escaped your lips. It was long, exhausted- a little frustrated, even. You hated waiting. And if it were the roof of just one of the thousands of skyscrapers in Seoul, the annoyance was definitely a little more. Waiting alone in those uneventful places was nothing but a mere waste of your time. There was nothing small enough to ruin or blowup for funsies, and you weren't heartless enough to blow up a whole building just out of sheer boredom.

It had been a tiresome day already. You'd attended classes, fed some cats on the way back to your lair and put up yet another power show to let people know they still had something to be afraid of. The air was unnervingly humid today, and your suit had stuck to your torso as if it were a drowning person who didn't know how to swim- holding onto a log of wood for dear life. Weird comparison (or metaphor, you couldn’t be arsed to even get it right), but you weren't the most poetic person.

You wondered how Taeyong would describe it. Sticky? Ew? You didn't know. He was one unpredictable being, well at least when he wasn't in his superhero suit (figuratively, he was just dumb and tended to miss a lot of shots when he puts on the crimson and black piece of clothing). Maybe he would just come up with a random word and try to make you believe it was real. He couldn't possibly lose to a villain! And especially not after what you did today. You could bet that the first thing he was going to do was sulk about you almost burning his perfect eyebrows to ashes during today's face-off.

You loved to see your enemy getting all riled up more than you'd admit. Maybe it was the villain inside you speaking. But his desperate attempts at winning an argument or the pout when he complained about causing the least damage to you were just too serotonin inducing.

When did he become such a big part of my life- you smile to yourself.

Truth to be told, he always had been one of the biggest parts of it. Whether you wanted to admit it or not.

"I'm sorry," a voice trails off right behind you, breathless, "I got-"

"Stuck in a bad traffic," you complete his sentence, your tone mocking and eyes trained on the night sky. The statement was his go-to excuse for when he’d show up late- which was almost every other day.

"Too busy trying to pick out a nice bandaid for you."

He corrects, leaning against the railing. You almost scoff at how cocky the hero sounded. You were supposed to be the cocky one here.

"Whatever."

And with that, for what seemed like an entire eternity, the both of you spent the time together in silence. He didn’t dare to mouth a single word- and neither did you. There was no malice behind what any of you wanted to say; but you didn’t even know what was holding you both back. It was becoming a habit, to be honest. Well, not in general because you still were very vocal about your own opinions everywhere else-- but not in the (almost regular) meetings with your arch nemesis.

Ironic how the both of you had so much to say when the cameras were flashing and the world he tried to protect watched. So many curses, insults, edgy slash extremely cocky remarks and frustrated warnings. But at times such as right now, your mind felt like a blank slate that had never been touched. It was comfortable though, no malice, no screaming- just comfort and some sort of warmth you hadn’t felt in ages.

Well, you were always the kind of person who thought, thinking before speaking was highly overrated (that too, was a product of capitalism in your opinion). And thus, you figured staying quiet at the forbidden rendezvous with your arch nemesis would be the best thing. He was a servant of the so-called good, after all. Righteous, sophisticated, well known and way too fragile for your own good.

“Everything’s okay,” you hear him break the silence.

“Huh?”

The hero smiles, spinning around on his heels to point at your surroundings.

“Intact, not a scratch!”

And as if the small toothy grin he’d been sporting was infectious, you felt a sudden urge to break into one as well. Anyone would mistake him for just another college student if they saw him like this, in a pair of washed denim and a shirt that he must've been wearing for the past ten days. More so, it would've been terribly difficult to believe that the otherwise calm and composed public charmer Onyxate talked like a kindergartener, always fumbling or just too excited to even properly finish his sentences at times.

“What is that supposed to mean, mr. onyxate?” you ask, biting back a smile.

Disappointed, the hero clicks his tongue. He grabs hold of your wrist, spinning your frame around as well. The brunet scans the surroundings again, “You actually didn’t blow out a single thing! That is some progress, I say.”

You scoff at his remark, “I am not that heartless, mr. hero.” But deep inside, you did know it was some kind of a progress, and of course, you wouldn't tell him that.

He chuckles, but doesn’t remind you of the time you did, as a matter of fact, had blown up a nearby water tank while waiting. He was like that, Taeyong loved believing in a better present- rather than an awful past.

The comfortable arms of silence yet again engulfs you into a warm hug. Taeyong silently studies the cuts on your hand, his slender fingers carefully caressing them. You almost let out a sound of sheer amusement as he finally takes out a few strips of band-aids he took so long to buy, the infamous printed medigrip ones for kids (that too the ones with spongebob on them), rips the adhesive, and focuses on nursing the now dry cuts.

You then look up to catch a glimpse of Taeyong’s face, just to find the moonlight washing his features in all its grace. Faint neon lights from the buildings surrounding blending with the moonlight to create hues across his profiles.You stop to admire his countenance and insides alike, thinking how someone could be so kind even to their enemy.

He was so pure, so charming. He had those beautiful brown eyes. The ones that were like a mirror which knew nothing but to reflect his innermost emotions, the ones that knew to see the best in everyone- including you, a villain who had spent more than half of her life cursing all things good. His trained hands were still gentle and soft unlike any other hero you had ever known. Tears well up in your eyes. And for once what seemed like a lifetime- you decided to let yourself get overcome with emotions.

He was the kind of person anyone, including you, couldn’t help but fall for, the kind of person you’d want to hold close to yourself, no matter what.

And it was at that moment that you realised that it wasn’t hate that you felt towards him, but admiration.

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girlmeetsliv3 · 3 years

Text

Cruel Liaisons

~~ Previously Lingerlust ~~

A/B/O!MiniMoni x Reader; Poly BTS

“When one strikes the heart of another they seldom miss, and the wound is invariably fatal.”

Release Date: May 7th, 2021 @ 12:15 p.m. (GMT-5)

Apologies for the late update. Hope you enjoy it.

Trigger Warnings: blood and gore.

February 2nd, 2022

“Please state your name for the record.”

“Jeon YN.” YN stared at the recording machine in front of her, it looked antiquated like the type that wasn’t automatically connected to a cloud or storage system. “Those types have to be manually saved. Which can come in handy.” The officer’s cleared their throats, drawing back YN’s attention. What were their names again? “We need you to state your sub-gender as well.” The one on the left spoke lowly, his voice coming out a bit tense and nervous. “Beta.” When YN tried to smell them, she noticed both were wearing scent blockers, though her sense of smell was never her strong suit.

“This is officer Park Sooyoung and officer Kim Jisoo.” The taller one stated, her tone dull, as if she rather be anywhere else. Judging by the bags under her eyes and the large cup of coffee in front of her – a bed seemed to be her choice. Officer Kim reached to the ground and placed a file on the desk, she opened it to reveal a series of photographs; five to be precise. Males and females from around a same age group are placed with one female in the center, she looks strangely familiar to YN. The rounded tip of her nose and arched brows but she can’t quite place the face. There is someone YN does recognize though, a face she saw just a few days ago.

“Anyone you recognize?” Officer Kim asks, her tone is serious but airy. The smile on her face after every sentence lets YN know that she’s the ‘good cop.’

YN points at the second photo from the left, “Him. I saw him in a missing persons ad on the news, but he didn’t look this old.” They had likely picked a picture from when he was younger, the man on the news held a bright smile. His jawline sharp and his cheekbones high but not defined. The man in the photograph in front of her had a pronounced jawline, hollow cheeks, and an ugly scowl that did nothing to mar his features. ‘K.T’ read the bottom.

“What news channel and around what time?”

“KBS, maybe late evening. I watch it before I go to sleep.”

Both officers nod, as Park shifts around on her seat. Now facing directly at YN, resting both elbows on the metal table. “Are you aware of the reason you were brought into the station today?” Officer Kim jumps in before YN can answer, “Just so you know you aren’t being charged with anything.”

Yes. “No, I don’t know.” She shrugged, keeping her eyes level and gaze neither too intense nor too bored.

“You’re here due to your affiliation with Alpha’s Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin,” Park spoke, “They’re your employers, correct?” There was an edge to her voice that YN recognized. Many people weren’t fond of them – many had a reason not to be.

“Yes.” YN nods.

“How long have you worked for them?” Kim asks.

YN notes how neither women are writing anything down, nor looking towards the one-sided mirror behind them. Are they perhaps recording this with a second device? If that’s the case it's not just her voice YN must be cautious of, but her expressions as well. “Around nine months, I’m their housekeeper and take care of Hyunwoo.” After a bit of silence from the police, she elaborates more, “I cook, clean, and help the child with his homework.”

“That’s quite a lot for just one person. Especially considering you have little background in those areas before you were hired, correct?”

They’re trying to bait me. “I’m used to doing those things at home.” YN shrugs, she can see the growing frown on Park’s features.

“How exactly did you hear about the job?” Kim leans forward, but one of her hands drops below the table. Park’s eyes dart over to her partner for a second, but YN catches it. Kim likely gave her a signal or something like a reassuring squeeze, YN hopes it’s the latter. “What was the hiring process like?”

“From an acquaintance Dr. Sihyuk.” Both officers nod along, they don’t seem to recognize the name. “Bang’s dead. Unlikely anyone will find something there.” They always knew to cover their bases. “Um, normal, I guess. I sent in an application and then had an interview.”

“You made a lot of money as the Kim’s housekeeper. Did you never ask yourself where that money was coming from?” It seemed the officers were done trying to be subtle.

“No, it wasn’t my place. Plus, most of the money I earned went into paying family debts.”

“Do you know Kim Namjoon’s or Park Jimin’s source of income?”

“Again no. I just did what I was supposed to do.”

“You never thought to ask?”

“No.”

Sooyoung smirks, “Interesting how everyone around the Kim’s just accepts things at face value. Their co-workers, drivers, bodyguards, even their housekeeper just does what their told. You weren’t even a little bit curious as to how they could possibly afford the lifestyle they have?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” YN’s arms were clenching around the chair, trying to hold herself back from reacting negatively to the hassling.

“But we aren’t cats.” Sooyoung remarks and for a second YN feels like she’s lost a battle. Jisoo points to the picture in the center, it's a beautiful young woman with flowy hair and a bright smile. Her delicate features give away her omega nature. Though the closer YN inspects the picture, they’re bags under her eyes, permanent frown lines etched onto her face, a hollowness to her eyes. She looks somewhere between life and death. “Do you recognize this woman? You lingered on her a bit longer than the rest of them.”

The longer YN stares at her the more she starts to piece things together, but it still feels like she’s missing something. So she gives a generic answer. “She looks kind of familiar. Has that kind of face.”

“What kind of face?” Jisoo questions.

“Like…pretty, popular, all over billboards kind of face.”

It's enough to satisfy them for now. They slowly start removing all the pictures while leaving only the woman’s, the longer YN sees it the more unnerved she becomes. Her head begins to hurt as another migraine begins to pound at her temples. Creating a sort of hazy fog over YN’s mind. Both officers’ then hold up the picture and flip it revealing a picture of the same woman holding a young child wrapped in blankets. She looks so much happier, so full of life. Instantly YN places her, recognizing the toddler wrapped in blue velvet.

“This is Hyunwoo’s mother. The last time anyone saw her alive was three weeks ago when she just so happened to be having dinner with your employers.” Fuck.

Present

YN’s phone dings as another text from Mark appears on her screen: ‘boss wants to know when you’ll start paying?’ She groans exhaustedly, responding with ‘I have been paying. He gets half my salary every week.’ Which hasn’t made living very comfortable for YN, but she makes do with what she can.

Mark: It’s not enough princess, not with the way daddy’s been spending money.

Me: What am I supposed to do if you keep giving him money?!

Mark: That’s not up to me. So, the money?

Me: I’m looking for a second job. One that pays better.

Mark: Just go sell your eggs or something. Not like you have any use for them.

“Asshole.” YN muttered, muting her notifications. She looked up to the entrance of the fertility clinic debating whether or not to go in. It wasn’t like she had much of an option; she needed the money and fertility clinics were the only ones willing to provide big sums of money fast. Not to mention she had missed a day of work to make the appointment, which meant less money to give to Mark. I hate this. I hate this so much. YN was about to walk away, leave everything when she spotted a black BMW parked on the curve. Its driver observing her intensely. She knew what it meant.

Mark was getting pushy. Meaning his boss was getting pushy and YN didn’t need to be on the bad side of some loan shark – not again. So, she mustered up the courage and opened the glass doors, being hit with the smell of lavender and pheromones. It reeks. Nonetheless, she forced a smile on her face and walked towards the front desk. “Hello, I have an appointment with Dr. Sihyuk.”

“Unfortunately, there is a limit to how many eggs we can safely remove from you. Betas aren’t like omegas, you have a set number of eggs. Removing the majority of them would leave you infertile. We’d also be unsure of whether the eggs are useful or not without running the proper examinations which can take weeks.” Dr. Sihyuk explained as he went over YN’s medical file, each sentence uttered destroying her hope little by little.

“I understand but I am quite fertile. I carry a recessive gene from my father who is an omega. Not to mention I’m not interested in having children so I would have no use for my eggs,” she could sense the doctor’s hesitation, “unlike someone who might benefit from them.” I just really need the money.

“Oh, I know, you betas are lucky in that sense. Don’t have to worry about population growth.” Though it was said jokingly it still made YN uncomfortable, let her know he wasn’t buying her bullshit. The doctor closed the file, “Why exactly are you interested in donating your eggs? Is it for the money?” He saw right through her. At her silence the doctor sighs, “We get one of you every once in a while. Always wrapped up in some business started by a family member or mistakes you’ve made.” Sihyuk opens a file cabinet beside him and shoves her file in there, “Unfortunately for you there’s no market for beta eggs.”

YN sags exhaustion and fear taking over her, “I –” Sihyuk takes a small white business card out of the cabinet holding it out towards her. “Fortunately for you, I happen to know someone hiring. They specified only betas applied.” Hesitantly YN takes the card, “What kind of job?” Though she knows one should never look a gift horse in the mouth it feels to good to be true. “A housekeeper for an alpha couple. They’re long-time associates of mine. Give them a call you won’t regret it.”

Evening of June 20th, 2021

Hyunwoo wouldn’t stop crying. YN truly regretted feeding him chocolate before bed, he had nightmares that had not let the three-year-old rest. Though YN had time and time again reassured them there were no monsters under his bed or strange men coming to take him at night, he wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted she had stayed in bed with him and when that didn’t work cried out for his daddies. The issue being his daddies were currently busy, in the middle of their ruts with their weekly guests. Thankfully, their bedroom was across the apartment from Hyunwoo’s, or else she’d have to explain to the child that the screams being heard didn’t belong to ghost.

“I want papa! I want daddy!” Hyunwoo shrieked, snot and tears dribbling down his face. At this rate, he’d get himself sick if he didn’t permanently injure his vocal cords – or her hearing.

“I know. I know, but they’re busy right now. I can go get them later.” When their guests are gone and they’ve cleaned their bedroom. YN never quite knew how they manage to sneak them out and clean up so fast, but she didn’t question it. Less work for me.

“NO! I want them now!” Hyunwoo bolted towards the door, his little legs running as fast as they could. Though they couldn’t compare to YN’s.

She hugged the toddler, “Alright. I’ll go get your daddies but you have to promise me you’ll wait in bed.” Hyunwoo began to shake his head, “Come on Woowoo, imagine what they’ll say if they hear you threw a tantrum. What would daddies say?”

That seemed to sober him up a bit, “They would be disappointed.”

“Exactly,” YN led him back to bed, gently tucking him in. “I’ll be right back with them soon, okay?”

The hallway felt eerily long as YN struggled with how to politely interrupt without being subjected to the alpha’s rages. Ruts were an especially tricky time and there would be very little she could do to protect herself if it took a turn for the worse. Not to mention she was breaking one of the very few rules set by them: no bothering us after nine pm. YN glanced at her watch, it was currently 11:43 pm. I am so going to lose my job. But Hyunwoo needed his parents, and she didn’t want to risk the toddler running into their bedroom and being witness to something that would certainly cause trauma. Not to mention I might get sent his therapy bills. More debt. YN reached their bedroom doors. A light red hue leaking from the bottom, she willed all her courage and knocked.

“Come in, darling.” Jimin spoke, his dulcet tone sounding a little rougher than normal. Surprisingly the door was unlocked, so YN opened it. At first, she saw nothing out of the ordinary, just Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin laying in their bed. The red silk sheets, she so often had to wash, concealing their more intimate parts. It wasn’t until YN noticed the stains covering their bodies and the walls. It caused her eyes to dance around the room until she landed on what had caused such a mess: the two dismembered bodies lying on the floor. The red lighting of the room serving to conceal what the stains truly were: blood.

Namjoon beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand and YN felt obliged to obey. She could still smell the pheromones in their air, still feel their rut. Not to mention, Hyunwoo might have been following her. She locked the door behind her.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Namjoon spoke, smirking and showing off his blood-stained pearly teeth.

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junicai · 3 years

Text

infinite.

| summary | When Aria's with her boys, it feels like the sky's the limit.

| word count | 2.3k

| warnings | none

| era | circa. June 2021, filming for Hello, Future music video

The grass in the empty stadium had been liberally covered in fake flower petals - the healthy green of regularly watered grass slowly becoming overshadowed by the light pink and yellow that settled lightly atop it.

The white corduroy overalls that Aria donned were splashed with colour in fake paint splotches to compliment the petals - yellows and greens and pinks mixed with blues and oranges in a jumble of streaks that were stark against the otherwise plain material. The Doc Martens that all eight of the members had been fitted for were all padded at the toe and the heel - lest the hard rubber break away skin and cause them to bleed during filming.

Aria crunched several petals underfoot in the heavy boots as she wandered over to the other boys who had been released from hair and makeup a handful of minutes before her.

The sun was just reaching it’s highest point in the sky, the heat bearing down onto her exposed midriff and almost entirely cancelling out the cool breeze that threatened to rise goosebumps on her stomach. The floaty, bell-sleeved crop top was, in Aria’s opinion, absolutely gorgeous. She had already planned out the best way to corner Heejin unnie - one of the stylists that had an especially soft spot for Aria and her pout, when used effectively.

Shaking her freshly dyed blue hair out of her eyes, Aria broke out into a light jog to catch up to Renjun, swinging an arm around the boy’s shoulders.

“Hi!” She smiled brightly.

Renjun wrinkled his nose at her playfully. “Hey. You done in makeup?”

Nodding, Aria replied, “Yeah. They wanted to touch up the colour in my hair and stick a couple more tattoos around.” She pointed to the new daisy sitting underneath her eye, and the Make Peace, Not War written in differing fonts along her left forearm.

He aah’d exaggeratedly, patting his own upside-down HELLO on his arm absent-mindedly, before frowning lightly. “Is your colour coming out already? I thought they only dyed it a couple days ago.” Lifting up a hand, Renjun brushed away the strands in Aria’s fringe that were falling into her eyes, cringing lightly when they came away covered in blue residue.

Aria pulled away from his fingers, shaking her fringe back into place. “They didn’t have any dye left, so it’s hair chalk.” She explained.

Renjun made another noise of understanding, looking at his smurf coloured fingertips thoughtfully. When his eyes flickered up to meet Aria’s, they had a mischievous glint in them, and she barely had the chance to turn on her heel and break out into a run before Renjun was giving chase hot on her heels.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Her boots were beginning to rub the skin around her ankle raw, still not broken in enough to stand the test of a sprint through a football field, but Renjun was behind her - holding up his hand threateningly - and that was enough to keep her powering through the burn.

“Stop it!” Aria panted, laughter beginning to soil her already failing lung capacity. Her pace was lagging, but much to her relief; so was Renjun’s. With a final burst of energy at seeing the ground she’d gained on him, Aria made her escape attempt-

Only to be captured by Jeno, strong arms wrapping around her waist and swinging her around in a circle to be plopped right back down in front of a now jogging Renjun, an evil smile on his face.

“Lee Jeno!” Aria protested, wriggling against the arms that had yet to release her. “Let me goo!”

He deigned not to respond, but Aria could see the matching glint in his eye, and she resigned herself to her fate. He shared a nod of understanding with Renjun who was advancing slowly now that his victim was immobile.

“Renjun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Renjun, I’m sorry.”

His smurf-hand raised threateningly again.

“I’ll do your dishes for a week.”

With a final step, Renjun was now within a half-arms distance from Aria.

“Jenooo-” Aria cut herself off with a squeak, as Renjun dragged his fingers over the bridge of her nose, leaving behind a trail of the blue hair chalk. Aria flailed in Jeno’s grip, but he held her fast, even going so far as to tug her down into his lap on the ground to hold her steady.

Now entirely stuck, Aria resorted to flailing her limbs as much as she could, which really wasn’t a lot when Jeno tucked her legs beneath his knees, trapping her with all four of his limbs as Renjun rubbed the rest of the hair chalk off of his fingertips and onto Aria’s nose and cheeks.

Revenge enacted, her attacker eventually settled back onto his heels, fingers now chalk free - having spread most of it over Aria’s face as a replacement for blush.

Aria let out a small sneeze when the loose dust tickled her nose, blinking harshly in surprise.

With her eyes closed, she couldn’t see the hand Renjun held to his heart, or the pout that Jeno’s lips formed at the cute sound. The two men peered up at each other, silently agreeing that: Yes, it was unfair that she looked so tiny and cute with blue blush. Sometimes, life wasn’t fair, and it was coming for Renjun and Jeno’s heart in the form of a very tiny girl with a blueberry nose.

With a pat on the arm from Renjun, Jeno released Aria from his grip who promptly turned around and rained a series of light smacks onto his chest, only stopping when her rings snagged in the necklace he wore. He made no effort to help her, asides from holding her up when he accidentally leaned back and nearly took her down with him.

“Traitor!” She declared once she had untangled the jewelry. For her own revenge, she ran a finger through her hair to collect the chalk and smudged the colour onto Jeno’s cheek in a bright smear.

The shocked look in his wide eyes was enough to have Renjun coughing out a laugh, the other two soon following. The patch of grass they had settled onto was far enough away from the filming location that there were no petals to hinder Aria’s plans of laying down onto her back, hands splayed over her stomach as she laughed along with the boys.

“Guys!” It was Mark’s call that drew their attention away from the coloured chalk - although Renjun did let out another snicker at the light blue cloud that Aria’s hair left on the grass where she had been laying - and together the trio made their way back over to the other five members.

When Jeno and Renjun got distracted in comparing the temporary tattoos they had both been decorated with, Aria slowed her pace enough to let the two wander ahead without her.

She slid her focus away from the duo and towards the group that had settled in between the flower-covered goalposts, some standing, some sitting.

The bright colours of this concept was a nice change, Aria thought. She loved doing sexier concepts - don’t get her wrong, she loved the empowerment that came with it, and the twitter reactions were always fun to scroll through - but she’d missed this kind of bubble pop. Songs that made something uncurl up in your chest, complemented and encouraged by all the bright colours and messages.

When Aria had read through the lyrics the first time, she’d never felt like she’d loved a song more without hearing it. They meant something, especially to her.

Hello, Future; and all that.

And the costuming was always so fun. Short skirts were never the most ideal things to dance in, and the heeled shoes were the bane of her existence (no matter how good she looked in them) so the sturdy boots and durable overalls was a welcome switch-out.

Her boys looked happy with it as well.

With Hot Sauce, there was an infinite amount pressure to get it right. It was the first full album that NCT Dream was going to release, and it was 8DREAM. They had Mark back. They were all adults at that point. There were expectations to meet. They couldn’t pass things off as being children anymore; they had millions of eyes watching them, and it was like having someone breathing down your neck.

The pressure just kept mounting and mounting until it loomed over them all like dark clouds that you could just know held heavy rain. It was like they were debuting all over again. Re-debuting as eight again. Aria doesn’t think she remembers a single thing from the set at all. The whole thing is just a blur in her memory.

Hello, Future, this time around, is different. The members had gathered in the living room around Donghyuck’s laptop when the Hot Sauce music video aired, watching as the views racked up and positive comment after positive comment poured in. They’d read through each and every one, Mark and Aria translating the English ones that the others couldn’t read.

If Aria cried, one arm wrapped tightly around Jaemin, with the other held Mark’s right hand in his lap, then no one commented on it. It could be, because they had tears of their own in their eyes - but no one can say for sure.

They ended up sleeping on the floor that night, laptop discarded on the couch that was stripped bare of pillows and throw blankets. Curled around each other - this time with her head on Renjun’s chest and her stomach monopolized by both Chenle and Jisung lying horizontal from each other, Aria felt the tension and the fear that had been teeming underneath her shoulders for the last two months abate.

The terror that if the album had flopped, then they’d be facing disbandment like so many kneitzens wanted.

Or worse: Dream would keep going, but they’d lose Mark again.

Even the thought made something horrible curl up in the pit of Aria’s stomach.

No.

Never again.

The odd sleeping arrangements were not something that were uncommon in the Dreamies dorm (Honestly, Aria can’t remember the last time she had slept alone in a room, let alone a bed. They had a system worked out for when someone genuinely needed time alone, but otherwise, most bedroom doors remained open all night.)

This time, Mark was forcibly settled into the middle, everyone clamoring that he’d missed out on nearly three years of them - and he wasn’t getting ride of them that easily again.

To his credit, Mark went without much argument, although that probably falls down due to the fact that god, he had missed them too.

Over the weeks of practicing together, re-working the choreography for the songs that had been released when Dream was seven members only, they found their rhythm again. The one that they had lost in 2019, the one that Mark had taken with him when he’d graduated from the group.

Finding it again felt easier than breathing.

Aria thought she’d never get to see her boys smile so brightly as they did together again, giving the colourful flowers lining the grass a run for their money.

From her position a ways away from the group, she watched as Chenle immediately launched himself at Jeno as soon as he was close enough, tackling the older boy onto the ground where they both landed with a thud, Chenle’s head whipping backwards with the force.

She watched as Jeno - ever careful - had tucked a hand behind Chenle’s head to catch him even before they started to fall, his hand taking all the impact as they came into contact with the ground.

Jisung was quick to clamber up, eager to pull Renjun over to Jaemin and show him what they had been doing. She watched as Jaemin held up a small crown made of the fake petals, held together loosely by the short strands of confetti that were scattered around the goalposts.

Mark was leaning his back against the post, head tilted down onto Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck was watching Jeno and Chenle wrestle with each other - cheering for one or the other, depending on who was winning at that exact moment.

Aria watched as Donghyuck slowly slipped into silence, tilting his head down to look at Mark’s peaceful expression as the eldest seemed to almost doze off on his shoulder.

And, she watched as Donghyuck lifted his eyes, flickering from each of the members. His eyebrows furrowed, scanning the group again before he craned his neck towards the rest of the field.

When his eyes locked onto Aria’s, he raised an eyebrow, but deigned to stay quiet - choosing against startling Mark with a yell. His expression was enough, though.

Donghyuck understood Aria on a certain level that she thought not a lot of people could. She had a unique bond with each member of Dream, but Donghyuck sometimes knew what was going on in her head before she even did.

Which is why, instead of teasing her for being an introvert, or running away; when Aria strolled up to join the group he just extended the arm that wasn’t wrapped around Mark’s waist, beckoning to her.

After being firmly tucked into his other side, Aria curled into his chest with a sigh, shivering lightly when the sun slid behind a cloud for a brief second and the air felt cooler than it had all day.

Feeling her shudder, Donghyuck tilted his head down to look at her the same way he’d looked at Mark a moment ago, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“You okay?”

Aria nodded. “M’okay.”

(Donghyuck didn’t realize that his lips were blue from the chalk until Jisung pointed it out, some thirty minutes later.)

118 notes · View notes

writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

A Natural: Part 7/Finale

Description: Hybrid!Taehyung x Reader: You’re a single mom, and your son is your entire world. When you take him to get his first hybrid, his choice is pretty bewildering, until you realize that he was picking out a dad.

Posted: 04/09/2021

Tags: Taehyung, Hybrid Taehyung, Human Reader

Wordcount: 3,673

A/N: Yay! Another series finished! Thanks for loving this story!

Theo was talking animatedly with Taehyung as he was wheeled toward the house, but he got quieter as you approached the front door to unlock it, looking down at the ramp beneath the wheels of the wheelchair.

Tae pushed him through the front door, his conversation also lulling.

Theo looked around, a bit of a smile on his face. “I get to stay now, right?”

You nodded, kissing his forehead. “You get to stay now and forever. We do have to go back for checkups and therapy but you’re home and you’re safe and I’m making roast beef and mashed potatoes.”

“Yummy! Can we go play, Dad?” Theo asked, brightening instantly and sort of bouncing in his wheelchair.

“Sure!” Tae pushed the wheelchair through at a speed that made you nervous. But you knew he would never purposely endanger Theo: Theo was his pup. That was evident in all of his actions, in his conversation, and in the effort he had made to get certified so that he could be there when Theo was released.

You went into the kitchen to baste your roast and then start peeling the mashed potatoes, trying to calm your heart because your baby was finally home again. Finally, finally home again, after weeks and months of too little patience and not enough answers, and a whole sea of tears. Therapy, rehab, tests, more tests, and after all of that, you had your baby home—less mobile than before, but still your baby.

You watched Theo playing on the bed with Tae, fighting the tears and hopelessly losing because he was back where he belonged.

Peace, comfort, and everything right in the world. Nothing intruding, just your little family.

So, of course, your phone rang.

You groaned and answered it. “Yoongi? Really? We just got Theo home.”

“It happened. We’re out of a job,” Yoongi answered, sighing. “They closed the company down.”

“Ugh. You could have texted me that,” You huffed, heading back to the kitchen. The two of you had basically considered everything going on and known that the company was going to collapse. You’d almost been told as much when the two of you went in to talk to an IRS agent who wanted you to walk her through your jobs and some files and go over the discrepancies that had led to the audits.

“Yeah, well, I also had to tell you that the paperwork came in the mail today, and we close on the building next week.”

“Okay, that was worth calling me,” You said, hopping onto the counter. “What’s next on the list?”

“Fixing the building? Getting the classes organized. You finish the certification class tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s kind of pathetic,” You said, shrugging. “Too easy. Let’s make our classes thorough, yeah?”

“Agreed. Jin is already writing a teaching plan. He’s got it halfway done—at least, I hope that’s the halfway point. Jungkook’s been helping, which makes hyung happy. And he’s finished the dog-training next week. The teacher was really excited to hear about what we’re doing, by the way, and gave Jin a bunch of things. She asked Jin to sit in on her next couple of classes as her helper.”

“That’s really great. Jimin?”

“He’s hitting garage sales to celebrate getting the building, hoping to find some cheap stuff to get us started. How’s Theo?”

“He’s fine. He’s bright and happy and playing with Taehyung right now. He’s taking things well and I’m making his favorite, and he’s looking forward to everyone coming over tomorrow.” You checked your timer, then sighed. “We’re totally doing pizza, though. I’m already exhausted.”

“Okay. I can pick it up on my way over.”

“Thanks. I’ve got to go. Need to get the rest of dinner started.”

“Tell Theo we’re looking forward to playing games with him tomorrow.”

“You got it. Eat well.”

“You too.”

You slipped off of the counter, and started putzing around the kitchen making some side dishes to go with dinner.

Tae came out. “How long until dinner?”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Better keep it warm, he fell asleep.”

You nodded, letting him stop you and hold you still. “He okay?”

“Very okay. He’s so happy he’s home that he just sort of passed out.” He kissed your cheek, then sighed. “I’m so happy too. I finally get to see him and hold him. I just want to hold him and cry.”

“I’ve almost been in tears for the entire day,” You told him. “I figure once he’s in bed for the night, I’ll cry my little heart out.”

“Can I cry with you?”

“Of course you can. I would never ask you not to cry when you wanted to.” You turned to meet his gaze, gently touching one of his furry ears. “It’s been hard for both of us. It’s still going to be hard. I’m terrified of the next few days.”

“Me too. Even if they told us what to expect and how to care for him, there’re still a lot of mistakes we’re going to make and that scares the fur off me.”

You nodded. “I wouldn’t be able to make it through all this if I hadn’t had you, you know.”

Taehyung nodded. “I know.”

“Mommy! Look! I made it in my chair and through the house!” Theo called, managing the last push through to the kitchen and raising his arms in victory.

“My baby! Look at you!” You hurried over bending to kiss his face all over. “Excellent job!”

“It’s exhau…it’s tiring,” Theo finished, nodding firmly to cover for his lost word.

“Exhausting, fatiguing, tiresome, or draining,” You supplied, sharing a smile with him and moving around to the back of the chair, bringing him over to the table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Water. It smells really good, mommy.” Theo smiled up at you.

You dropped a couple kisses on his face before going to get him his drink.

Tae was bringing over the side dishes. “You want to stay in your wheelchair, or you want to sit on the chair?”

“Chair, it’s a little too high,” Theo said, touching the table edge, which was practically to his chin.

Tae nodded and pulled the wheelchair back. “Arms around my neck.”

Theo did as he was told and the two of them moved him to the dining chair.

“You okay, baby?” You asked, noticing the way Theo was sort of fidgeting in the chair as you brought the roast over.

Theo looked up at you. “It’s still weird.”

“Your legs?” You guessed, resting your hand on his cheek.

He nodded, leaning into your touch. “I don’t like it.”

“I know. Neither do we. But…there are some things in life that are out of our control.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And we’re going to be with you every moment of the way.”

Theo nodded, sighing. “I missed you, mommy.”

“I was with you,” You teased gently, but you understood exactly what he meant. It had always been the two of you, three once Tae had joined, and while he was in the hospital everything felt wrong. You didn’t get to hold him like you wanted, and it seemed like every time you had him in your arms and both of you were comfortable a nurse would come in to do something or other.

“But we weren’t home,” He said, watching Tae put the bowl of mashed potatoes down. “I really, really missed you daddy.”

Tae came over and nuzzled Theo. “I missed you more.”

“I missed you most,” Theo responded easily.

You hummed softly. “Come on. Time to eat, boys, before it gets cold.”

Theo hummed happily as you filled his plate, immediately trying to cut his own food first before ultimately letting Tae do it. “Too tired. Too hard.”

“That’s fine, kiddo,” Tae answered easily. “We all need help sometimes. And cutting things can be hard. At least you try.”

Theo nodded. “Mommy said that as long as I try, I can make it through the world.”

“Your mom is really smart,” Tae said, smiling at you. “She’s got a good history of trying her best at everything, including taking care of you and me. You chose her well.”

Theo laughed. “I didn’t choose her!”

“What?! Of course you did!” Tae objected, grinning himself. “Every kid chooses their parents!”

Theo and Tae launched into a playful debate and storytime about how every kid chooses their parent while you ate, quietly listening and just enjoying the fact that you were home.

Theo was home.

“Uncle Hobi said that he’d help me catch up to the rest of the class over the summer. I don’t want to do school work in the summer, but I don’t want to be behind. Kevin and Jun were close to being my friends, and they sent more drawings and letters than the other kids.”

“They wanted to visit, too, but they didn’t want to tire you out,” You told him. “We told them that they could come play with you once you were home.”

He grinned. “When? Tomorrow? Tuesday?”

“I’ll talk to their moms and arrange it all, and let you know. But, let’s have a couple days just our family.”

Theo nodded, but then looked back up. “Wait, does that include my uncles?”

“Of course. We’re working on projects together so they’re over quite a bit lately. And they’re coming over tomorrow, remember?” Tae nuzzled Theo, then added more potatoes to his plate. “Eat up.”

“More food?”

Tae nodded. “You need to eat well to recover.”

“Oh. Okay.” Theo started eating the extra food on his plate.

“Only eat until you’re full, though,” You instructed.

“Yes, mommy,” Theo answered, smiling at you.

Your baby was home.

——

“Woohoo!” Theo cheered as he rolled down the ramp at a speed carefully controlled by Jungkook.

You finished edging the window and set your brush aside.

The building for the training center was almost finished, and all of the licensing and training that you all needed, and the first classes were slated to start in three days.

“Over here is our obstacle course, which we think will help those training with us, as well as those in physical therapy, learn how to maneuver around things that they’ll come across on a regular day. As you can see, our happy tester is enjoying going down the ramp after he was working on trying to get up it on his own for a while.” Jimin high-fived Theo as he led the group past. “We’re also finishing painting, so try not to touch the walls unless you like paint on you.”

The people chuckled, fascinated by Jimin’s enthusiastic tour. He was showing some hybrid-shelter owners through the facility to sell them the idea of sending hybrids there for training to increase adoption rates. He’d given multiple tours so far, because he was by-far the best at it, aside from Taehyung, but Taehyung had the disadvantage of being a hybrid.

Hoseok was trailing the group, but split off to join you. “They’re practically eating out of his hand.”

“Good. We have bills coming eventually.”

“Yeah.” He sat down next to you. “But this place is amazing. You guys are going to do really well.”

“I hope so.”

Hoseok handed you the folder. “So, I looked things over.”

“Good news, then?” You asked sarcastically.

“Not bad news. He’s learning more slowly, but he’s still learning. As he grows stronger, I think he’ll be okay. He just gets tired so easily that I think it’s causing his trouble. So, once he gets stronger and isn’t as tired, I think he’ll catch up just fine. But for now, he’s going to stay just a little behind. I’m moving up with the class as part of the new program, so I can keep following his progress and helping him.” He patted your shoulder. “I already talked to the higher-ups about it. They agreed that it was important for him to be with his friends. Especially since we’re working on catching him up. And he’s still a bright kid, that catches on quickly. Tired equals distracted, distracted equals slower learning.”

“Thanks for the crayons, teach,” You answered dryly.

He grinned at you. “Hey, there’s a reason I teach kids.”

“Because you are one?”

He laughed and the two of you watched as Jungkook helped Theo work his way up the easiest ramp so he could go down the hardest again.

“He really likes this place. After we left yesterday, it was all he could talk about,” You told him, smiling as Theo cheered on his way down the ramp again.

“His friends are coming to play here, aren’t they?”

You nodded. “They’ll be here soon. Taehyung is waiting to show them in. Their mom’s were excited to hear that this was practically a playground, rainy days are hard.”

“You could market day-passes and make that one room into a playroom for kids, that’d help bring in more income. I know several sets of parents that would bring their younger kids in, especially on rainy days. And if hybrid rights ever get reestablished, you could make it hybrid friendly which would really help.”

Yoongi paused in the doorway and looked at you.

You looked back, then at Hoseok. “So, we told you you’re a shareholder, right?”

Hoseok nodded.

Yoongi pulled out a notebook and wrote the idea down. “I’ll start pricing things and we can discuss it.”

“Theo!”

You looked over as Kevin and Jun ran over.

“Hi!” Theo greeted them enthusiastically and they started talking.

Taehyung was leading in their mothers.

“I should go talk with them,” You excused yourself and headed over.

“Y/n, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for letting the kids play here, it looks great,” Jun’s mother (Debby?) said, sounding genuinely enthusiastic.

“And safe. Kevin has a habit of hitting his head on everything so I’m glad to see everything is padded. Lumps are easy, cuts are hard,” Kevin’s mother (Jamie?) added. “Plus the rain.”

You nodded. “They’re little balls of energy, but I’m really grateful for you two bringing them. Theo was so excited to hear he would get to see them.”

“Jun’s been asking about Theo almost every week. These past months must have been so hard. I don’t think I could have handled it.”

“I have a really good support system,” You answered easily, turning with them to watch the three boys playing, Jungkook keeping an eye on them to help if Theo got stuck.

The other two boys were being really thoughtful and kind and they saw the wheelchair and Theo being stuck in it as a challenge and a game, which would definitely help. They listened when Jungkook did have to help them and they already seemed to be having fun.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to hang around and keep track of them?” Kevin’s mom asked after giving you her husband’s number as well as Kevin’s backpack.

“We’d be happy to help,” Debby added.

You shook your head. “Go home, relax. Or clean, or whatever you need to get done. I’ve got several helpers on hand if I need them, including their favorite teachers. That is, as long as you’re okay with Jin and Taehyung helping out.”

“Of course, this whole law is ridiculous. It won’t last.” Debby waved a hand as if dismissing the law.

“Can’t last, more like. My favorite babysitter is a golden retriever hybrid, she’s been living in our basement ever since this happened. She was really excited to hear about this place, though, so I told her I would bring her once it was open.”

You smiled. “She’d be very welcome, and just let me know if she wants to take any of the classes.”

They nodded and left after telling their boys to behave and listen to you and the other adults.

You went into different rooms, double-checking the painting and making sure everything looked nice and correct.

Namjoon was sorting through the area rugs, placing them in order by thickness and type. This would make it easier to not only determine what carpets might be easier for people in wheelchairs, but help them and those helping them grow accustomed to the type of challenges that different carpets could present.

Yoongi was going through and making notes of different things that still needed to be finished, or other things that came to mind, as well as double checking some of the safety parameters.

Jimin was still talking with the people he was giving the tour to.

Hoseok was sorting through the spare office supplies that all of you had managed to scrounge up (a lot of yours came from your college years, like the dozen or so sticky note pads, the handful of highlighters, a plethora of paperclips and binder clips, push pins, pencils, pens, erasers, loose-leaf lined paper, binders, folders, and index cards—so many index cards), while keeping the kids in his sight should Tae or Jungkook get distracted.

And Seokjin was setting up the kitchen, which was going to be teaching cooking classes as part of companion training, but also used to show the difficulties a person in a wheelchair would face on one side of the kitchen while the other side was made for people in wheelchairs. He really liked the kitchen, and it was his pet project

Which meant you could go and look at the room that wasn’t being used yet.

Hoseok was right, it would make a really good room for kids playing. Something that would be easy to sanitize, but still allow for the kids to play. A slide would easily fit there, some rock wall-type of holds on the wall there….

You backed out of the room and stuck a sticky-note to the door, labeling it the Jungle room.

Yoongi joined you, giving you a questioning look.

“If we’re going to make a room for all kids to play in, we should have a theme for it. Kids like themes. Jungle is a good theme.”

He nodded. “That cafe I told you about, they said if we get busy enough, they’d love to partner with us and open in the cafeteria.”

“That’d be perfect. For now we’re just going to have to offer snacks by the front desk, though.”

“Jimin is on the phone with the local paper.”

You slowly turned toward him again. “What?”

He nodded. “They called, wanting to talk to someone about this place and Jimin saw me starting to stumble so I pretended I was just an assistant and told them I was handing the phone over to one of the founding members. He’s good at the talking thing. Between him, Jimin, and Tae, we should never need to talk on the phone.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” You answered, hurrying to find Jimin because you wanted to know how the interview went.

“Yes, thank you so much for your inquiries. You have a nice day as well.” Jimin hung up, and grinned at you. “Well, we’re definitely getting some attention!”

“What did they ask? What did you say?”

“Well, they asked why we started this, when we were opening, what we were offering—I added on hybrid companion training for the elderly, but I didn’t think you two would mind—and I gave them the answers, I didn’t divulge first names or anything. I used strictly last names, because even that lends us more anonymity and autonomy. I told them we wanted to help our community and those who were currently suffering—I even added that our training areas worked great for kids playing when it was raining outside because they could hear the boys laughing. They asked if we had considered opening it as a playground for the kids as well when it wasn’t being used for training and I answered yes—but I also added that we’d need another permit or two that we haven’t filed for yet. We have considered that, right?”

“We have, actually, we were talking about turning one of the rooms into a kids playroom specifically. Then if we have hybrids who have kids, the kids can play while their parents are in classes,” Yoongi said, definitely adding that to his notebook, as well as the elderly thing. “This is going to be a life-long project, isn’t it?”

“If we’re lucky,” Jimin answered cheerfully.

You left Yoongi grumbling to go check on the boys, noticing that Theo wasn’t playing as much, but he was still laughing with them and apparently they were rescuing him from pirates or something.

Taehyung wrapped an arm around your waist. “You know…I’m really proud of you.”

You relaxed into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’m really happy Theo chose you as his father.”

“I’m really happy you let him,” He whispered, then tilted your chin up to gaze into your eyes for a moment.

Then he leaned in and kissed you, softly and gently, a silent promise for forever.

“I knew it!” Theo yelled happily, definitely staring at you two when you looked over. “YES!”

“Whoops,” You whispered, trying not to laugh. It seemed an age ago that you told Theo not to expect the two of you fall in love. Told him he could call Taehyung his father if he really wanted to.

An age since Taehyung first kissed you.

A lifetime since you told Theo he could adopt a hybrid.

Taehyung laughed and kissed you again. “Thank you for my family.”

“Does that mean you don’t want more pups?” You asked cheekily.

He shrugged. “I’m satisfied with whatever I get in life. If that’s more kids, then I’m not going to complain. But Theo’s enough for me.”

You kissed his cheek and rested in his arms, knowing everything in your future was going to be worth the trials. But he was a natural at helping you through it.

You couldn’t ask for anything better than this.

–

Previous.

Taehyung Masterpost. Masterlist.

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22 @missmoxxiesworld @bryvada @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @forvever-ddaeng @ncttzuuy @briramirezalipio @givebuckysomelove @bunnyboyenthusiast @rosita7703 @veryuniquenamegoeshere @lottosehunnie @forevermoremagcon @kpopgirlbtssvt @0mysticx0 @littlewolfieposts @kerikaaria @hemmofluke @beauthiefully

#single mom!reader #single mom au #taehyung #taehyung x reader #hybrid!taehyung #adoptedfather!taehyung #hybrid au #bts fic #bts x reader #kim taehyung #V #parent au #yoongi #seokjin #namjoon #jimin #jungkook #hoseok

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i-want-my-iwtv · 3 years

Note

I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true, but if they are I can sort of see why they're going for this route? I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.

TL;DR: My kneejerk reaction was to be saddened, and I don’t like that this is starting up, and will continue to fuel, fandom drama. Ultimately, if we want peace, we’ll embrace the fact that the existence of this adaptation doesn’t take away from the existence of the books, and it also doesn't mean we have to acknowledge it.

It makes me wonder whether AMC wants us to make a storm about this. We’ll see...

After all, what makes this adaptation any more important than the graphic novels of the ’90s, the graphic novel Claudia’s Story, movie!IWTV, or movie!QOTD? In fact, many fans here on tumblr consider VC to be a trilogy only!!! and don’t accept the majority of the PUBLISHED CANON so what makes anyone think we have any obligation to swallow this AMC adaptation as some kind of gospel?

I see movie!QOTD as a buffet of ideas carried in an official fanfiction work, and I don’t accept as my headcanon the various things it changed about the books that I didn’t particularly like, such as merging Magnus and Marius (which, IMO, effectively made both characters more morally reprehensible). I accepted the things I did enjoy, like casting a Black/POC actress to play Akasha. I see this AMC adaptation as a buffet of ideas, some can be taken, and some not, it’s just another official fanfiction work.

[Anon, I need to catch other ppl up on the information, too.]

Deadline.com informs us that in the AMC adaptation for Interview with the Vampire, Jacob Anderson has been cast as Louis. I'm not familiar with him, but it looks like he’s a successful actor, from Game of Thrones and other things, he’s also joining Series 13 of Doctor Who. I’ll have to check him out from an acting standpoint!

Aside from his talent as an actor, this is by far the most controversial thing that's happened in VC fandom recently. I've been thinking about this for a few months now, talking about it privately online and offline, still gathering my thoughts. So this post is not engraved in stone, it’s initial thoughts on this.

I’m glad to see ppl talking about it and I’m sure we’ll have more public discussions. I’m trying to discuss it very carefully, but also, this is an entertainment blog, my opinions are mine alone, and I’m not looking for dogpiling on anyone, I have no obligation to respond publicly or privately to anything. Plenty of other ppl have differing opinions on this. So take all of the following with more than a grain of salt, I’m not being salty, I’m providing the links to the little info we’ve seen pulicly, I’m giving my initial thoughts, and I’m also trying to add a little levity because ultimately, again, this is an entertainment blog, and I try to add a little humor to help with such serious topics, humor can help ppl talk about controversial things.

-----

The casting of a POC/Black actor (I’m sorry I don't know the preferred terminology, let me know if you know what Anderson prefers) confirms at least one part of theilluminerdi articles that stated that Louis’ race will be different from the books. I didn’t post about these before bc I wasn’t sure how reliable theilluminerdi’s sources are (and I'm still not sure), but this was one major aspect that theilluminerdi announced before Deadline did, so now seems to be the right time to share those articles. For now, you can go check them out yourselves rather than have my reposting of the information, trigger warning: mentions of sex workers and race in the changes to the canon story of Interview with the Vampire.

>>>theilluminerdi articles from May 21, 2021 and July 15, 2021:

www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/05/21/interview-with-the-vampire-amc

www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/07/15/interview-with-the-vampire-amc-2

^Meme of Dr. Ian Malcom from Jurassic Park reads: “Your writers were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

I’m using that meme with a little levity here, clearly an AMC adaptation of vampires in which the producers/writers have chosen to change the race of a main character (arguably the original protagonist of the series) isn’t in the same VICINITY as the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that broke out of containment and killed visitors to the park, but John Hammond’s intention for the creation of that park was very good, as I assume this race change was intended. Time will tell.

“But with this place, I wanted to show them something that wasn't an illusion. Something that was real, something that they could see and touch. An aim not devoid of merit.”

“Creation is an act of sheer will.”

- John Hammond, Jurassic Park

Race is a more complicated subject than ever, so for AMC to make this bold change, I hope they have POC and Black writers on staff and are handling this very carefully. Even then, no racial group, including POC and Black people, are a hivemind, disagreements are bound to happen in the writing room, whether in good faith or bad. People have different intentions and motives, compromises will probably be made with the story in many ways, we all know how it goes with collaborations; the end product is a shared vision among multiple creators. This could be a potentially controversial adaptation, I don’t know whether they’re aiming for that or not, but with the elements it has so far, it seems to be headed that way.

Here's a comment by "Angellus" on the 5/21 article. It's undeniable that there's going to be the accusation of racism thrown at anyone who has any negative view of this change, regardless of their reasons. I find it unfair and narrow-minded that any negative response is automatically assumed to be coming from a racist point of view. To say that changing Louis' race is unequivocally an improvement fails to take into account how that change has a Domino effect on all of the other parts of the story. Not the least of which is that, if he is still a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term) that adds a whole new racist element to his owning Black/POC people, even though, apparently there were Black/POC plantation owners.

Not the least of which: How will this change impact his relationship with Lestat? Particularly when Lestat has the added issue of being described in those articles as having “mind control abilities” and “insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection,” a terrible combination in terms of consent, even in a relationship of the same race, let alone invoking Caucasian/white dominance over Black/POC people, AND Lestat being the catalyst to Louis’ questioning his sexuality:

Lestat is insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection, petulance can quickly turn to ruthless rage which causes frenzied acts of horrifically brutal violence. Lestat also has mind control abilities. Lestat initially infuriates Louis, but this soon turns to fascination which leads Louis to question his religion and sexuality.

^Screencap reads: "I love how racist everyone is in the damn comments, this doesn’t pervert the story you’re all racist and it’s disgusting. I’m looking forward to it, I hope you keep crying your salty racist tears asswipes."

It makes me question whether Angellus truly believes what they wrote, if this is an ideology, or a troll. I would suggest their use of the term “pervert” is correct though, pervert means: “alter (something) from its original course, meaning, or state to a distortion or corruption of what was first intended.” That’s what this race change does, factually. Although, in this context, “distortion or corruption” carries a negative connotation. It would take a lot to show how this change does not meet the definition or “to pervert,” though.

I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true

I agree 1,000%, I was hoping that these were just rumors. But, aside from the race change, if this were the only change, I find Louis being a brothel owner to be equivalently morally reprehensible to being a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term). Ideally, they’d change his career to something that doesn’t involve benefiting from the bodies/labor of others in any morally reprehensible manner.

I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.

He might still be a slaver. Who knows. Being morally reprehensible as a mortal man didn’t seem to me to be crucial to the story, but they still could have chosen something better. It seems to me like they want a brothel so they can have eye candy for an audience who want to see sex workers, maybe full frontal nudity.

-----

What also gets my attention is that Anne and Christopher Rice have not yet posted publicly about it, which leads me to believe that this change wasn’t their choice. They take every chance to brag when they’re proud of something, every chance to crowdsource about casting ideas or which VC books Anne’s fans liked best, etc., and in this case, as of Aug. 31, 2021, (and to be fair, maybe I missed it), I haven’t seen either of them post about this on the official VC FB, Anne Rice’s FB, Annerice.com, Christopher Rice’s FB, or christopherricebooks.com. If it had been their choice, I think they would have gladly trumpeted their credit by now, but maybe they’re waiting to do it in a specific venue. Time will tell.

#vampire chronicles #interview with the vampire #louis de pointe du lac #race #racism #tw race #tw racism #tw sex worker #jurassic park #memeything #ian malcolm #anon #ask #anne rice #christopher rice #long post #iwantmyiwtv has opinions #Jacob Anderson #vc casting

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shuahoonie · 3 years

Text

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form

Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

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