#but so many people in the notes took it to mean that all book hoarding and reading fast is inherently because of capitalism

[grandwretch]

im sorry but you cannot attribute every single human behavior to capitalism. yes capitalism has shaped literature for the worst. yes the bookish world would probably be a better place without goodreads or booktok.

however the concepts of bibliomania and tsundoku were created in the 1800s, well before there were thousands of ads for shiny covers and celebrity authors being flung into your face. people were already buying more books than they could ever possibly read when books were still made with manual typesetting. you can't blame this one on amazon.

that's not even touching the fact that bibliomania is sometimes a symptom of ocd, or the existence of hyperlexia.

sometimes, people just like to do something, and it makes them act irrationally. and, yes, capitalism corrupts that. but to pretend that all human excess is because of capitalism is simply erroneous. you need to stop pretending that eradicating capitalism will make us perfect creatures free from hedonism oh my fucking god

[thatpodcastkid]

Magnus Archives Relisten 10, MAG 10

Do we think Jonny Sims has read Twilight?

Spoilers ahead

Facts: Statement of Trevor Herbert regarding his life as a self-proclaimed vampire hunter. Statement given July 10, 2010.

Statement Notes: I just love that Trevor's episode is right after Julia's. It really lets you see the wheels turning in Jonny's head as he planned out the series.

On my first listen, this was one of the statements I truly did not believe was true. The combination of Trevor's traumatic childhood, cancer, and admission that he killed a "non-vampire" made the whole thing seem like a complex fantasy. But on the second listen, I realized that is exactly how the horrors work. They specifically target vulnerable people so that their experiences will be dismissed or explained away by more "rational" people. You don't believe Trevor because you aren't supposed to.

Jon says he can't find the "vampire teeth" in the Archives or in the "Secure Containment Room" (Btw both "Archives" and "Secure Containment Room" are proper nouns in the transcript). Is this an early name for Artifact Storage or a subsection of it? It would make sense for the Institute to have a separate facility for the dangerous artifacts, but this raises questions regarding how "secure" this facility is. Assuming this is where the real artifacts like Leitners and the table are held, Jon can access it fairly easily at the end of season 2, but he's relatively high-ranking at the institute. Would Elias ever allow an outsider into the facility like he allows them into the library? Or would that violate his desire to hoard knowledge?

Character Notes: This statement is a "photocopy of a photocopy," which speaks to Gertrude's organization. Something had to have happened to the original, whether she destroyed it or Elias took it, but she had a backup. Knowing that Trevor Herbert is still active in monster hunting, she made another copy to preserve the information. Presumably, she was hoping Sasha would find it and be able to access Herbert when she became the Archivist, but instead it was found and dismissed by Jon.

This episode also establishes that Martin was there when the statement was taken. Many fans assume Martin was hired to work in the archives, but this statement was given SIX YEARS before Gertrude's death, meaning that he would have had to work in research or another facility before the archives. Also, he's worked at the institute for at least 8 years by the time he reveals he lied on his resume, meaning he was TWENTY-TWO when this statement was given and was told that Trevor Herbert died.

The rumor of Herbert's death raises other questions. Why would that story spread? It seems to be another part of Elias' long game. If Martin--who he specifically selected to eventually be on the archival staff--believed Herbert was dead and told Jon so, then Jon would not seek him out and put himself in danger too early. Additionally, he would not be able to find the skin book and speak with Gerry before the time was right. Elias needed everything to run on his schedule.

Entity Alignment: With Trevor, there is a definite Hunt alignment. His whole life is driven by the desire to seek out and kill vampires. It's become the core tenant of his identity and drives him to forsake all personal relationships and attachments, centering his life around the fear of vampires and the need to kill them. The need to eliminate his own fear is what leads to him becoming an avatar of fear itself.

But I struggle to find a clear connection to what fear the vampires are connected to. They could be Hunt avatars or aligned creatures themselves. They have a desire to find and destroy living things, mindlessly hunting. It would also make sense for a Hunt creature to draw in Herbert and turn him into a Hunt avatar, turning him into what he fears most. This tactic is seen throughout the series with multiple fears, but I am specifically reminded of the Hunt in MAG 112 as the book club turns against itself.

There is an element of the Flesh within the vampires, however. They turn humans into food, removing their identities and degrading them into their physical existence. A large portion of the Flesh is dedicated to removing any idea of a consciousness or soul and reminding us that we are meat, which the vampires seem to do effectively.

I also noticed connections to the Stranger in the vampires. While their ultimate actions don't match with the Stranger's modus operandi, their mannerisms are similar. The primary similarity is the fact that vampires don't speak, as if they "don't have a voicebox," yet they still manage to be understood. The Stranger draws people in with its apparently human attributes, and only when it's too late do victims realize something is off. So long as the vampires are understandable, victims don't realize the not talking is odd until it's too late. Furthermore, the first vampire Herbert meets offers him rotten fruit, and many Stranger-aligned creatures and avatars give strange gits as an attempt to form a human connection while still unsettling people (tooth apple, metal heart, etc.). The fruit made Trevor uncomfortable and afraid, but he didn't leave the old woman because he reasoned she was trying to be kind in a twisted way.

But I also wonder if the vampires are aligned at all. Trevor describes them as being driven only by the vague desire to feed. While this could signal a Hunt or Flesh alignment, they don't have a connection to the rituals of these entities nor their other avatars. In Mag 111, Gerry explains "What's out there doesn't care about blood," before correcting "Yeah, obviously except for the vampires." Again, the need to consume blood could align the vampires with the Hunt or Flesh, but they don't seem to be driven by the desire to cause fear. If the vampires are fueled by an actual, physical need to consume blood for survival, could they accurately be associated with a fear-driven entity? Or are they just another monstrous thing that exists in this universe?

[chyertsar]

♔. synopsis : koschei is part of a pantheon of primordial beings who currently reside in a supernatural realm mirroring old rus' and modern russia ( known as the chyerti realm ) primarily set during world war ii, there's a much older war reaching its pinnacle ; one between two brothers : koschei, the tsar of life and viy, the tsar of death. based on the deathless book universe. leaning heavily on slavic folklore and the allegorical concepts of a paradise lost and war as a hell on earth. . . . affiliated with godwitch & rosetem

♔. koschei will do just about anything to turn the odds of the war in his favor, so plenty of room for kidnappings or crossovers into other worlds & pantheons here.

♔. as an in between realm of sorts, the chyerti realm is very easy to stumble upon by accident -- especially during life/death situations

♔. his hoard is full of stolen relics, magical weapons, tomes, and artifacts from all corners of the world, which might be necessary to obtain for your muses' own goals

♔. the man knows how to throw a buffet, but much like the fae, it's not wise to eat or drink in his country as he has various means of inducing forgetfulness to those who do. many members of his retinue were transplants from other realms who over time do not remember living anywhere else, nor a time before the war.

♔. note the default is for threads to take place either during or before wwii. koschei (in his current incarnation) does not survive past that point in human history

in the beginning, there were seven tsars and tsaritsas each responsible for the respective domains of water, salt, night, the length of an hour, birds, life and death. as the tsar of life, koschei inherited the divine knowledge of the alatyr stone and through it he was able to learn and wield life sustaining magic which he used to create all the plants, trees, crops, animals, and daemon creatures ( known as the chyerti ) that resided in his domain ( buyan, the country of life ).

working in tandem with the other tsars and tsaritsas, he also used the power of the stone to give life to other beings they molded for their own countries, such as the birds, the fish, and the first people of rus'. their tsardoms knew balance and peace for a great time, but the brothers viy and koschei, though inseparable as children, had been fated to duties and domains so contrary to one another that it was only a matter of time before tensions boiled over.

the tsar of death had eternal claim to koschei's creations and came to collect them as was necessary to curb excess and maintain nature's order. watching his crops wither in the frost and the beasts he nurtured grow sickly and lame was a terrible thing, but koschei could live with the loss. it was just as necessary to see the grass and the fruits consumed by the animals so that they could grow strong; and the animals had to be consumed by the chyerti and people in turn. death seemed sensible and unavoidable then.

but soon some animals became too dear to koschei; some chyerti became like children in the ways they regarded him; some people became his neighbors, his friends, his lovers -- each holding a unique place that could not be filled again. death now seemed cruel and intolerable. to have so short a time with his countrymen while viy could enjoy the rest of eternity with them in his ghostly realm was an insult to injury, but truthfully viy didn't care for the company.

he was a kind and receptive host, but the only guests viy really desired to receive were the other tsars and tsaritsas, his brother most of all. for them viy was willing to wait, content in the knowledge that the day would inevitably come. knowing this, koschei sought not only a means to end his grief, but to bring it unto the one he blamed it on. he took the one thing viy coveted the most -- his death -- and hid it somewhere he could never find.

the war was officially waged viy marched out of his country with his limitless supply of undead soldiers to force koschei to correct this violation. koschei refused to relent and used every advantage in his arsenal to keep viy's army just shy of victory, even if it meant leveraging the help of the other tsars and tsaritsas to do so. he also took all manner of chyerti and strangers into his druzhina ( his court and military retinue ) and trained them in the art of war and sorcery.

however, out of the natural order, most of koschei's magical creations became horrors and over the lives of his own countrymen, he grew to favor the things death normally didn't care to touch -- gold and precious stones, soft furs, books that could offer him more knowledge of the arcane arts and legendary instruments of power. above all these, the tsar of life hoarded his death, vowing to sooner see the world drown in blood than to ever set foot in his brother's country. by wwii, viy became happy to oblige him.

♔. in this verse, koschei is a primordial god modeled after both dazhbog and yarilo from slavic mythos. initially, the tsar of life was regarded as a benevolent deity in both the chyerti and mortal realms, whose borders were originally less defined.

♔. there used to be a village called yaichka in the outskirts of buyan, and although the tsar had a palace by the sea, yaichka was the place he preferred to call home. he lived happily as a farmer there, in a humble house neighboring other mortals and chyerti. they called him ivan or "the giver" back then.

♔. the village mysteriously ceased to exist after his falling out with viy. the tsar returned to his palace, which eventually became a black kremlin made of tissue and bone called the chernosvyat.

♔. the start of the war happened around the 11th century, when koschei's tales and contact with societies outside of buyan became rampant. he'd often pillage the realms to stockpile their magical weaponry and collect just about anything that caught his interest.

♔. in this time he became referred to as koschei the deathless, "the eater", or "the devil" by the mortals, while the chyerti who still followed him were considered his demons. both were thus wholly unwelcome in the mortal realm, forcing them to operate unseen or keep to the chyerti realm exclusively. by the 20th century, koschei himself has no interest in the mortal realm ; most of its magic is gone and his battles against viy are all focused within buyan.

♔. while many have tried and failed to locate koschei's death and kill him, you can assume marya morevna of rus' was the only person who managed to at least keep him imprisoned for a time until someone else accidentally let him loose. however, unless i'm writing with a marya, assume her incarnation is not currently in the picture. i want to leave room for other dynamics to get a go at being his foil too <33

[magdalinlaineauthor]

I grew up on Nickelodeon and Disney Channel, so the latest revival of ICarly was my jam, and yes, I did watch all twenty or so hours of Quinton Reviews as he talked about ICarly, Victorious, and then Sam and Cat. If you don’t know who he is or what he does, that’s probably healthy.

It took me a while to get my hands on this book, I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy, because it didn’t just sell out, but the line for a copy from the library where I get most of my books was really really long. When I finally did get it, I read the book in a week. It’s not a long book, and many people are able to read it in a day, but the content in the book was very heavy. I had to put it down several times to process it.

It also made me quite moody and way too focused on food. Because despite it being a warning against unhealthy eating behaviors and the consequences, it takes its time getting there. It takes its time working through the recovery and healing process and all the relapses she endured before she got a better handle on it. Because it’s not really a warning, but a recount of what she went through and that’s still a valid story to write about.

I don’t usually experience uneasiness while reading, although as I get older I’m finding more and more content gives me an icky feeling. This book was even different than that though, because it’s a memoir about Jennette’s lived experience and what she went through as she grew from a child to a young adult. The beginning of the book felt more put together than the falling-apart-downward-spiral of the ending. Probably because she had so much more time to think through those memories and synthesize them into solid singular episodes that encapsulated hundreds of memories.

Writing about your own trauma and sharing it is not an easy task. I often find I’m too close to the feelings and thoughts and can’t articulate them well, or my judgment gets blurred and the story isn’t very good. But this book was very well done and it’s clear she put in a lot of work to create it and work through it.

It was written in first person present tense, very close to Jeannette as she experienced each event. Her understanding of what was happening around her stayed true to her age as the book continued, so as her mother was advising her on calorie restriction, she wrote it as she took it during that moment. So all the ideology and grooming and other thoughts and bad decisions were taken at face value until she got to a point in her life when she started therapy. And even then, it took her years to actually face it all.

This book deals with a lot, and there’s so much more I could say about it, but I only have so much space here as I’m already extending into the comments. But if you watched any of her performances as an actress or if you deal with issues like parents or parental figures who hoard or withhold love based on your behavior, or any kind of food issues or body dysmorphia, or OCD and perfectionism, then you will probably find intrigue in this book. It’s packed to the brim with everything you could possibly want to trauma bond over.

On a last note, one of the most interesting parts was to see her inner feelings about acting. She’s a brilliant actress and it seemed to come naturally to her, but to then get that glimpse into what was actually going on in her head was eye opening. She hated it. It made her even more self-conscious. And if there had to be one major takeaway from this book, then it should be that just because something appears one way doesn’t mean it was actually like that behind the scenes.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CnexJZeLDAG/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[miss-may-i]

Check in Tag!

I was tagged by @crazykissim and thank you so much!

Why did you choose your URL?

MY URL was something different when I first started, but I changed it because Sian is my writing pen name and I wanted all my social media to be the same for when I start publishing my books.

How long have you been on tumblr?

I think it’s been four years. Geez, where has the time gone?

Do you have a queue tag?

I don’t know what this means, but I have tags for Miss May I.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I stated when I first got into using poses and wanted a reason to use them. Then my story telling side took over, which is cool because it definitely requires poses and a lot of them I have to make myself.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

Julian is the current main character of Miss May I. I’ll be changing my PFP through the generations. 

Why did you choose your header?

I like to imagine it as a poster for Miss May I. I’ll also be changing it through the seasons. 

What’s your post with the most notes?

Probably my pinned one.

How many mutuals do you have?

A whole bunch. Lately I’ve been making an effort to follow back all Sims blogs unless they’re Sims 4 or 2 cc since I don’t play those. 

How many followers do you have?

I don’t like to talk about my follower count, but it’s certainly much more than I ever thought I would get.

How many people do you follow?

565 but unfortunately a lot of them are inactive. I just keep following them in case they ever come back.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

I’m sure I have lol

How often do you use tumblr every day?

I try to use it at least once a day because I like to keep up with my feed and show support for other blogs, but sometimes I just forget.

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

Nope. I mostly keep to myself.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

They remind me of those old posts on Facebook that are like “share if you love jesus, ignore if you love satan.”

Do you like tag games?

Yes I love them! Always get excited when someone tags me.

Do you like ask memes?

Yep! They’re lots of fun and I’ve been hoarding some in my inbox for a while so I can use them when Miss May I finally starts introducing some new characters.

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Definitely @treason-and-plot

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

No lol

Ill tag: @igglemouse @chilliv-88 @dandylion240 @bool-prop @expirisims @medleymisty @bakersimmer @simmingshrimp @ktarsims @wannabecatwriter @sweet-berry-sims @kimbr3 @short-sim-wayz @desimetto @ktarsims

[androgynepositivity]

Rejoice! Salvation Is Free, Just Accept Jesus Into Your Life Today!

Wow, hello!

I'm going to make an example of you since you've so kindly wandered into my asks. I'm 99% sure that this is either a bot or some sort of copy/paste, but heck, you've given me a unique opportunity.

I've wanted to talk about my experiences with faith and religion (separate things) for a while now, but haven't really been able to think of a reason to bring it up. Of course I don't NEED a reason, but it's just one of those things that's not very fun to just drop on people unannounced. So, without further ado, please make sure you read this post slowly and carefully, as I don't intend to repeat myself.

I am an ex-xtian who has good faith in xtians regardless of my trauma. (xtian = abbreviation of christian)

This is to say, I myself do not have any good faith left untoward xtianity as a whole. I believe that the organized religion in itself is corrupt from the core, and has effectively lost sight of what truths it actually has within itself in favor of worldly pursuits and powers. What I have good faith in, however, is xtian people who actually practice what their holy texts preach. There are xtian people who do this, and as a former xtian, I know exactly what I'm looking for when it comes to this assessment.

So, if there are any xtians among my tumblr followers here, (especially queer ones), I'd like to kindly request your attention, because I am hoping that you will find this post refreshing in terms of non-xtians having reviews/critiques of the behavior of xtian things, as opposed to yet another queer post about how religious trauma has made them a hater of xtians and xtianity (which most of the time, if I may be frank, are valid).

If you are to follow the teachings of Yeshua of Nazareth, the "Christ", the "Messiah", you are to fully disregard the teachings of the old testament as little more than old lessons; perhaps looking to them as guides, but no more as religious law. As he has said, the old is done away with. "I am the new word/law." depending upon your translation of the verse, at least.

This is to say... there are many xtians that seem to ignore this in favor of using ancient text to support their shitty world views. As a person who has read the bible cover to cover twice, -and took notes-, I can tell you for certain that there are just... SO many verses I am tired of hearing upon the lips of bigoted xtians who want to use their religious practice as a sheepskin to cover their hateful ways in some sort of 'valid' excuse. But we've all dealt with that at one time or another as queer people.

No, the folks that are fine in my book are the ones that read the damn book for themselves, or absorb the information in some way that is not some prewritten adventure guide (bible study). This isn't to say that xtians who haven't or can't read the bible in its entirety aren't "real" xtians or something, but I mean to say that if you ever get the chance to, you really should, because it'll really help you fully understand what the faith aught to be about and what you, as a xitian, aught to focus on as a xtian. Not to mention... Lutherans literally fought for your right to be able to READ the damn thing, since catholics were absolutely fine with the arrangement of hoarding the knowledge to themselves so they could take advantage of the message and use that power to manipulate the masses, so fucking read it? (Lutherans of course are not based or perfect in any way, Martin Luther himself was hellishly racist and had all kinds of problematic takes, but you know what I mean).

So, little bot or random copy/paster, this is me telling you outright that no, I will not be accepting any saviors into my heart, yada yada. I had at one time done that whole song and dance, and I paid my nickle to the cause. I've read the book twice, I've studied, I know what I'm doing in terms of saying, "No, I don't believe this to be the one and only truth in the world." and so I am an ex-xtian, and will happily remain so.

And I had momentarily considered making this response into some sort of short, throw-away dunk on xtians with a meme or something, but I decided instead to make a long-form statement so I hopefully don't have to do it ever again. And if any of you have read this far down, thanks, first of all! I know this is a long one.

I have not yet read the book, but if there are any xtians among my followers, I want to recommend the book "Christians Against Christianity" by Obery M. Hendricks Jr. as a little side-study you can conduct. I think you'll find it refreshing to see that people within your own faith are just as disenfranchised with it as you may be at times, but that there is of course, hope. "Hope," I say, for xtians who actually practice the faith instead of using it as a thinly veiled excuse to be bigoted fuckwads to others.

So, finally, this is my overall message I wish to convey:

I am not xtian, and will never again be xtian. If I identify as anything, I am an omnist (not omnitheist, it's different); I believe that there are truths and wisdoms that can be found among all faiths, and so I aim to instead study all faiths as a way to better understand my fellow humans, humanity, and my own understanding of the world as a whole. I wish good fate upon anyone who practices something in its entirety, but I also deeply encourage others to study other faiths if ever you find yourself not understanding something. Ask questions. Look deeper. For example, there are just so many people who have thoughts and opinions on Judaism and Islam without having even once looked into what these faiths are about at their cores, so... you know, go and read about them? Learn? Be a good neighbor, damn you.

If folks have more specific questions they want to ask me, feel free! But I will not be making any more posts in regards to folks trying to evangelize me via motherfucking tumblr anon. Lmfao

-Admin (Cake/Arthur)

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother 

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit. 

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked! 

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair. 

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.” 

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped. 

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.” 

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.” 

“And?” 

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls. 

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life. 

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at. 

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically. 

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?” 

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that. 

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond. 

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling. 

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything. 

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!” 

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too. 

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people. 

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent. 

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted. 

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books. 

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.” 

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear. 

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?” 

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.” 

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?” 

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.” 

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs. 

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.” 

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose. 

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.” 

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.” 

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.” 

[drarryruinedme7]

Hello 💕 I’d like to request Draco increasingly growing jealous as Harry opens bday presents (bc he’s afraid Har won’t like his gift as much as others). Any era you’d like to write! Thank you 💕

Hi, my love, I hope you’ll like the small ficlet I wrote for this. ❤️Thanks for the prompt!!

Drarry | 1k | G | birthday presents, established relationship, fluffy fluff | beta: my darling @malenkayacherepakha

Private Business 

What the bloody hell do you give the Saviour of the Wizarding World for his fortieth birthday?? 

Draco stared helplessly at the shop windows of Quidditch Supplies. Harry fucking Potter had everything he wanted.

Every year hoards of fans and Quidditch teams and his coworkers in the Auror department, his friends, the entire Weasley family (and there were definitely too many of them in Draco’s opinion) would send Harry tons of gifts resulting in Harry having everything a man could think of.

With a sigh, Draco walked down the streets of Diagon Alley, trying to think of something clever.

They only started dating six months ago, the press had started leaving them alone barely a couple of weeks ago and Draco was now fully feeling the pressure of dating the Boy Who Lived.

After a useless and tiring walk, Draco went back home, panic rising in his chest. 

One’s fortieth birthday was something special, he couldn’t just give Harry a superficial thing! 

He took a deep breath to calm down: he still had one week. He could do it.

***

Oh, dear. Fucked. Draco was so fucked. 

They were all gathered around Harry in the garden of The Burrow. Draco shuddered as the sunset lightly kissed all of them in rosy-light. He would have never, ever, imagined himself enjoying a party at The Burrow, of all places. 

Certainly not for Potter’s birthday. Certainly not while all he could think was how beautiful the git was when he smiled with gratitude and sincere affection. 

Draco also didn’t expect to be sweating with anxiety while looking at Potter opening all his gifts. They were all simple things but Draco could tell they held a greater meaning which made Harry’s eyes water. 

Molly and Arthur gave him a portrait they commissioned of Albus, James and Lily laughing together; Hermione and Ron gave him a new tent with a note that Draco didn’t understand but Harry’s face split in a huge grin and he snorted when he saw the tent— there were dozens of other small things, and all of them made Harry snort or laugh or say “awww”: a carillon enchanted to play the songs that helped him when he was having nightmares after the War (Ginny’s gift), a book of recipes for his rediscovered passion for cooking (Neville’s)... 

His kids even planned to show him they had learned in secret how to perform a Patronus Charm all together and the party took a challenging and funny turn from that point on, with silvery thin animals running and zig-zagging all around. 

Oh, but did Draco want to disappear right there. When the gifts finally ended everyone looked at him and Draco prayed for the soil to open and swallow him whole, but that didn’t happen. 

He cleared his throat and felt heat rushing to his cheeks, surely showing a massive blush that not even the sunset light could hide. “Er.” He glanced at Harry who was looking at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “I… it’s, um, private,” Draco mumbled.

Oh, no.

Why.

The second he said it he knew how wrong, how filthy and dirty it sounded. There were kids around, for fuck’s sake, and what it looked like was that Draco had just told Harry’s entire family he bought him something sexual for his fortieth birthday.

Harry’s mouth dropped to form a comical ‘O’ while George snorted, breaking the tension in the air. In a matter of seconds, everyone was laughing and finally wandering around the garden, shooting him weird glances, smirks, someone even patting him on his arm (Charlie, with an accompanying ‘nice’). 

The worst thing of all is that after seeing all those presents, Draco really didn’t want to give Harry his own— he was sure it was inadequate and horrible and…

“So,” Harry murmured into his ear. When did he get so close to Draco, by the way?

“It’s private, mh?” He pressed his chest to Draco’s back and Draco distinctly felt Harry’s hard cock pushing against his thigh.

Great. So now Harry expected it to be something naughty and Draco would fail on every damn level with his birthday gift. 

“I just… I, er…” Draco gently disentangled himself from Harry’s embrace and turned to face him. “I think I fucked up, actually. I… if you want I can show you now, it’s in my pocket.”

Harry cocked his head with a smirk. “Oh yes, it is.” He hooked a finger in Draco’s belt loops and pulled him into a crushing kiss. 

Draco pulled out of it against his will, wanting to put an end to his agony. “No, seriously, you git!”

He took a steadying breath and fished a vial out of the pocket of his trousers. He handed it to Harry who took it with confusion written all over his face.

“It’s…” Draco straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat. “My memories… all the memories I’ve collected of you. But they’re not like standard Pensieve memories: they contain the feelings and the things I was thinking during those events too, so it will be like actually being in my head.”

Everything seemed to stop as he waited for a reaction from Harry. He was staring intently at the vial in his hands, so steady Draco wondered if he was breathing at all. 

When the silence was starting to be too dense, Draco felt compelled to talk, do anything to fill it. “I’m sorry, it sucks, I know. They all gave you these meaningful presents, but I… look, I don’t trust people easily, so I thought I—”

Whatever the rest of that sentence was, it got lost in the heat of Harry’s mouth, suddenly covering Draco’s. In a second, Harry’s body was flush against Draco’s and a smile made its way into their kiss. 

“You’re amazing,” Harry breathed on Draco’s lips. “Don’t you dare doubt it, this is the best gift you could have given me.” 

Draco finally took a breath of relief: maybe he hadn’t chosen so poorly, after all. 

[harpidiem]

Hi, you and I seem to have very similar tastes in art and in other things and as a begging artist I would like to know your art journey and any resources you used such as books and things or where you get inspiration from, thanks in advance

Hello! I'd be happy to!

I've been drawing since I was a kid, but I only started drawing seriously when I was about 12 (I wanted to become an animator, I didnt know that jobs like illustration on concept art were a thing). I never took a formal art class, expect for one that was on acrylic painting, and I didnt really learn that much there, and it was only for 4 weeks. (Maybe I'll learn to love acrylic someday, but not today).

For inspiration, I write down favorite memories of mine, and sometimes unimportant ones (memories of sitting at a gas station on a hot summer day, waiting on my dad to buy some sodas so we can get going on our trip; walking under football bleachers at night), and most times I'm a little too scared to post these because they're personal, but im working myself up to it.

I collect moodboards on interest, just whatever catches my eye, even if the aesthetics don't match. When I'm out, I take pictures of places I would like to draw later (abandoned farmhouses, old mill houses, a lighthouse far off in the water alone, a stretch of road completely covered in graffiti).

Books! Ok so I have a lot of art books but few that have actually been beneficial, so I'll post those here.

Color And Light by James Gurney: A Guide For The Realist Painter; I cannot reccomend this book more!! This book is excellent, it talks about how to paint different light conditions, and how it effects light scientifically. Very easy to understand, and Gurney is a master painter.

Adorning The Dark by Andrew Peterson. Another excellent book, and one I don't think I'll ever be over. While this is a book from a Christian standpoint, and I don't know your opinions on religion, this book for me was unputdownable. I read it cover to cover in a day, and did the same thing the next day. Reflections on self and the creative process that takes place in the mind and spiritually, and how we effect others. A simply wonderful book. Id go as far as to say life-changing.

Any Ghibli art book (I own Howl's Moving Castle, and Spirited Away.) These are excellent if youre wanting to look into illustration or character design. It doesnt give much advice, but I find myself inspired every time I open the ghibli books I have.

Sketching From The Imagination: Characters by 3d Total Publishing; this book has many MANY artists of various art styles, and they give their process and advice! Little nuggets of "Oh! Yea that makes sense." are scattered throughout the book, at least for me.

As for fiction books, I read a wide range of genres, so I can't really make a HUGE list of books I reccomend, but I can give a few that I feel have been important to me personally the last few years.

Jeff Vandermeer's Southern Reach Trilogy, and Borne Trilogy. Rick Bragg's All Over But The Shout'n, and Ava's Man, Flannery O' Connor's A Good Man Is Hard To Find, C. S Lewis's A Space Trilogy, and Madeline D'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time. Comics like Batman: The Long Halloween, Calvin and Hobbes, and Minna Sundberg's Stand Still Stay Silent have been great to read as well!

Movies and TV shows are HUGE inspirations for me, but as a general guide, I adore movies like Alien, Fury Road, Pan's Labyrinth, Lord of The Rings, Oh Brother Where Art Thou?, and TV shows like Stranger Things, Over The Garden Wall, and The Twilight Zone. Video games are important as well, like Resident Evil, Silent Hill, Kentucky Route Zero, and Death Stranding.

Anyway, heres what I have to say: Use everything. Dont be afraid to deviate from your "aesthetics". Yes, you'll feel a bit lost at times, like you have no identity, but thats a good thing for growth. When I was 12, I was dead set that my thing was extremely cartoon art styles, pokemon, and drawing dragons. While these are still great and huge inpirations, if I didn't branch out, I would be stuck in a rut.

It is not important to have a set aesthetic. Youre not an aesthetic Instagram page at heart! Find what you are drawn to, what imagery catches your eye, what symbols have meaning to you. I will change throughout my life, but my core values are still there. And I think its important to understand that, to loosely quote Andrew Peterson, that self expression is an endless, and often fruitless chase. You gotta shift your direction outward, and you'll discover things about you, good and bad.

Wow, this post is getting very very long. Apologies. Anyway, one more note. Just explore. Collect things, look for details! Note that swirl in the sand, a wrinkle next to an eye, get a feel for a place or thing. I have dozens of books that make no sense together (2 books on sharks, 1 on specifically waterplants, 5 on animal species, 2 on surgery, 1 on the history of medicine, 1 on car mechanics, 1 on martial arts, 3 cookbooks, and a book on the history of wood working.) Yes, I tend to hoard books. Get a book from the library on a subject you know nothing about once a week. Glance through it, take at least 20 minutes hopping page to page, even randomly. You'll find something! Just keep your eyes open, dont stop learning! I encourage wiki rabbit holes 100%.

And please, please dont be afraid to post new things. In the end it doesn't matter if your followers are unused to the new thing you like! As long as you are conveying meaning behind what you create, you'll find your way. Im uh, still learning this. People latch onto concepts more than skill, I've found.

So yea, thats just what I have to say. Sorry for the long, LONG post. I hope this helped!!

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 19

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader    Content: Language, possible errors, 

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 19: Mrs. Lupin

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The rest of Valentine’s Day was spent with Y/N compiling a list in her head:

1. Avoid drinking anything the Marauders — actually, avoiding drinking anything around James to dodge their concoction of face and body-altering potions. When students at lunch and dinner drank from the pumpkin juice supply, more than several people who were already in relationships morphed into those they weren’t dating. Let’s just say that this prank wasn’t as uplifting and fun as the Marauders originally had in mind. Even the Bloody Baron told Peeves to spare them.

2. Make sure Lily didn’t drink anything around the Marauders — or anything around Marlene and Mary (who caught word from Peter of her supposed feelings). They were dying to know who caught her attention and bets were being placed.

3. James just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Emmeline. She could even hear his voice: Whiskers! Did you see how pretty she looks? Woah, I can’t believe she agreed to be my girlfriend? I’m so lucky! She’s beautiful! Ugh — did you see her smile? Emmeline this, Emmeline that — it was even worse than his obsession with Quidditch. But, it was too endearing in a sickening, annoyingly charming way and she was happy that he seemed happy, so Y/N kept her lips sealed.

Remus suggested drowning him in the bottles of love potions littering the castle but Y/N thought differently. James already acted like what a love potion was rumoured to be like; he’d become unstoppable if he even caught a whiff.

4. Shockingly by the end of the day, Y/N’s bag was stuffed with cards and gifts — all filled with confessions. She rarely socialized with anyone but the girls and Marauders, so it came as a surprise.

5. And now found herself stuck in a very uncomfortable situation.

Relaxing in the lounge area by the library, James and Mary were casting spells, Lily and Y/N chatted while Remus aided Marlene, going over course material, however, her face scrunched up as she flicked through his notes.

“What does this mean,” Marlene asked after desperately trying to decipher his writing. She slid it over to him, pointing to a highlighted section. But before Remus could translate, Y/N peeked over.

“Um — Owl to Opera Glasses. This spell emits fleeting wispy white vapour from wand — point at owl — no sound will be produced.”

She sat back in her seat, snapping off a piece of chocolate before handing the rest over to Remus beside her. Everyone looked shocked.

“Erm — what?”

Mary sputtered, “How did you read that? It’s fucking scribble!”

“He’s got doctor writing.”

They waited for her to elaborate.

“My mom’s —” “MUM!” “— writing is horrid. I swear all doctor’s have awful handwriting. I spent so much time reading her medical jornals, scans, charts — to keep me busy. So comparing Remus’ writing to hers, it’s legible.”

None of them seemed to understand besides Lily and Mary. Y/N just dismissed the matter entirely, sliding back the parchment to Marlene as they went back to their quiet conversations.

“So,” Remus leant in, his head craned down to talk to her. “Doctor handwriting — I should flaunt that?”

She chuckled, “Might make you sound smarter, but you don’t need that.”

“You flatter me too much.”

“Humble, aren’t you?”

“I have to bully myself daily. Can’t let it get to my head, not like egomania over there.”

Ah yes, the thrilling saga of bullying James Potter.

But before she could add on, a shadow caught Remus’s eye before he nudged her. His head tilted over to the direction of a wall, littered with portraits and awards with Quidditch trophies. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”

A blond boy, young — was staring at her, blushing madly as his chest puffed out, determination trickled through every step as he neared.

Remus’ smile became impossibly large, dripping in amusement before snapping, gaining the table’s attention.

“Hi,” there was a nervous waver in his voice, but confidence in his stance. He was pale, amplifying the scarlet blush on his cheeks.

Damn, she knew what was about to happen and so did shit-eating grin Lupin.

“Hello… What’s your name.” Right, that was a good place to start. Her eyes wandered to his tie: a Ravenclaw.

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” he announced, going up to flick a strand of hair from his face, flashing her a pearly white smile. “I’m in first year.” In his small hands, he outstretched his arms holding a box of chocolates — identical to the one Remus received a few days ago along with a meticulously crafted letter.

“You’reveryprettysowillyoubemyValentine?”

James, Mary and Marlene let out an involuntary snort which had all of them leaning into one another to support themselves from toppling over. Lily had to cast Silencio over them. They turned their heads away from Gilderoy before barking out silent merriment. Remus was the complete opposite, thankfully, as he remained poised, face void but his lips quivered upwards.

“Um… right... well,” she stalled. Maybe she should get up, take the boy elsewhere to softly let him down. “Thank you, I appreciate it a lot. But er… I can’t accept your feelings. Thank you for telling me, though. I appreciate it.”

“What?! Why!” He demanded. His face turned a deeper shade of pink, now causing a scene.

She made eye contact with Lily, however, James’ hand hammered down on the table, startling them all. His two hands formed pointed tips, mimicking two people kissing as he repeated the motion, pointing to her and Remus. Mary took the opportunity to grab Lily’s wrist, flicking a reversal charm on all of them.

“She’s dating Lupin!” She shouted which caught the attention of a few onlookers. James tossed his head back, knuckles in his mouth and Lily’s brow rose high in a startled grimace.

“For a month now!” Marlene continued, her hand slapping down on her thigh.

Y/N was going to murder them.

She went to open her mouth to say — well, okay, she didn’t know what to say but Remus budded in, lifting his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulled her in awkwardly. She instantly got the hint, bringing a hand and patted his chest stiffly while the group tried not to bellow. Even Lily’s facade was beginning to break, her hand shooting up to cover a growing smile.

There was never a boring day at Hogwarts.

But she was taking too long to answer. This would've been quick, easy, had not everyone else been around and especially if they hadn’t lied about her dating.

“I’m sorry but yes, we’ve been together for a little while now, haven’t we, darling?” said Remus, saving her from the hesitation. Y/N nodded, at least she didn’t need to give a reason now.

Remus’ lying was exceptional. There wasn’t even a flicker in his expressions aside from the involuntary dark blush that ran down his cheeks to his neck. Y/N couldn’t blame him, her face felt like it was on fire.

Gilderoy tried to play it off coolly but his shoulders slumped, looking absolutely dispirited. He meekly nodded, placing the box and letter on the table and sped off.

“Cougar L/N!” Marlene roared once he was out of earshot.

“You lot are ruthless!” She barked at them.

“I did nothing!”

“Lied to a poor boy!” Lily lectured sharply.

“And she went along with it!” “Because you —”

While everyone was now bickering or on the verge of tears, Remus peeled himself off of her and Y/N patted him once more.

“You’re welcome.”

She looked up at him, “Darling? Really?”

His eyes rolled, “Did you want me to call you a troll?”

“Got me there, thank you.”

His face softened at this, shoving her in a teasing way before seizing the small box of chocolates, cracking it open and handed her a piece.

“What?” he smirked, moving to open a book, flipping to his worn-out bookmark. He side-eyed her uncomfortable expression as she looked at the box. He recited her words, “Expensive chocolate is still expensive chocolate.”

“You’re a dick.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

February 17th, 1976

Y/N quickly learned that it was a mistake using the excuse that she and Lupin were dating because now the entire school believed it.

It spread like wildfire. Girls rejected by Remus shot her a hardened gaze, eyes scorned through her robes while other’s who confessed to Y/N avoided her completely. They would all gossip the moment they passed the hallways and she could feel their gaze.

“Lupin beat me to it!”

“— how long have they’ve been —”

“I’ve fancied him for two years! Two years and she suddenly just swoops in?!”

“Honestly, I thought she was with Potter.”

“She’s hot.” “He's fit!”

“— jealous of her —”

“Crikey — don’t they have anything else to talk about?” Remus said, turning away from the hall.

Remus disappeared for the past couple of days, only now hearing the commotion for the first time. He looked fairly pale, eyes red and tired — but not unusual. Y/N shrugged off the rumours and speculations before entering the hall, shouting to him to wait.

Many students stopped their gossiping for a moment to watch her pass before resuming. She marched up to her customary seat, her friends whistling at her.

“Where’s Remus L/N?”

“Mrs. Lupin!”

“Fuck off.”

She shoved snacks into her bag, hoarding enough food for the both of them and managed to grab a giant mug filled with coffee, making her way out of the hall with a few people loitering after her. James forcibly brought Sirius to his feet, Peter leaped over and Lily sprang up from Marlene, cutting her off while looping her arm with Y/N’s.

Mary elected to stay back, engrossed in a chat with Dorcas and Alice before quickly roping Marlene in. Nevertheless, she shouted once she saw the coffee mug, “That’s for Lupin, isn’t it?!”

“Don’t start… it’s just coffee.”

“Black coffee my arse!”

James ran up to her, tugging on her robes lightly, “Does this mean I should swap my Galleons to Lupin?”

Y/N shrugged him off, stomping over to Remus waiting by the door. She handed him the mug, glancing back in hopes of Celeste: no letter from her mother, again. She sighed before hauling the rest of the group to Kettleburn's classroom. This time, empty but always open for students to come and go. Even a sign was plastered on the entrance: Hold a Niffler if feeling down! (BEWARE of theft).

“Sneaking off like this is going to fuel more rumours,” said Lily, settling her things down on the desks beside her.

“Sorry Whiskers — Moony!”

Remus cracked his fingers, a long breathy sigh trickled from him slowly. “We should mitch lessons today — let it cool down for a bit.”

“Mitch?”

“Skip classes —”

“Moony is possibly the worst prefect in Hogwarts History — he deserves a gold star for it,” chuckled Peter.

Sirius grinned and the two made brief eye contact but neither looked away until James’ voice rang out again. It made Y/N's skin go warm.

“Mate’s going for a record.”

Sirius went to scratch the back of his neck, his head turning down to fiddle with his rings out of habit. “Maybe they’ll put him in the next printed copies of

Hogwarts: A History.” 

Remus rolled his eyes, fixing his posture to sit straighter. “Ungrateful gits. All I hear are three wannabe detention attendees. You ought to be thanking me. With what you pull, I could easily give you two years worth of ‘em.”

A collective sigh went around from the boys who seemed to bow their heads in mutual respect. They grouped and drawled, “Thank you, Moonyyy!”

Lily turned to her, “I’m sorry, but you’re not skipping.”

Her voice automatically switched at the mention of class; it went strict and firm and eerily sounded like Professor McGonagall which had Y/N double down.

Once the bell rang, Sirius quickly walked up to her, taking the place of Lily.

“Fine, we’ll keep the Puffskein in my dorm.”

She considered him for a moment. “I’ll visit daily.”

“Jolly.”

He sped up, hooking an arm around James’ shoulders as they headed to Potions. Y/N's eyes followed him, unable to look away and her heart dropped.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

“The Draught of Peace is a potion that often comes up on the Ordinary Wizarding Level. As you know from review, it calms anxiety and high levels of agitation. It’s been used to calm students who are too stressed with NEWT exams.

“And today,” Slughorn says, trying to look cheerful but failing — looking far too stiff and forced, “ We'll attempt to brew it.”

Lily sat up bolt-straight, eager to soak in new information. Instead of sitting with Lily today, she took a seat in between Remus and James, Lily with Snape.

“The instructions are up on the board, if you have any questions, ask away. Be warned though; be too heavy-handed — mix too fast and you’ll end up with a potion that would make the consumer fall into an irreversible sleep.

“You will be graded on your progress once finished.” He flicked his wand, opening all of the student’s textbooks to an ingredients page, unlocked the cupboard and turned back, “You have until the end of the class, begin my pupils!”

“Sluggys lookin’ pretty sluggishly today,” whispered Lily as they met briefly while collecting their ingredients.

Slughorn did look a little down. His face and voice were desolate, missing its happy chiper.

“Whiskers, I have everything already, don’t worry about it!” James beckoned.

The potion, in her opinion, wasn’t as hard as she predicted it to be. She was doing quite well, better than Lily and Remus which gave her a small sense of pride.

“So, Prongs, when are we going to get to meet Emmeline?”

James didn’t look up from his fiddly potion, too engaged but there was a small grin on his face. “We’re trying to take it slow —” “Pfft,” interjected Remus, “James Potter and slow — in a relationship? Doubt it. Did your Veela powers run out?”

“Hey! I like her and I don’t want her to run off or feel pressured.”

“Ah, what a gentleman, isn’t he Lupin?”

“Quite.”

James shook his head, “You shouldn’t be talking. Shouldn’t you lovebirds be on a date yoursel — Merlin! Moony don’t do that!”

Remus flicked his wand before a handful of leftover powdered moonstone fell on top of James’ head, giving him an iridescent appearance.

Y/N ignored them, stirring clockwise, then counterclockwise, simmering the heat down to the perfect level for seven minutes, then added in two drops of syrup of hellebore. A shimmery silver mist stemmed from her cauldron. A satisfied smirk settled it’s way on her face before scanning the class. Nobody else, besides Remus and Snape who’d been adding their finishing touches, was done.

Just as James was about to finish his perfectly brewed potion, a small beam was directed at his cauldron, ruining the entire potion as it sputtered multicoloured sparks. He tried to prod at the flames at the base of the cauldron, trying to cool it down but it was already too late. It soon became a thick, muddy concrete mixture.

“What the fuck? You guys saw that, right?!”

They had indeed seen a spell hit his cauldron. Their heads whipped around in search. With only ten minutes left and James’ grades about to drop, they all panicked slightly. If his marks were to drop below a certain level, James would be in jeopardy of losing his Quidditch title as captain and be forced to step down, focusing more on the OWLs.

Remus spotted them first: “It’s Snape.”

“How do you know?”

He didn’t respond, leaving them to follow his line of vision to look. Snape wore a horrible smirk, going as far as to wink at James. His perfectly brewed potion shimmered in the light before whirling around to talk to Lily.

“Fucking Snivellus,” James muttered tensley.

“Alright, in five minutes, I’ll be coming around to look at your potions! Be ready to present them.” Slughorn announced.

Remus sighed. “Prongs, just take mine — I’ll take yours. My grades are high enough but if yours drop —”

“No Moony,” he stated firmly. “I’m not going to let you go down with me.”

Distracted, Snape blushing like a fool to Lily and the boys fighting over Remus’ endeavour at being noble, Y/N swished her wand, levitating Jame’s cauldron and directed it over to Snape. She bewitched a temporary invisibility charm, switching them, before levitating Snape's back to James. Now, in front of James was a flawlessly brewed Draught of Peace.

“James, take my help —” “I said no you wanker!”

Slughorn was making rounds around the classroom, but Snape beckoned him over to his shared table with Lily, confident as he sent a nasty look to them.

“Evans, looking good! Perfectly brewed — I’ll add an extra point on your mark.” The praise did not go unnoticed as her chest puffed with pride, her head turning and locked eyes with Y/N, a large smile on her face.

Nice! Y/N mouthed, a thumb sticking upwards.

“Now lets — Severus!” exclaimed Slughorn, flashes of surprise shot through him, “What happened? This is so unlike you.”

The Slytherins in the class all looked up — scratch that — everyone in the class snapped their heads towards him; Snape had never once messed up a potion. They watched as Snape’s face fell from his smug smirk as a black stemming, multicoloured, cloud of smoke puffed in the air, making the surrounding students cough.

“Sir — I swear it was fine moments ago, I don’t know what happened! It must’ve —”

Their professor sighed, a very disappointed look crossed his face before shaking his head.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Snape. Accidents happen. Evanesco.”

The contents, including the puff of smoke, vanished, leaving Snape to gape around. Lily touched his shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down and began murmuring into his ear.

But before Slughorn could go to another group, Y/N raised her hand, flagging him down while the rest of the class was still paying attention. “Professor! We would like for you to clear us, please!”

“Whiskers, what are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

“Look at what she did with your cauldron,” Remus mumbled, his eyes darting to her.

Complete surprise and utter awe replaced his face as Slughorn let out an excited squeal. His hands clapped together. “Everyone should take a page from Potter, L/N and Lupin. I’ve never seen such great work for this potion! Amazing you three! Ten points for Gryffindor.”

Their heads whipped towards her, Remus just smiled while James stared wide-eyed.

“You love to underestimate me.”

[writingsbychlo]

upholding traditions | dave hodgman

word count; 19,396

summary; a year later, dave finding himself in need of his christmas party saviour again, and is missing his girlfriend, thinking she won’t make it home for the holidays.

notes; honestly, this switches between his POV and hers a lot just to get the full story across, so just roll with it. click here to check out their new years outfits, I had very particular images in mind.

warnings; underage drinking, smut, semi-public sex

“Oh, Dave, isn’t that just the loveliest little garden?” He could only nod, biting down on the inside of his cheek, hard, to contain the yawn that he wanted to release. On one side was his mother, and on the other side was his ex, her shoulder pressed up to his as the perfume he once thought smelt alluring and sexy now just gave him a headache and made his nose wrinkle was overwhelming, her phone held out in front of the two of them, as she swept through photos of her new home. “You know, Dave, if you had a nice little house like that, you could host some lovely little event. Are you planning to host any, Aubrey?”

He gave her his best smile, knowing how fake it all must seem, and when she finally pulled her arm back and placed her phone away, her body leaving his side, he felt like he could breathe again, no longer sandwiched between the two women. The problem was simple; his mother had joined his neighbourhood book club, as had Aubrey’s mother, and over the year, as the group cycled between various members houses for meetings, his mother had become much more social and friendly. Aubrey had transferred home for college, after Ronnie and his piss-poor band had landed a series of songs to be made for cat-food commercials that he considered his ‘big break’.

Slapping an engagement ring on the pushy blonde’s finger and deciding the two of them would move in, Dave had come home from college, exhausted and ready to crash, to find his mother had befriended his ex, and everything since that day only one week ago had been a steady de-escalation in his run down to Christmas.

After the raging success that last year’s set of Christmas parties had been, and the formation of the neighbourhood book club - who seemed to have now self-elected themselves as the community event organisers - he once again found himself standing in an itchy festive jumper on Christmas Eve, a glass of punch in his hand as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that if his mother and his ex-girlfriend got any friendlier, she might actually start being invited to family gatherings and thanksgivings.

With her ‘big news’, in the form of an engagement and a small house in her hometown as she decided she was never going to break free, apparently, Dave found himself with a whole new set of problems. He was being badgered by everyone he knew about when he was going to settle down, when he was going to find himself a nice girl, when was it going to be his turn to get a house or start making roots, and what his direction was?

The worst of it all? You weren’t here to save him this time.

Three weeks before Christmas, and you’d broken the news to him over your weekly video chat date. You weren’t making it home for Christmas this year, your junior college year workload had all become too much and you were staying behind over your break to finish it all up. You’d been vague, not many details and so he didn’t have much to talk about when the older ladies of the neighbourhood asked him where you were, meaning they were all fixing him with disapproving stares and offering to set him up with their granddaughters or nieces.

Glancing around the room, he longed to catch sight of you, your sweet smile, enough to light up a room, but he already knew he wouldn't find you. The last time he had seen you in person had been the summer, when he’d flown all the way to your university campus as a surprise, spending the entire last week of summer with you, and flying back for his first day there, falling asleep in his first lecture of second year, and yet he hadn't regretted a moment of it. Going to college at the opposite end of the country to your girlfriend was hard, more so when your schedules never aligned and workloads began to pile on, but he struggled not getting to see you for so long.

Swallowing thickly, Dave gave up on all decorum and falseness of polite wishes, not missing the side-eye his mother gave him as he slumped out of the conversation, not having a single fuck to give about the names of paint samples Aubrey had been trying on the walls, but instead dipping down to sit in the chair closest to himself. The night was pushing on, and he had no doubt that the dinner would be being served soon, and he placed his chin onto his hand, elbow balanced on the tabletop as he propped up his head and tried to stay awake.

“Dave, you’re being rude!”

He flinched as his mother pinched at his shoulder, and he swatted her away, glaring up at her as he scowled at him, and Aubrey chuckled a little, a sound that grated his nerves when he was already wearing so thin on tolerance for any kind of festivities right now. “Girl talk, am I right?”

“Sure, Aubrey.”

“I think there’s something else bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?” His mother cooed a little, patting her shoulder, before seeming to find someone else to talk to, wandering away across the room and starting up another conversation, leaving him alone with the woman, and she sipped at the drink in her hands as she stared at him. “Is it because you’re here alone?”

Narrowing his eyes on her, he huffed, and she shrugged slightly.

“It’s okay to be alone, Dave.”

“I’m not alone.” His words were growled out a little bit, and she only seemed to fix him with an even more pitying look, shaking her head slightly, grown-out bangs falling into her face from the slicked-back style she’d put them in, and she tucked them away, the smile on her face now unobscured, and he couldn't quite decipher whether it was condescending or just overly concerned. “I’m not. My girlfriend just couldn't make it for Christmas this year.”

“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?”

He deadpanned, straightening up a little bit to look at her more clearly, and she fixed him with an innocent look. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” She took another sip of her drink, clearly not done with her statement, before her shoulders were slumping as she waved her hand, trying to brush it off. “Sometimes it can just be a bad sign, y’know? When one person in a relationship starts to give up, and the other person starts having to carry all the weight. It never works out.”

“Oh, you mean like how it ended up with us?”

“That’s not fair.” She mumbled, at least having the dignity to look a little offended and guilty. “I was young, I was all over the place with my emotions. I didn’t know what kind of baggage I had then. I thought you were right for me, but it didn’t work out. I’m just saying, anybody who can’t make time for you at Christmas might not be worth it. C’mon, Dave, it’s the holidays. What else could she be doing?”

He gaped a little, not quite sure how to reply, a prickle of doubt racing through his veins as he thought about her words, a feeling he knew was inappropriate because he trusted you implicitly and knew you’d never lie to him, and he was certain that the flame was burning strong still, but now she’d planted that seed of anxiety, and it was growing rapidly.

“She should be here. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, after all.”

His lips flicked up at the edges, a smile mirrored on her face as she finally cracked through his shell, and he knew she wasn’t all that bad, she just had no filter and ofter was a little too crass for her own good, but Aubrey wasn’t a terrible person, he just didn’t like her all that much. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he patted himself down for it, lifting it to his face, and feeling the entirety of his body perk up as your name flashed access the screen with a new unread message.

A simple text, asking what he was up to, and Aubrey chuckled as she realised it must have been you, but he was barely even in the room anymore, mentally he was in a bubble with you, now. Lifting his phone up to take a picture of the event before him, his eyes swept across everyone in the shot, just once, before he was pausing, and looking again. Lifting down the device, he stared out at the crowds with an uninterrupted gaze, checking that what he was wasn’t just a red-clad illusion on his phone screen.

No, he was right.

There you were, hands still tucked inside the pockets of your coat, scarf around your neck, and you waved at him, phone in your hand still open to the texts on the screen, and he shot up in his chair as he stared at you, jaw hanging open and a disbelieving look on his face. Turning off your phone and tucking it back into your pocket, you unwrapped your scarf from around your neck, hanging it up on the overly crowded coat racks, and turning away from him as you watched your boyfriend get up from the table to shoulder through the crowds towards you.

Slipping your coat down your arms and hanging that up, you shook your hair free of the windblown positions that it had been blown into, turning back to sweep your eyes over the hoards of people. You barely had a chance, before hands were finding your heels, pulling you forwards until you were sharing space with the man, breath shared, a shaky sigh released from him, before the gap was closed.

His mouth slanted across yours, warm and wet and eager, lips moving softly as he tries to tempt you to kiss him back, and you pressed back just as happily. Your hands sat on his sides, feeling him shake a little under your touch as you did, trembling at the connection as you finally saw each other again for the first time since the middle of the year, and he barely pulled back for breath, before he was kissing you deeply once again.

His fingertips were digging into the edge of your jaw, falling way lower and lower, until one was resting gently on your neck your pulse thrumming under his hand, as the other smoothed along your arm, dipping under to sit low enough to reach your waist. Giggling a little against his mouth as his fingertips tickled along your sides, he whined at the break in your exchanges, leaning in to press a series of shortened kisses to your lips until you were resting back from him, far enough for you to crack your eyes open and really take him in.

“Hi, Davie.”

“Really? ‘Hi, Davie.’ That’s all you have to say?” He repeated you, brows shooting up but a playful smile finding his lips as he pinched at your side enough to tickle you, a quiet yelp on your lips as you jerked, fixing him with a mock-glare that scarcely lasted longer than a second, before your arms were coming up to loop around his neck, allowing him to pull you in close again. “You have some explaining to do, ma’am.”

“Couldn’t leave you alone on Christmas, could I?” He smiled, bumping the tip of his nose with your own, and your heart raced in his chest as you found yourself wrapped up in him once again, the feeling being sorely missed. Running your fingers through his hair gently, scratching at the shorter hairs at the base of his neck, he let out a familiar little rumble of complete contentment as you did. “I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t know until about a week ago, but I realised that if I pulled some all-nighters and grabbed a last-minute plane ticket, I could be here to see you.”

One of his hands rubbed along yours lightly, sealing around your wrist to bring your hand around close enough for him to press a kiss to your palm, before letting it fall back to his shoulder. “When do you stay until?”

“Right through to the New Year, baby.” His face lit up, a smile that still managed to make butterflies raise up in waves within you, despite a year having passed in your relationship now. “I cleared my schedule for you. You’re going to be getting a whole lot of me real soon.”

“I should hope so.” He whispered, before pulling you back in, puckering his lips to tell you what he wanted, and letting you be the one to close the gap this time. It was softer, and calmer, and much more loving. The first kiss; needy and frantic and simply a reassurance that you were there and not a figment of his imagination had slipped away, and was replaced within the both of you as something that was much more about passion and comfort.

It hurt you, to see so little of him, to know that he missed you just as much as you missed him, every time you had to cancel a date, or fell asleep too soon in differing timezones, or staggered conversations that took the whole day to have via texts, all becoming irrelevant as you found one another again.

His tongue teased along your lower lip, prodding slowly, and you grinned, feeling his own lips curve up against yours in response, but you only made him wait a moment, before you were parting them and allowing him access to lick into your mouth. Beat shared, noses bumping together as mouths slid together and connected with deep and loving exchanges, head twisting to the side as you tried to push yourself up even further into him.

His hands slipped a little lower, the both of you seeming to forget the world around you for a moment as your front pressed to his, hearts beating together in unison and thudding against one another’s chests. For a moment, it was a space in which only the two of you existed, nobody else mattering, before the tranquillity was shattered.

“(Y/N)!”

A loud squealing, high-pitched, drawn-out and overexcited. A voice he knew well and Dave pulled away with a startled shock, eyes going wide and cheeks flushing red in a way that was mirrored to your own as embarrassment flushed your system, in time to find sights on the younger girl in the glittery dress dashing towards you. You dropped down to take a knee just in time, before you were almost being knocked over, her arms wrapping around your neck and her face pressing into your neck as she all but screamed happily into your ears.

Standing back up with the little girl in your arms, her legs found a place either side of your body, sitting on your hip as she held on tightly, and you turned to face her older brother, an adoring look you recognised well was flashing on his features. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Stella! We can have so much fun now that I’m back, though!”

“I got new toys!” She was still shouting, making Dave wince a little beside you, and you were sure your eardrum was ringing, but her apology as your boyfriend chastised her for her volume was enough to make your heart melt. “Can I tell you about them?”

“Why don’t you tell me over dinner? I’m a bit of a surprise to everyone, so I think I’ll be sitting at your table again.”

“Well, that seems fitting,” Dave mumbled, grinning at you when you rolled your eyes at him, and yet you still found yourself leaning into him when his hand found your lower back, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and scoffing at the dramatic whining and groaning Stella let out at the simple affections. “It’ll be just like last year.”

“I am a sucker for tradition.” You joked, his eyes glinting slightly, and before either of you could say anything else, attention was being called by the tap of a microphone on stage, announcing to you all that it was time to take your seats. Letting Stella back down to the ground, she was bolting away with the intention of leading the way from the very second her toes hit the floor, and Dave was soon after catching your hand with his, squeezing tightly.

He let you lead the way, pulling him along slowly, and his mum gasped loudly as he approached the table behind you, a beam taking over your face at the excitement that the older woman displayed. She was over to you both in a flash, arms held wide before they were wrapping around you and pulling you into her embrace, your hand shaking away from Dave’s so that you could hold her back just as tightly.

You giggled, your eyes meeting his for a second as his mother squeezed you tightly, rocking you from side to side, before she was finally letting you go. She had released you, just long enough to pinch at one of your cheeks lightly, the other arm sitting on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Your mother said you couldn’t make it! We weren’t expecting you, darling. It is lovely to see you, though!”

“Well, I came back as a surprise, she had no idea until she got a call to pick me up from the airport this morning.” His mother’s face cracked out in a smile as she laughed with you, and you felt his fingers inching along your arm, smoothing over your palm before weaving with your own once again, lacing together, and you wrapped your own back in comfort and security to assure him.

“It’s a good thing you did, too! Dave has been moping about all week since finding out you couldn’t make it.” You grinned, turning to look at your boyfriend as his cheeks flared up with red, swallowing thickly and glaring at his mother.

“Mom!”

“What? It’s true, and you know it! You’ve been moody and sulking, pouting all around the house.” He only flushed further, and you leaned in, muffling your laughter by pressing your face into his shoulder, and feeling him sag a little underneath you, giving in, stomping his foot like a child as he whined.

“Mom, stop it!”

“I think it’s cute.” You finally managed to contain your giggles, wrapping your spare arm around his waist, his other hand coming up to rest on your arm and he huffed out as he gave up on the argument, no longer fighting the truth about it all. He had been moody and grouchy, not excited to see in the new year alone, but now you were here with him, and his whole world was lighting up once again. “I missed you, too.”

“You two are just the sweetest.” Your eyes widened, almost having forgotten that his mother was there, and he chuckled down at you, smirking a little now that you were just as embarrassed as he was. “Do you want us to shuffle all the chairs up? We can drag another seat over, I’m sure we could make it work.”

“Thanks, Mrs Hodgman, but that’s okay. I already promised Stella that I’d sit with her this year again, and I never break my promises.”

She only chucked, nodding her head, before you were leaning up to press a kiss to Dave’s cheek, grinning to yourself at the warmth of his skin as he flushed with shyness once again. “Okay, my dear, I’ll go and have a word with the kitchen and see if we can’t rustle up an extra plate for you.”

She walked past you both, wobbling a little on tall heels as her wine raced through her systems, and your boyfriend shook his head as he watched his mother go. He was tugging on your arm, and you looked up at him, following his footsteps over to the kitchen, and Stella was waiting patiently, her hands pressed down into two seats on either side of her own body, preserving them both as other kids began to fill in around the table, denying them the chairs each time, a toothy grin with a missing tooth flashing up as you both arrived.

“Scoot, Stell.” Dave tapped at the back of the left end chair as you took the right, and her head snapped up to him, chocolate brown curls the same shade as her older brother’s bouncing as she did.

“No!”

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He looked utterly shocked, crushing down to her height, and she shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head at him.

“I want to sit in the middle! She’s my friend, too!” The younger girl insisted, and you couldn't hide your amusement as Dave gaped, eyes flickering up to you for support, before narrowing playfully when he realised he didn’t have it.

“Yeah, Dave. Stella’s my friend, too.”

He growled a little, the action more directed at you, a heatless warning, and his hand ruffled in his sister’s hair as he stood up, begrudgingly taking the other seat. He shuffled closer, until the edge of his chair was pressed up against hers, and his hand was reaching out to rest along the back of your chair, playing lightly with the strands of hair that he could reach, while your attention was turned to his sister. She was a whole year older, but just as adorable, and was already beginning to tell you all about her experience so far in second grade.

Her plate was placed down in front of her, and she paid no mind to it, the other children around the table receiving third as well, but she was far more focused on telling you all about the other kids that she’d met. You took charge, cutting up her food for you as you began to add into her stories, telling her all about your own experience in second grade.

“Y’know, Stell, I met your brother when I was in second grade.”

Her jaw dropped, turning to look back at Dave, who only nodded his head in confirmation, but seeming a little strained as he tried to remember that far back. “Really?”

“Really! He had just moved here, and you weren’t even born yet.” You poked at her sides, tickling her a little, and she broke out in a fit of childlike giggles, squirming slightly, pushing at your hands as she did. “He had two front teeth missing, and a buzzcut.”

Dave groaned behind the little girl, seeming to be patching it together now, a wicked glint on your face as you thought about even more details of the story. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands having been growing out over college, more than the short length that they had been when you’d reconnected with him last year, the strands sticking up a little over his head, messy and untamed, only making it worse the more he messed with it.

“He was in a superhero phase, and he came in wearing a different costume every day of the week.”

He let out a loud groan, but there was a smile hidden behind it, and you finished chopping up her food for her, placing the knife and fork down on the edges and pushing it back over to her, little hand picking up the shorter set of cutlery. The chair your boyfriend was sitting in scraped over the floor as he pushed away from the table, beginning to stand up and leaning over to press a kiss to his sister’s head as he passed her by, before coming to a stop before you.

The adult dishes were beginning to be bought out now that the kids all had their own, and he tipped his head in the direction of the bar, making you realise that neither of you had a drink. You’d been so caught up in the whirlwind excitement of surprising your boyfriend with your return that you’d completely neglected the scratching dryness in your throat, or the rumble in your stomach, lighting up a little bit at the thought.

You nodded your head, tipping your head into his hand when it came to rest over your cheek, leaning down enough to brush his lips against your own. It was barely a kiss, before a little hand was slamming down on the table beside you both, making you jump. “Gross!”

You couldn't help the laugh that you let out, head snapping back down to look at Stella as she glared at you both, your cheeks aching from the grin you held. “You don’t like kisses, Stell?”

“No!”

“Not even if I gave you some little kisses?” You leaned over, scoping her up and into your lap so that you could kiss the crown of her head, holding her to you tightly as you peppered the side of her face with little affections, her face growing red as she laughed and wriggled in your arms, barely an effort to escape at all as she cracked up. Just when she thought she’d made it and you let her go Dave caught her on the other side, pressing a kiss to his sister’s cheek, grinning wickedly as he walked away, and you watched her rub aggressively at both of her cheeks as she tried to wipe them clean.

When she deemed the task finished, she set off on her eating, pointedly moving across a seat to get away from you, dragging her plate over to the chair Dave had once sat in, sticking her tongue out at you as she went, and you only beamed, before she was diving into conversation with the other children.

A waiter leaned over, placing two larger plates down, one for you and one for your boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he glanced around the table, before looking to you, and you shrugged, knowing how amusing it was that for now the second year in a row, you were sitting at the kid’s table, despite being in your second year of college, and they walked away with a chuckle.

Moments later, Dave was filling the chair once again, placing a glass down in front of you and raising his brows in silent question of approval as he did. A bubbling gin and tonic, a bottle of beer for him, and you lifted it up, taking a sniff of the contents inside, before taking a testing sip. A concoction of fruity flavours exploded within your mouth, a delicious mix, nodding your approval to him, and he grinned around the neck of his beer as he took a swig himself.

His gaze lingered on you, remaining while you ate, beginning your food, only ever leaving you for a few moments as he ate himself, or answered a question for his sister or one of the other kids, looking away momentarily to chop food or find his drink. It wasn’t an uncomfortable stare, and each time you caught his eyes throughout your conversation and the meal, you felt nothing but utterly loved and cherished.

So, in the pause between your dinner and your dessert, you turned to him, shifting in your seat enough to tangle your feet with his under the table, and his smile seemed to brighten even further.

“Are you trying to burn the image of me into your head, or something?”

“What do you mean?” He moved a little himself, facing you more, one hand smoothing over the tablecloth to find your hand, lacing your fingers together. You waited, and you could tell that he knew exactly what you meant, before shrugging a little, and finally tearing his eyes from you to look around the room. “I hate that we’re always so far from each other, and that this is the first time I’ve seen you in months because college got so busy. I love you, and I’m happy with how we’re doing, but it just..”

“Sucks?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, squeezing your hand back when you squeezed his first, and he watched as people came and went, your attention turning to the mingling folks around you too, and yet you were still entirely wrapped up in one another. “I’m patient, and I’m happy to wait, but sometimes I just feel like we’re being left behind. I mean, my mom and all the neighbours keep going on about the future. They’re all bugging me about when I’m going to move out, start growing up. Simon and Big-C have their own place, Jane just got married, even Aubrey is engaged and moving in with Ronnie.”

He was talking himself breathless, and despite the slightly angry tone to his voice, you knew how to read him, being able to tell that it was more stress than it was frustration, and you placed a hand over his cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin gently to soothe him. Placing his hand over your own, and holding it there.

“Everybody just keeps acting like I have no plans, and that my life isn’t going anywhere, but when your future is half-way across the country for fifty percent of the year, it makes it harder to know where you’re going and what to do.”

His words made your heart flutter, and you choked back the cooing that you wanted to make, pulling him in closer to press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

It was chaste, and delicate, and you sighed out happily against his mouth as the hand closed over your own simply tightened, lips melding in slow patterns that had your heart beating out of your chest, exploding with emotions, finally being with the man you loved once again. Dragging your hand from under his, you pushed it further around into his hair, nails scratching at his scalp, a happy sound making itself known from the back of his throat, a rumble in his chest as he tipped his head further into your hold, and you let out a breath giggle as your lips broke apart, finding him relaxing more and more into your touch with each little scrape, knowing just how to comfort him after all this time.

“Don’t worry, Dave.” He only hummed, eyes fluttering shut as a content look washed over his features, head hanging back, now longer only supported by your hand to hold it up, and his body was sagging into the chair, like the actions you were taking had been a reset button for his entire body, stress clearing away. “You’re my future too. We will have plans, when we’re ready, we don’t have to rush for anyone. It’s me and you, and we can take out time.”

“Me and you?” He repeated, words a little slurred, and he jumped at the shock of a plate clanging down, the waitress apologising as the spoon clicked on the edge of the dish, before pudding a dessert down before you as well, and he forced himself to sit back up, to crack his eyes open and let your hand slip away to take your spoon. “You promise that?”

“Of course, I do. I love you.”

He nodded his head, pecking the tip of your nose as he shook himself off slightly to try and bring some life back to his body, and pulling your chair up and under the table properly.”I love you, too.”

“Good, because that tiramisu looks really good, so I’m kinda’ hoping you’ll share.”

He grinned, eyes flicking over the dish you had yourself, considering it all, before nodding his head. “Okay, but only because your pie looks good too, so we’re splitting them both.”

“Deal.”

Poking your spoon into the dish, you dragged it towards you a little, a disbelieving scoff on his lips as he caught his spoon against the other side, stopping you from taking it any further, and stabbing the cutlery into it hard enough to chime against the counter, before taking a large mouthful of it and bringing it up to eat.

You cringed through a laugh as he chewed loudly and unattractively, his spoon battling yours each time you tried to take a bite of the dessert. “Dave!”

“Hey, I said you could have some, but you have to earn it!”

“That’s how you want to play this?” He nodded, taking another bite of his, and you took the chance, dragging your spoon into it and pulling off a piece of the creamy treat, and he was quick to use his own to scrape it back into the dish. “That's no fair!”

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

He picked up the dropped chunk, watching as you pouted, eating it with a wide smile, and half of his tiramisu was already gone, and you gave a dramatic sigh. Instead, you pouted, deciding that if he wanted to play dirty then you would too, and you twisted away from him to face your own sweet, dragging a piece of the apple pie away from the pain crust, and lifting it up to your mouth.

He chuckled beside you, more than amused with his own antics, and you ignored him, letting out a little huff, and not responding to him when he cooed a little, and you tried some more of your pie, staring down into the dish as you pretended to be upset. “Oh, c’mon, baby. I’m only messing around with you. Here, you can have some now.”

He pushed the bowl closer to you, and you looked up at him again, pretending to study him for a moment, and he lifted up his spoon, holding it out to you with a large piece of tiramisu, the Italian delicacy calling out to you. Just as you leaned in to take it, he swerved it around, closing the mouthful between his one lips, and laughing around it as your jaw dropped in shock.

“I won’t fall for your fake sadness, I know when you’re really mad. Good try, though.”

You growled a little, biting at the inside of your cheek to contain your smile, before raising a brow, and dropping your act to deadpan at him. “Fine. War is war, don’t blame me when you regret it.”

“Sounds like a threat?”

“It is.”

It was just the two of you at the table now, the kids long since having finished their ice creams, sticky dishes and spoons left littered around the table as they’d all run off to play, and it was just the two of you left, the low lighting in the corner of the room, a smirk spread over your features as an idea came to mind.

Your hand landed on his thigh, leaning over to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, feeling him shake a little under your hold as he laughed, bringing up the hand that was resting on the back of your chair to weave into your hair instead. His head twisted, lips brushing your ears, and hot breath washing over your neck as he curled back around you.

“Squeezing my thigh and kissing my jaw won’t work, I’m not the same shy kid I was when you first started using that trick.”

You only hummed, nipping a little at his earlobe, before lifting one leg to rest right over the top of one of his own, the blockade of your leg meaning you had enough space to slide your hand up higher. His breathing did hitch then, as your fingers pressed lightly to the crotch of his jeans, and you settled your head onto his shoulder. To anyone who may look over, it was simply a couple cuddling in the corner, young adults who’d missed each other enough to put aside the general rules of PDA for one night, and it would be okay.

Instead, you licked lightly at the base of his neck, a spot you knew made him weak, and your suspicions were confirmed when he trembled under your touch. “Who’s not playing fair now, huh?”

“It was you who made it a war, Dave.” He dropped his spoon, a loud clanging, and he was choking back a moan as you rubbed your palm down against his cock, feeling him twitch under your touch as he did, even through the layers of material. His hand came down, snatching at your wrist, and cursing under his breath as your actions refused to cease, barely suppressing a moan as he began to grow under your hand.

“Fucking hell, you’re evil.” He whispered, and you nipped lightly at that same spot again, hearing him whimper as you did, hips bucking up into your hand, fingers gripping your wrist even tighter as he tried to push you away, yet never trying to hurt you. “I give up, I give up. Fuck, if I cum in my pants at a Christmas party, you’re never driving my car again.”

“You surrender?”

Squeezing the bulge in his pants, you lifted your head, his eyes rolling back in his head as he bit down on his lower lip, turning his face towards yours and pressing your foreheads together to hide the expression on his face. “I surrender. Dessert is all yours.”

“That’s all you had to say.”

He wheezed out a relieved breath as you finally took your hand away, panting slightly as he came down, having been halfway to creaming himself at the age of twenty like some kind of horny freshman, and he looked mildly irritated when he finally managed to pull himself together. “That was low.”

You only grinned, taking his spoon and enjoying the final bite of his tiramisu, watching as his thumb came up to wipe the powdery dust it had been sprinkled with from the edge of your mouth, but a frown was still sitting on his features. “Hey, you’re the one who wouldn’t share. Besides, it wasn’t so low back in May when you stuck your hand up my skirt while we were playing pool at the bar, huh?”

His eyes flashed over for a second, remembering the moment clearly. He’d been losing, the two of you having snuck into one of the bars on campus and gotten a little tipsy, and after boasting just how good he was at the game, to be losing to you in his hazy state, and as you’d leaned over the table, he’d stood behind you, fingers pinching your clit roughly through your panties and making you fall forwards onto the table, a cry on your lips as you lost the game. It had led to some pretty amazing sex when you’d made it back to his flat, though.

“Besides, I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.” He mumbled, watching you switch between dishes once his was empty, his jaw hanging open as he waited for you to serve him up a piece of the apple pie. His hand came down to rest on your thigh, holding you close to him as the two of you happily shared out the foods, before falling into comfortable silence.

It was whispers about anything and everything you could think of, nothing too deep, simply making passing comments about what you’d been up to, small talk that would usually come along via your video call dates. His sister had come and gone, crawling up into your lap to sit with you for a while, more than happy to fill the silence as you asked her about what she and the other kids were up to, before she was running away again to chat with her friends.

The conversation went on, chatter about college, updates on all the extra work you’d been doing that had prevented either of you from being able to make any trips in the last few months, straining the long-distance relationship that you were already sharing. First-year had breezed by, being easy enough that since last Christmas, the two of you had made plenty of time to visit one another, meeting up halfway between or making the full trip for the weekend, but second-year had come down hard, and had been kicking your asses.

You moved yourself, his arm settling behind your chair so that your head could fall to his shoulder, one arm slung over his waist, and tiredness began to creep in. You could suppress it for a while at first, holding in your yawns, and being able to follow the stories he was spinning for you, updating you on everything that his friends - both college and at home - had been up to, soft laughs on your lips with each adventurous tale he shared.

Eventually, though, he had caught on, going quiet as he let you fall into a half daze, the hand behind your body moving to stroke over your shoulder, comforting and warm as he just held you there.

“You falling asleep on me, sweetheart?”

“No, no. I’m totally awake. I’m here to spend time with you.” Your words were a little mumbled from sleep.

“Yeah, sure you are.” He teased, jousting you on his shoulder, and you groaned, but sat up, shaking your head to clear it before blinking your eyes into the lights again, trying to readjust.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little tired.” He only nodded his head, watching as you stood up on shaky legs, and following behind you. “My parents are going to be here all night. I can just tell.” You glanced over at them, finding them sitting around one of the tables, chatting away happily with no signs of stopping any time soon, and Dave slipped an arm around you, directing you over to where his mother was and showing you that he was in the exact same boat. “Come get my coat with me?”

He nodded, following after you, and lifting it down to help you pull it up your arms, booking yourself a cab as he tied your scarf around your neck for you, making sure you were nice and cosy.

Another yawn was pulling at your lips, and the second it was finished, he was offering you a soft kiss, one that you barely had the energy to return as you began to slip closer to just passing out in your exhaustion. Time zones were a real bitch, you were getting the short end of the stick with jetlag, but it was all worth it.

“You know, I could come with you? We could stay at my place, tonight?”

“I should probably stay in my own bed for the first night back, don’t you think?”

The cold was enough to make you gasp loudly as you stepped into the night air, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than you had a moment ago as your breath clouded in the air, making you shiver, sticking your hands into your coat pockets as you moved down to the curb to wait for your taxi to arrive. Seeing headlights coming around the end of the road, you could barely make it out, but suspected it to be your vehicle, and you rocked up onto the tips of your toes to steal another kiss from him, his lips working against your own just as eagerly. Licking along his lower lip, he parted them for you with a soft moan, tongues tangling together, his hands finding your waist and pulling your body flush up to his own, keeping you close.

It was a kiss that was long overdue, finally getting a real moment alone together, nobody around, no crowds, just the two of you for the first time in months, and you were looking forwards to much more time with him like this over the holidays, and beyond it. One of the hands on your waist was now sliding up, tangling into your hair as his head tipped to the side, stealing deeper access to your mouth, before pulling away for breath only a moment later.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at my place?”

“Tempting. Very tempting.” You mumbled, letting him lean in for further kisses as he laughed softly, the innuendo in his words not being missed but slipping way as irrelevant, and the squealing of tires pulling up only a few metres away told you that your assumptions had been correct, your taxi waiting patiently, phone buzzing in your pocket to confirm it.

“I could make you breakfast if you did.”

“How about you take me out for breakfast on Boxing Day morning? I’ll finish my unpacking and we’ll go for an early morning date.” He sighed, nodding his head and walking over to the car with you, reaching down to open the door.

“Fine, Boxing Day breakfast date it is. But only if you promise that it’s a lunch date and dinner date, too. I want you for the whole day.” He pulled it open, letting you step down from the sidewalk and settle into the seat, closing it and leaning against the open window as you smiled up at him.

“All-day date, you got it.”

“Call me tomorrow?” He questioned, not wanting to hold you up much longer as the driver waited, politely turning up the radio a little as the glass stayed closed, giving you both privacy.

“Of course, I have to wish my man a Happy Christmas, right?”

“It’s much happier now you’re home.” He leaned in, pecking your lips one final time, before stepping away from the car, and sticking his hands into his pockets, the car revving to life a little. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You nodded, blowing him a kiss and rolling the window back up, the car setting off on its journey.

This wasn’t like last year, where Dave had been waiting in unknowing anxiety as to whether he was even going to see you again. This year, he was filled with confidence, enjoying the part around himself instead of sulking in a corner, because this year, he was happy. You’d texted him a half-hour ago to tell him you were almost ready, and that you’d be on your way over soon, and he was anticipating the arrival of his girlfriend with joy.

He’d allowed his mother to introduce him to as many people as she wanted to, mingling and socialising as she willed him to, until finally, he’d been left along in peace to get a drink. He was now standing still staring down at his phone as he lurked near the dining table, the chairs dragged away into the living room and the wood pushed up to the wall, laid out with food and snacks, and just waiting for you.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you felt him jump, before your hands were connecting over his middle and he was dropping a hand down to cover yours. His other shifted around between you, tucking his phone into his pocket, before turning in your arms to take you in. Before he did, he leaned down, pressing a careful kiss to your lips as not to smudge the makeup you had done, a fresh layer of lipstick sitting on pouted lips, and he hummed happily as you squeezed yourself in a little closer to him.

“Missed you.”

His words were mumbled against your lips, and you grinned, trying to kiss him through it and whining when he pulled back, but shaking his head, feeling mischief coarse through your veins. “You saw me yesterday. And the day before that, and before that, pretty much all week. Aren’t you sick of me yet?”

“I’m never going to get sick of you, baby.” His hands found your cheeks, tipping you back a little bit as your smiles were pressed together, ruining what would have been a romantic kiss, but you couldn’t contain your joy, cheeks aching as you tried to straighten it. “You look pretty.”

His hands slipped down to find yours, holding you out before him and dropping one, lifting the other to twirl you around in the golden wrap dress that you were wearing, a low whistle on his lips, and he tugged a little at the belt around your waist, raising his brows as the material gaped open a little with your movements, exposing your thigh to him as the hem of the dress at around the middle of your calves.

“This is new.”

“I bought something special for the night, I wanted to feel good.” He grinned, lifting your hand up to sit on his shoulder, before placing both of his own on your waist, nibbling on his lip as he looked at you. “You scrub up pretty damn good yourself, Davie. All black suit, looking hot.”

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders and pulling you back in for another kiss, groaning as the song in the room changed. Your lips were just brushing his, before his mother was darting straight through the room, calling his name loudly, and he sighed, pulling back from you to look up and find his mother, who was trying to shoulder her way through the crowds towards him.

“This is your song, Dave!”

“It’s not my song, this is just a song you play every year and make me dance to because I danced to it once in a middle school play.” His mother took no notice, rolling her eyes and grabbing onto his arm, trying to drag him away. He gripped onto your hand, forcing you to follow him along, until you could see Stella, tearing up the dance floor with the sugar rush she was currently holding, an upbeat song playing over the speakers and vibrating through the floors.

The part was reaching its full mass, the place absolutely teeming with people, far more than should be able to fit into a house like this, even if the gardens were open too, despite the cold weather, and yet there was still a spot cleared on the dance floor for him. His mother had found a dance partner, Stella was dancing with two of her friends in a crazy trio, and Dave was holding his hand out to you, wiggling his brows as the song progressed on. He didn’t give you a chance to mull it over, taking your hand and pulling you into him, your chest crashing into his, before he was positioning you to be able to dance.

“This is the worst song in the world.” You teased, bodies around you moving just as fervently, and he nodded his head, before the lyrics were belting out of him, shouted at the top of his lungs, and you were giggling as he twirled you around. “I am not dancing to this.”

“You have to!” He insisted, still trying to get you to move with him, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other connected with your own, holding it up in a waltz style pose, despite the fact that you’d never be able to waltz to this kind of pop.

“Says who?” Your laughter broke out again as he dipped you backwards, spinning you around, your bodies bouncing a little as you moved to the beat, and you couldn't deny that it was catchy, your feet beginning to move along with his, and the smile on his face only widened as you did.

“Says the laws of being my girlfriend. You have to dance with me, always, even if you think I’m embarrassing you.”

He let out a loud cheer, just to draw attention to you both again, but the smile on his face made it worth it all as you danced with him again. Your inhibitions were slipping away, heart beating rapidly in your chest and laughs drowned over the sounds of the music as you twirled around the room, almost bumping into other people on the dance floor as they joined in. The heat was building, your cheeks flushing as his skin shone with a thin layer of sweat, the song seeming to go on forever, and yet, you couldn't find it within yourself to care, because the moment felt perfect.

When the music finally ceased, you slumped against him, letting him catch you as the two of you panted, a few stray hairs sticking to your forehead for the exertion of the activity, and he laughed breathlessly, holding you up as the funky hip hop tunes continued on, the more tame songs would come along later in the night when only the adults were left, the kids still making the most of the evening.

Looping your arms around his neck, he smirked, hands finding your waist, as the two of you rocked slowly to the upbeat song that was playing, a smile finding your lips when his forehead came down to rest against your own. “So, later on, will you save me a real dance? When the slow songs are playing?”

“Who says I slow dance?”

“The laws of being my boyfriend.” He chuckled at your use of his words against him, before he was dipping down to press a kiss to your lips, sighs sounding from both of you at the chaste connection. “You’ll have to get used to slow dancing with me, Davie. As you said, all our friends are starting to grow up, getting engaged and throwing parties, and I’m going to want to slow dance.”

He nodded his head, spinning you out form his body and twirling you around, before he was bringing you back into his body, a smirk on his lips and mischief flashing across his eyes. “Who says you’re my date?”

“Oh, you got someone else?” You took the bait, gasping falsely as he grinned wider, a cocky look on his face as he held you once again, swaying you in his arms before dipping you backwards, lifting your thigh onto his hip for only moment, and when he pulled you back up, you were even closer than before.

“You know you’re my one and only, baby.”

You leaned up, mouths brushing together again. “Mhm, I better be.”

He closed the gap, teeth scraping over your lower lip at a more passionate connection, sucking on your lower lip slightly, enough to make you moan out a little under your breath,  and his hands tightened on your body. The dancing you were enjoying had become more like swaying, no longer focused on the movements of your feet or the tune of the music, but just on one another.

Your hand came up to tangle in his hair, nails scraping over his scalp lightly as his fingertips dug into your waist, all but burning through the material of your dress, making you feel like flames were consuming you from the inside out. You’d never felt this way with a guy before, Dave mad you feel cherished and loved, everything you always wanted, without ever having to ask, he was perfect for you. He accepted every flaw and rumple, and he never made you feel anything less than beautiful.

You wanted to live in this moment with him forever.

It was short-lived, unsurprisingly, before the two of you were being pulled apart once again to mingle, your mother wanting to introduce you to people and show you off, telling them all about your big university plans, and Dave being forced to help his mother host, the hours of the night passing by.

You were moved from group to group, the same questions being asked every single time, repeating the answers like a script you’d learned as you recited facts about your course, and told them what you liked, and what you thought would be improved on. You were asked about your college experience and the campus, and everything that the middle generation could possibly think of. You were sick of college, you were sick of being asked about how hard it was to be away from your family and friends, or whether it was liberating and gave you your freedom. You didn’t want anything but to enjoy being home, to hear about what you’d missed out in, instead of being interrogated about your life.

You managed to escape from the conversations, hiding away in the corner and letting out a sigh, eyes closing for a second as you tried to steal a moment to yourself, your phone buzzing in your bra from where you had stored it, no pockets or a bag, and just as you reached for it, there was a voice calling your name once again, and you wanted to bite down on the inside of your cheek just to stop a scream of frustration from leaving you.

A blonde head of hair was bobbing towards you, leaving the group within which her date was wowing a collection of the locals with his information on music and his up and coming cat-food album. Aubrey Miller, somebody you had formed a begrudging allegiance with over this last year, the girl constantly messaging you on Facebook, commenting on your Instagram posts and retweeting you, and so you’d simply accepted that she was going to be a part of your life. Besides, you never wanted to feel like the jealous ex, because you weren’t and you knew Dave loved you, but sometimes it irked you how she always seemed to be around at the most inconvenient of times.

Your phone buzzed again, but she was taking both of your hands in hers, squeezing tightly and laughing as though something had been said. “It’s been so long since I last saw you!”

“Yep, that’s right.” You managed to muster a somewhat enthusiastic tone, unsure of how you did it, but she seemed to breeze on over it, charging straight into her next topic. “How is life at college? It’s so far away!”

“Can we talk about something other than college? I’ve been talking about it all evening.”

She paused, chuckling for a second, before nodding her head. “Sure, I haven’t had a chance to talk to you about my new place yet! I’m having a house warming party, and I wanted to invite you. Dave and his family will be there, of course.” You ground your teeth a little, smiling through it as she spoke on behalf of your boyfriend, but knowing that deep down you were just a little frazzled because of the night.

“Sounds fun, I’ll be there.”

“Great, it’s in just a few days, I can send you the details!” You only nodded and smiled, glancing around the room to try and catch sight of your lover, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Besides, it’ll be nice for you and Dave to have some more quality couple time together, I know how lonely he’s been feeling lately.”

A lump formed in your throat, your eyes snapping back to her own as your brows furrowed, narrowing a little as you looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, gosh, no.” Her eyes widened, shaking her head as she realised how her words had come out. “I know what that came out as, but I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I hear some things, and he said some stuff earlier tonight.”

“Like what?” You mumbled, arms crossing over your chest as you stared at her, insecurities beginning to creep in.

“Well, I’m the only one still around here, so I talk to the parents a lot. His mom is really proud of him, and of you. She loves you, she talks about you both every book club, but Dave just misses you a lot. He tells her, she spills it to us, that's all. She likes me, but only as a friend. She never liked me the way she likes you, like you’re her own daughter.” You smiled a little at that, warmth blossoming in your chest at the idea of being welcomed so wholly into his family. “I was talking to him earlier tonight, just before you arrived, his mom was grilling him about moving out and making moves, plans for his life, y’know?”

“Yeah, he told me about that.”

“Well, did he tell you the part where he just felt alone, because he never got to see you? I like you, I admire you, I really do, but Dave is my friend. I’m not still in love with him, I’m in love with Ronnie, but him and I went through a hard time and Dave was there for me during that time. I want to be there for him, too.” You were suspicious once again, somehow feeling like you weren’t going to like what was about to come from her. “It’s Christmas, and you’re here now, so clearly we’re on the same page, but I told him that I thought you should be here, because it’s the holidays. I wasn’t trying to start anything, I was just giving him the same real talk that he gave me when I couldn’t see the truth about Ronnie.”

“The truth? Are you trying to tell me that you told Dave you didn’t think I was good enough for him?”

“No, of course not! I just told him that I thought he should be thinking about why you couldn't be here, and whether you were growing too busy for him, and he should prepare himself before any more hurt came.” Your jaw clenched, and she cursed under her breath, seeming to realise that she still wasn’t getting her words right. “I’m messing this all up.”

“You think?”

She pursed her lips at your hissed out words, and you stiffened as you felt arms sliding around your waist, a chin hooking over your shoulder, and she excused herself, pointing over her shoulder, before disappearing into the crowds, and you twisted around in the arms of the man who was holding you. “You haven’t been replying to my texts.”

“You feel alone?”

His face dropped, the smile disappearing, and eyes widening as he looked at you. “What?”

“You confessed to Aubrey and not me?” He looked panicked, freezing up before you, and you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to reassure him a little, not wanting him to bolt or get overly anxious. “You should tell me these things. I’m your girlfriend, if we’re having issues, I want to know about it.”

He held onto your hand, bringing your knuckles to his mouth, pressing kisses along them as he sighed. “We don’t have any issues at all, sweetheart. It’s just me being insecure and needy, that’s why I didn’t tell you. I just miss you a lot, but I know you’re busy.”

“I would make more time for you, though, if I knew you needed me.”

“Yeah, but then you’d be putting all your work aside, and you’d get more stressed than you already are, and I don’t want that.” Your heart warmed, watching him put your needs before his own, and you leaned up enough to bump your noses together. “I’m sorry, I just wish we had some more time together.”

“I know, but we will, okay? I promise, the future holds a lot of quality time for me and you.”

“It does?”

There was a hopeful tone to his voice that made your lower lip tremble a little, pressing a series of kisses to his lips that were for his assurance as well as your own, and he sighed happily at knowing you weren’t angry with him, kissing you back until you pulled away. “Wanna’ find a quieter? We can have some quality time.”

“Yeah?” He wiggled his brows a little, and you grinned, already knowing exactly where his mind had gone. “It’s loud in here. I keep getting pulled away to mingle. You know what I really want?”

“What do you want, honey?” You reached up, fingers smoothing through his hair, weaving through the strands as you tried to restyle the hair atop his head that was starting to flop back down into his forehead as the gel wore off.

“I just want to makeout with my girlfriend on New Year's Eve, like I should be able to. I’m young and horny, and my girl is hot, I don’t want to spend it away from her and socialising.” He huffed out the words, and you tried to cover up your laugh, raising your brows. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because I’m remembering how we missed last year’s countdown, and your mom was furious about it, and she didn’t even know what we’d really done.” His lips parted a little as he remembered it, eyes glazing over as he went back to that moment, and his lips were beginning to curl up at the edges, pulling your body in a little closer to his own. “Stop that, I know where your mind is going.”

“You brought it up!”

“To prove to you that we have to stay here!” You laughed, and his hands ran a little further down your sides, pushing you closer to the wall, and your breathing hitched in your throat as his grip became tighter, body pressing into you as you were pushed up into the surface. “Dave..”

“We could be quick, back in time for the countdown. Nobody has to know.”

You shook your head, resistance beginning to fail as his nose nuzzled at the underside of your jaw, lips dragging over your skin teasingly, before he was pressing a soft kiss to the spot just below your ear that made you shake in his hold, your body betraying you as a tremor wracked along your body, making you arch up into him a little further.

“C’mon, kitten. You look so good tonight, and now you got me thinking about sex. What do you expect from me, when you’re here looking this good, and you’re all mine, huh?”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” You muttered, already preparing to cave in to his pleadings, before he was pinching at your ass roughly through your dress, snickering at the yelp you let out as he did, and he palmed roughly at the patch instead. As you released a little moan, his mouth closed over yours to silence you, a hot kiss as his tongue plunged into your mouth, tangling with your own without even a second’s hesitation.

You were putty in his hands, and you already know it. Clearly, he did too, because his hips were pushing into yours as he held you up to the wall, risking it all as people continued to wander around you, and it only took one o the more conservative neighbours or one of your parents to see for it all to be over, the two of you to be chastised like children again, taking you back to your youth, but you had absolutely no reservations when it came to him.

As you finally pulled back for breath, feeling his lips trace along your jaw, you nodded your head, giving in and telling him what he wanted to hear. “Okay, let’s go.”

He snapped up, lips a little swollen and eyes glossy, a look on his face that made your thighs clamp together and rub with need, and his gaze flickered down as he caught onto the action. Taking your hand in his, he dragged you away, glancing back at you over his shoulder as he heard you giggle, before making his way to the staircase. He went ahead of you, your feet barely having touched halfway up the set, before your eyes were closing in on the hoards of people upstairs, too.

It was twice as busy as it had been last year, the two of you having been able to sneak away to the empty upstairs, but even the corridors outside of his bedroom were busy, and as you finally pushed through the people to open the door, finding his bed piled high with coats, bags and purses.

“Of course.” He mumbled, practically hearing his mother’s voice yelling at him again for disappearing, a little task clearly done on purpose to ensure the two of you had nowhere to sneak off to this time, but he wasn’t giving up so easily. “Basement?”

You nodded, falling into step beside him, and chasing after him, adrenaline and excitement racing through your veins. There was always the risk of getting caught, there was last time too, but this was something else. Last time, you didn’t know what would come of it, it could've been a one-time thing, and so this one was all new kinds of thrilling. A year into your relationship, and you were making up for all the time that you had lost, searching for new excitement as you celebrated the time that had passed together.

As your fingers hooked onto the door to the stairs leading down, the light was already on, your stomach sinking, and the further down you went, the more kids you already found hanging out down there, a game of twister in play as thirteen year old girls all squealed and giggled, eyes wide as they stared at you while trying to balance.

You both mumbled your apologies for interrupting, backing your way out, and there was a pout on his lips as you returned to the main party. Leaning up, your body slumped into his, large hands smoothing over your back, before you were teasing the lobe of his ear with your teeth, a shudder rolling over his body as you did. “Don’t you have a treehouse?”

“Only if I can climb up the ladder behind you.”

“You’re going to get to see what’s up my skirt anyway.” You scoffed, and he only winked, the two of you stumbling out into the back garden dirty little jokes and exchanges as you poured out of the back door. There were considerably fewer people milling around the garden, the cooler temperatures making people prefer the indoors, and as you approached the treehouse, a muffled set of giggles caught your attention from the top of the ladder as you stood at the bottom.

An incredulous look flashed over your features at the idea that someone might have actually already beat you to that spot, and Dave groaned in frustration, kicking at the wood before him, and the ladder trampled a little from the force. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!”

He turned to look at you, frustration flicking across his face as disappointment set in, your shoulders rising and falling in a shrug, not sure what else to say, and the two of you began to trudge back inside. The backdoor way was blocked as you approached it, Dave’s hands clenching by his sides as he navigated you around to the side of the house, using the spare key to open the garage door, and knowing that there was a lock to the main kitchen from inside of it.

Sealing it up behind yourselves and replacing the hidden key, he navigated himself between his car and his mom’s, parked at alternating angles toward the kitchen, and an idea flashed through your mind.

“Dave!”

“Yeah?” His hand was sitting on the handle to the kitchen, ready to flick the lock on it open, light spilling out from the crack under the door.

“We’re alone.” He paused, and your arms motioned out around yourself, the chill of the room quickly making your hands clamp back up at your sides, and he seemed excited for just a second, before shivering himself.

“It’s freezing, and there’s nowhere to lay down.”

“Come over here and warm me up, then.” You smirked, leaning against the edge of his car next to the front, and his face lit up, hopping back down the steps towards you. Hands hooked under your thighs, lifting you into his arms for just a second, before the cold metal of the car’s hood was pressing into you, making you gasp at the chill, his body taking place between your parted thighs.

It all became irrelevant, though, when his mouth collided with yours, slamming together with heated intensity, and all of that burning passion came rushing back. Hands were burning on your thighs, bringing your legs around to wrap at his waist, the material of your dress falling aside as the wrapped material fell open, rough palms dragging over the smooth skin.

One hand was sitting on his face, feeling his jaw moved under your own, sharp and smooth from where he’d freshly shaven, rough kisses making your lips sting as you pressed back with an equal kind of love, your other hands tingling in his hair. Your lungs were burning for oxygen, your head spinning the longer you prolonged the inevitable. Finally pulling back for breath, you dragged your mouth along his jaw, feeling the moan that rumbled up in his throat as you licked your way along the column, his pulse pounding beneath the skin as you kissed across that same spot.

He tipped his head back, letting you work longer, and when your lips came to meet the collar of the same dress shirt he wore, your hands slipped down to his shoulders, to his chest, nails scratching at the muscles underneath loft and he puffed up into your hold, before your fingers were finding the buttons.

“I love it when you wear smart shirts.” You mumbled, each space of skin exposed as you undid his shirt being pressed with a kiss from your lips, faint marks of your lipstick being left over his skin the lower you went, until you were untucking it from the belt around his waist, and leaving it to hand open. Goosebumps travelled over his skin when your nails scraped across the lightly defined muscles of his abs, red marks being left in your traces as you did, your fingers hooking into the belt loops of his jeans. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He mumbled, fingers playing with the belt around your waist, the sequinned design making it harder for him to find the catch, but when it fell loose, he was quick to let it drop away to the floor, discarded as you pulled his belt free from his jeans. “You’re telling me that all that’s holding this whole dress shut is two buttons?”

His eyes were wide, nimble fingers undoing the button on the outside, and pushed the base of the dress open a little more, a smirk forming on his lips, before looking up to catch your eyes.

“Wearing my favourite panties, too, huh?”

“Not the matching bra, though.” Your words were whispered, a hoarse voice, and he licked over dried lips, before popping the final button and letting the material expose you to him fully. He hummed happily, two hands smoothing across your stomach, pushing you down until the cold metal of the car until you were laying back across it, large palms cupping at your tits and squeezing roughly.

You couldn't help the way you pushed up into his hands, a loud moan falling from you, and he shushed you quietly, bending at the waist to press a wet kiss to the spot just under your ribs, licking at the spot teasingly as he worked his way down and around your navel. “Keep quiet, baby, we don’t want anyone to come in here and see you with your legs wrapped around my head, do we?”

A single finger ran under the crotch of your panties, knuckle brushing over your clit, and you bit down on your lip to contain the whimper that such a feeling aroused within you, your hips bucking against his hand. He pulled back, snapping the edge of the lace garment against your folds, chuckling at the gasp you made when he did, before he was pushing them to the side. Holding them or of the way, dragging a finger across your slit, a happy sound produced from him as slick coated the tip of the digit, swirling with a filthy sound bouncing around the two of you as he did, sinking a single finger into your walls.

“So wet for me. I love getting this reaction out of you. What got you all worked up tonight, hm?” He was sinking further down, nipping along the indies of your trembling thighs, and despite the cold metal you were laying along, you were already burning up from the inside out, eagerly awaiting the moment in which his mouth would reach the place that you wanted it the most. “Was it the dancing? Or the outfit? Tell me what made you like this.”

He pumped the finger slowly, and your hands formed fists, nails digging into your skin as you found your first orgasm beginning to build rapidly within your stomach, guts winding up into a tightening coil and you tried to catch your breath just to be able to reply. “You did.”

“Mhm, I know that, but what specifically?” He pushed, dragging his tongue slowly over your centre, and you let out a loud cry, cutting it off halfway through by covering your mouth with your hand, eyes rolling back in your head as the pad of his tongue dragged slowly across your clit, electricity sparking across your body. “You can have what you want as soon as you use your words, kitten.”

“You did! Just you, nothing special. I just love you, you drive me crazy.” Your words were slurred and rushed out, but he paused for a second, his finger no longer pumping but instead curling within you, pad searching along your walls until he found the spot he was looking for, your entire body jerking at the stimulation with you.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dave, please! You know how I feel about you, stop teasing me now.” He nodded, pressing down once more on the patch within you that made you cry out, before he was pulling back, sinking to his knees entirely and giving you exactly what you wanted. A hot and wet mouth closed over your folds, tongue parting them and licking at everything that had already built up, teasing around your entrance as he slurped up what you had to give. Teeth dragged across your clit, enough of a sting to make you cry out into the cover of your hand, your eyes rolling in your head hips bucking up into his face, and he was more than happy to allow it.

Easing your thighs up onto his shoulders so he could move deeper, your legs clamping around his head with every motion he made, every shake of his head as he worked at your centre, lips sealing around the throbbing button nestled between your thighs to focus on the pleasure it brought you. Dave was skilled with his mouth, he’d known what he was doing since the very first time he’d gone down on you, but basic skills had become honed to your body, being able to read you, everything he did bringing you closer and closer to melting bliss.

Tears lined your eyes, squeezing shut to contain them as the simulations all became too much, and your other hand came down to thread into his hair, pulling roughly, your words muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and it became your only way of communicating with him. Fingertips were digging into the muscle of your thighs, holding you still as he dove into you, again and again, tongue lapping at every drop that came from you.

His tongue was plunging in and out of you, fucking you against the wet article as your keened up and into his hold, writhing against the hood of the car, speech becoming completely incomprehensible. Dave was by no means boring in bed, but there was always something exciting about the idea of fucking right when there was someone on the other side of a door, and right now there was a wheel party that might hear you scream Dave’s name, because as his tongue traced at your walls, lips and teeth teasing over your clit, alternating between where he wanted to please you the most, your arm was growing heavier and heavier, your climax teetering on the edge.

He knew it too, reading you like a book, pulling away and prying your legs from around his head before he was grabbing a hold of you and pulling you up to stand. Your legs buckled underneath you, almost falling away to the floor if it wasn't for his hands supporting you, a dark chuckle was sounding in your ear, a wet kiss placed to your cheek, before he was turning you around. Your hands pressed to the car, using it for support as he pressed up behind you, fingers dipping down and under the waistband of your panties.

He wasted no time, two fingers plunging into your already stretched out core, and just as a loud cry of his name left you, his other hand was skating up, over your throat, making your breathing hitch, before he was tipping your head back onto his shoulder. A thumb slipped into your mouth, and you sucked onto it, using the digits to muffle yourself as two fingers began to slam in and out of you.

It was oddly reminiscent, the amusement of the thought flashing across your mind for a split second, about just how comparative this was to New Years last year. Dave standing behind you, hand in your panties and cock straining into your ass as he prepared to fuck you senseless, except this time it wasn’t just lust, but love too.

As your peak came crashing over you, your eyes were rolling back in your head, shaking in his arms as he held you tightly, your underwear becoming far too uncomfortable as your juices slicked up his fingers, ruining the material as he kept going to rid you through it, the pads of his fingers brushing against your sensitive walls, the heel of his hand brushing over the swollen bud that fireworks explode within you.

When you finally couldn't take it anymore, he let you go, slumping down in an undignified manner across the hood of the car. Your dress was half hanging off of you, and you shucked the material down your arms and to the floor, feeling like you were burning alive in it now, skin covered with a thin layer of sweat from the heat building between you both, and your thighs were still twitching a little.

A hand came down roughly on your ass, and you jerked at the feeling, hissing out a curse to your boyfriend, and he didn’t reply, a more than proud and cocky look on his face as he palmed at the stinging skin.  

“We have two options.” He knelt down, fingers hooking into your panties, pulling them roughly down your thighs, until you could step out of them, and he pressed kisses all the way back up along your skin, until he was standing again. “Option one, I can fuck you over the hood, but you gotta’ keep quiet.” He pinched at your ass cheek, the one he’d laid a spank to, and you moaned, pushing back into his touch.

“And the other option?”

“Option two, you can ride me in the front seat, and scream as loud as you want.” You whimpered, managing to find enough strength to turn around to face him, fingers hooking into his belt loops and stand up a little further.

“I like option two.” You whispered your response against his mouth, lips brushing together, and he could only nod, tongue flicking out to lick at your mouth a little, spreading the taste of you to your own lips until it was smeared there. He reached behind you, pressing up to you until you fell backwards, and he opened the door, stepping away from you with a wide smirk and half-lidded eyes.

Tugging open the front of his jeans, the zipper grated angrily as it came undone, and he palmed at himself through the thick material, thumbs hooking into the waistband to push both the denim and the cotton of his underwear beneath it down, a dripping and flushed red cock springing up, slapping against his stomach and leaking with shining precum, bobbing in the cool air, a sight that made you legs clench together tightly.

Collapsing down into the passenger seat, he patted at his thighs, tempting you forwards while rummaging through the dash box, finding one of the emergency condoms that the two of you kept hidden in his car at all times, and tearing the little packet open as you settled across his lap, cramped into the chair. As he rolled the rubber along his length, pumping himself slowly, and you cranked back the lever on the seat to push it backwards.

As he laid down you were granted more pace, hair falling around the pair of you like curtains, hiding the meshing of your lips as your hands found a home on either side of his shoulders to support the weight of you above him. His hands were on your hips as you sank down, rolling yourself along his length, the head of his cock dragging through your folds and pushing with a delicious friction against your button every single time.

Finally, when the tension became too much, he shifted, hips bucking up and into you, the head of his cock sinking within your walls, and he reached one hand out to find the car door, pulling on it and slamming it shut, before bucking his hips up the rest of the way inside of you. Your arms trembled, almost dropping you down onto him as the pressure of his cock within you stretched you to your limits, filling you up perfectly just as he did every single time, his name spilling from you in a drawn-out whine as he gave you a moment to adjust.

“That’s right, baby, call my name. Tell the world who makes you feel this good.”

“Dave!” He leaned in, sitting you up a little in his lap and helping you start to make rhythms with your hips, lips closing around one perky nipple. Your fingernails were dragging marks into the pale flesh of his shoulders as you held on for dear life, his mouth working over your chest with the same vigour and determined enthusiasm that he’d used to assault your core. “Fuck, Dave!”

The head of his cock was pressing up to that spot within you that made everything go fuzzy, the world melting away until it was just the two of you left. As you grew more in your confidence, the simple circling and rocking of your hips became more, you became bold enough to lift yourself up, slamming yourself back down onto him, and he switched to your other breast, equal treatment being shared across your body.

“Oh, my God. You’re so fucking good..” Your words were whined out, and you couldn't wait for the morning, when you’d wake up with that ache between your legs, body littered with fading bites and bruises made out of love, and he was beginning to thrust his hips up a little into you. For every movement that he made to meet you, another fizz of electricity and excitement raced through your veins, another moment here your entire body lit up with sunshine and fireworks just for him, because he took you to heights of pleasure that you’d never before experienced.

“Louder, kitten. Scream louder for me, like I know you can.”

He licked over the pad of his thumb, slipping the hand between your bodies, and pressing down roughly on the already overstimulated bud that was throbbing and desperate for attention with every brush across the hair-smattered skin at the base of his cock. “Dave!”

“Louder!”

Two fingers pinched at your clit, and your head was thrown back, eyes welling with tears at the joy of pain that made you unravel once again, nails ripping marks into his skin as you quivered on top of him, his name leaving your lips in a loud scream like a mantra. The windows were fogging up, the heat becoming unbearable around you both, and yet it still felt perfect, the two of you boiling in hell as you roasted within the weight of your sins; filthy and reckless, utterly debaucherous as you stole yet another chink of one another’s innocence with each dirty act.

You couldn't help it, the need that washed over you, the easy way that every time you were with him felt addictive never wanting to pull away, no matter how spent you became, because chasing a high with home was just too good to pass up on.

Your forehead pressed to his, skin slick and sliding together with sweat, and you slammed yourself back onto him, riding him for everything that you were worth, and from the way he was beginning to shake and quiver underneath you, you could tell that he was nearing a peak that would make his eyes roll back in his head the same way yours did.

“Always so damn tight, so good for me. Perfect, baby, all mine.” He was babbling, the same way he always did when he was nearing his climax, and your walls were fluttering around him, never once taking a break, chasing up both of you final crashing downs. You felt like you’d been electrified, and he planted his feet on the floor, arms circling your waist to pull you down until your legs were folded against the chair, chests pressed together, and he could buck up without restraint into you.

You were boneless, feeling like you’d become nothing but jelly, your throat raw as you cried out his name, eyes crossing at the feeling of how deep he could reach within you, and all that you could hear was the sounds he made, low growls and grunts, cracking voice as he moaned your name and a slew of praises, and your heart beating in your ears.

Your blood was rushing, heart threatening to explode entirely for you both, racing and banging against your ribs.

“Don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.” You whispered, unable to muster up anything else, and as you came undone for the final time, the clenching of your walls dragged him along with you. He bit down on your shoulder as he came, only dragging out the feelings you were experiencing, and you felt as though you’d blacked out for a moment as your vision spotted, everything within you going numb, except for all the places where you were joined to him, hands on your waist and cock buried inside of you.

“Yes, kitten, fucking hell!”

“I know!” You squeaked, the aftermath of your orgasm making you twitch and clench around him, and he groaned, squirming at the overstimulation and lifting you off of him, pacing you down into the driver’s seat.

The windows were fogged up, marks streaked across the glass as you wiped them clear, and you reached across, opening one of the doors and sighing happily at the cool breeze that swept across your body. There was a chafing sting along the backs of your thighs from the denim that was still bunched tightly around his upper legs, and he cringed as he peeled back the condom that was still wrapped around his softening cock.

You tried to move, tingling sensations spreading the whole length to the tips of your fingers and toes as you tried to wiggle some kind of feeling back into them, sitting up a little as you made attempts to regain control of your body, and your elbow recessed into the horn, a scratch sounding from you as it sounded out loudly. Your boyfriend jumped too, loud barks of laughter leaving him as you did, and you almost joined him, before panic was washing over you both, heads snapping over to the garage door that connected to the kitchen, fear making your blood turn to icy cement in your veins.

When nobody came through, he turned to shoot out a mock glare, slapping at your thigh lightly. Lifting his hips up awkwardly, he managed to tug his jeans back up, searching around for his shirt and finding it discarded on the floor, unaware of when he’d even taken it off, but finding it messed up alongside the various garments that you had been wearing too.

“Think we should go back?”

“Probably.” He sighed, leaning over the centre console for a kiss, lips puckered and a hand landing on your cheek to pull your mouth down to his, delicate and sweet as he made the most of the final moments.

When you felt like you might be able to stand up without falling, you removed yourself from the car, the temperatures having dropped as you came down, and the chill of the crisp December air was making goosebumps rise through your skin. He was messing with his belt when you finally had your panties back on, your dress on your arms but hanging open, the same way his shirt was, and he closed up the car doors, chuckling at the way you wobbled as you buttoned your dress back up.

His hands found your hips, mouth coming back to claim your own, smeared lipstick making his pale skin stand out even more, and you giggling against his mouth, the rubbing of his thumbs through your dress was soothing and relaxing, bringing you back down to earth from the cloud nine that he’d taken you to, and you did up the buttons along the front of his shirt, trying to get them right without looking, but in your haze, the task was too hard, and you dragged your lips from his kiss to be able to check the task.

He smoothed down your hair for you, grinning at the messed up state that it had become, and you ran a finger around the edges of your lips to clear away the smeared lipstick that was now just a mess on both of your mouths, and you were glad that it had already begun to fade somewhat before this had all taken place.

He licked at his own lips, making sure the colour you’d printed onto him was gone, and when you finally judged yourselves to be appropriate again, or as appropriate as you were going to get, he opened the door for you both to reenter the house. The kitchen was warmer, and while you’d adjusted to the difference in temperature while Dave’s body had been pressed up to your own to keep you warm, you were glad to be back into the heated room. The doors were all closed now, the crowds having thinned, parents with younger children or older parents leaving, and yet there were still enough people that you managed to slip back into the party without being noticed as absent.

“See? Fifteen minutes ‘til the countdown. We’re just in time.”

Champagne flutes had been laid out along the island in the kitchen, all filled up perfectly, and Dave had two in his hands, passing one over to you, and you clinked them together, fingers weaving and palms pressed or one another’s as you walked into the rest of the house. The music had quietened, and the television had been turned on, the countdown displayed prominently on the screen as the final few minutes began to tick down, and Dave’s mother was making the rounds with a bottle of champagne to top up the glasses of anybody who needed it, always laying the perfect hostess.

Taking a small sip of the liquid in your glass, you winced slightly, but swallowing it anyway. It wasn’t your drink of choice, and you weren’t particularly keen on it, but since the two of you were not only celebrating the new year, but celebrating your anniversary, you were indulging in something a little classier. Dave’s hand was sitting low on your waist, letting you curl into his side, the night plodding on, and Stella and her friends were sprawled out on the couch, all looking absolutely exhausted, trying their very vest to keep their eyes open for long enough to see the countdown.

Now that it wasn’t as busy, you could see the extent of the mess left by the party, food trays and empty platters stacked high on the dining table, plastic cups and paper plates all over the room, both floors and surfaces, and there was enough leftover food and crumbs that it would probably fill a bag all on its own. Party poppers had been set off by the younger children before their parents had taken them home, leaving confetti and streamers on the floor, among the shredded remains of popped balloons and lost belongings. It was a catastrophe, and yet somewhere within yourself, you still couldn't wait until it is you hosting the party, getting to play that role.

A squeeze at your side brought you back to reality, dragging you from your thoughts, and you looked up to your boyfriend, finding him nodding his head towards the television, just as the timer clicked over onto one minute left, everybody beginning to crowd into the room just to see the screen, and you once again found yourself surrounded on all sides.

“What’s your New Year’s resolution, baby?”

You thought about it, unsure yourself as to what it actually was, nibbling on your lower lip a little, before letting out a sigh. “I suppose it would just be to complete this school year to the best of my ability, and to start journaling, because I keep wanting to do that and never get around to it.” He chuckled at the addition, watching as you pouted to yourself for only a moment, before you were turning your attention back to him. “What about you?”

“Same as every year; just to make every moment count. To make good memories.”

You giggled a little, a countdown beginning to start around you as the numbers on the clock hit twenty, and you rolled your eyes slightly, coming to stand before him more clearly. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Maybe, but it’s worked out pretty well for me so far.” His nose bumped against your own, and as the final countdown hit, your eyes were fluttering shut, whispering the figures as they dropped lower and lower, sinking into that same bubble that consisted of only you and he, until his lips were pressing to yours with the number one, a warm and loving kiss, his arm squeezing around you even more tightly than it had been and pulling you up into his chest, your free hand resting over his jaw, thumb stroking lightly across his skin, before settling to sit just behind his ear.

There was loud cheering, shuffling and celebrating, your bodies being jostled as hands landed on your shoulders in pats of congratulations and celebrations, but you paid them no mind, instead simply being focused on the way that it felt to kiss the man you loved as the year clicked over, welcoming you both into your second year of being in a relationship, and being in love.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed an equally adoring kiss to your cheek, and you could feel his smile pressed against you, the last scents of his fading cologne washing over you as you were shifted into a hug, feeling his cheek pressing against your temple. “Happy New Year, baby.”

“Happy New Year, Davie.”

You knew that you should call your parents and wish them the same, and that you should begin to acknowledge all the friends and family that were surrounding you, but for one more selfish moment, you wanted to absorb the time you had with him. When he pulled back, it was to clink your glasses together, one eye dropping in a cheeky wink, before the pair of you were downing what was within your glasses, trying to school the appalled looks on your faces as the taste trickled down your throats, fizzing and making itself known, before it as finally gone.

“Go and find your mom and your sister, I’ll call my parents, and I’ll find you afterwards.”

He only nodded his head, a final peck pressed to your lips, before he was disappearing through the crowds to find them.

You managed to find a quiet corner, pulling out your phone and calling your mother to wish both her and your father a happy New Year, and listening to them talk all about how they’d spent their own evening, bickering playfully about the movie they’d watched and the conversations they’d had, before bidding you a goodnight and telling you to use the spare key to let yourself in, as they’d locked the door, and were on their way to bed.

It was almost fickle how quickly the masses began to clear away. Once they’d had their midnight celebrations and welcomed in the turn of the year, they were already all beginning to leave, cars along the street roaring to life and taxis being called to ferry the more drunken patrons to their addresses, and the people around you were beginning to dwindle.

It wasn’t all that hard to find your love, his height and hair giving him away, messy locks standing out in the crowns of middle-aged neighbourhood women that had gathered around him and his little sister to coo at them and wish them the best, his face flushed a little pink as his eyes finally connected with your own, a look in them that screamed for help.

You hesitated, allowing him to be fussed over for a moment later, before finally, you took pity on him, moving in towards the group and taking the hand that he had outstretched for you. The neighbours didn’t like you nearly as much as they liked him, because he was the ‘handsome young man’ that they wanted to set up with their nieces and grand-daughters, but you were just the polite young lady who had taken that chance away. They favoured Dave greatly, and you weren’t surprised at all, because you favoured him too.

He was honest, well-mannered, funny, and a real sweetheart. His fingers laced with yours, letting you pull him away from the groups, and he followed after you, feet kicking through discarded rubbish on the ground. A yawn was pulling at your lips, and you covered it with your hand, trying to shake your head clear as tiredness crept in.

“Do you want a lift home?”

“I’ll call a cab, you’re just as tired as I am.” You mumbled, and he nodded his head, leaning down to be able to press his forehead to yours as your eyes fluttered shut. “Let me go and grab some bags, and we’ll start getting this place tidied up a bit.”

“Leave it ‘til the morning.” He grumbled, hands locking on your hips to hold you steady, and you laughed softly into the space between you both.

“You’ll hate it in the morning if you do.” You took his hands, stepping away backwards, and pulling him along behind you as you tugged him into the kitchen, leaving him to lean against the counter while you found a couple of new bin bags, and pressed on into his hands. “If you clean up the whole kitchen while I do the living room, the next time we go out to eat, I’ll let you choose where we go.”

“That is a backhanded deal, because you know that you’ll complain and we’ll still go to your place.”

You shrugged, a cheeky grin on your face as you pecked his lips swiftly, barely giving him a chance to reply. “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for loving me.”

“Oh, that’s what I get, huh?” He mocked, grinning as you walked away, and beginning to focus on the kitchen-connected-dining room, sweeping trash into the bag, and you made your way through to the main room. Dave’s mother was bidding farewell to the last of her guests, and Stella was fast asleep on the couch, curled up in her favourite party dress and what seemed to be every single sparkly necklace she owned.

When the door finally closed, you heard the relieved sigh that Dave’s mother let out, and you chuckled, turning to face her upon clearing the top of the television cabinet, no more plastic cups, plates and waste to go into it, and she grinned through her exhaustion as she saw you.

“You shouldn't be doing that, darling, that’s my job.”

“It’s no trouble. I even managed to wrangle Dave into doing the kitchen.” You teased, and she looked completely shocked just at the thought, before you were sharing tired laughs.

She held the bag open, and you grabbed every piece of litter you could find, and you were certain that while the room might look clear now, it would probably be littered with missed pieces of crap in the morning, when fresh eyes after a goodnight’s sleep were cast over it, but you were sure that the Hodgman’s would be able to handle it, especially with the head-start that you were giving them.

With the two of you working together, you managed to clear the halls and closets too, leaving everything empty as far as you could, by the time Dave came to collect the bags, and take them outside to the trash cans. Taking another one, you began to clear upstairs, finding it much tidier than it had been downstairs, only one bag’s worth of rubbish to be thrown out, and you took this one yourself, Dave trying to cover his tiredness as he swept the floors, glitter and confetti cleared from the solid oak floorboards until they were visible once again.

Stella managed to sleep through it all, drooling onto a pillow as she lay half-propped up, and your heart beat just for the sweet little girl, loving her as much as you’d love a little sister. Taking out the last of the litter, the bins were overflowing, the old year being ushered out by plastic and bottle, and you tried to shove it down, dusting off your hands when you finally made all the bags fit. The streetlights were yellowed and dull, making you realise just how late it had gotten and how tired you really were, the stars twinkling overhead and lulling you back into the sleepy haze you’d left behind to clean.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed at your skin, trying to warm back up as you wandered up to the house, letting yourself in and leaning back against the door as you let out a deep sigh. Dave was making his way up the stairs, carrying his snoozing baby sister, and you watched him go, until he was disappearing from your view along the corridor.

“You okay, sweetie?’

You jumped a little, snapping over to look at his mother, who was watching fondly from the doorway, a nostalgic look on her face as her hands sat on her hips, and you shrugged a little. “Just tired. Thank you for a lovely evening, Mrs Hodgman. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

She scoffed, waxing a hand as she made her way towards you, and leaning behind you to flick the locks on the door, rubbing your shoulder lightly. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re never a bother. You’re welcome to stay, and Dave can get you all sorted out.”

“Well, I can take the couch and just sl-”

“Oh, honey, I’m a mom, not a nun. You’ve been dating my son for a year now, I’m certain you and my son have shared a bed before, so sharing a bed won’t be an issue tonight.” Your face flared up with heat and you gaped at her, watching as she flicked off the remaining lights around the both of you. “You can stay over, I’ve already left your parents a message to explain. There’s no way I could possibly send you home at this time of night and feel at all like a responsible mother.”

She was walking up the stairs ahead of you, leaving you to stand alone in the darkness with heated cheeks and amused embarrassment coursing through your veins. Following her up the stairs, she slipped into her own bedroom, wishing you a goodnight before the door was clicking shut, and Dave was backing out of his younger sister’s room and turning off the light. He jumped a little as he found you sitting on his bed when he turned around, eyebrows shooting up a little, and he stepped into his bedroom, a softening tired look on his features.

“I think your mom just gave me a version of ‘the talk’.”

“She did what?” He was equally mortified and amused, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the corner of the room, a hand closing behind his head to tug the material up and over his head, dropping it into the laundry bin in the corner.

“She said she knows we ‘share a bed’, and so tonight we can share a bed.” He snorted a laugh at your words, undoing the belt around his waist and leaving it abandoned on his desk, a smile on his face as he looked at you.

“That means you’re staying the night?”

“Yes, it does. You’d better find your best pair of sweats and a t-shirt for me.” He tapped at his drawers, undoing the button and zipper on his belt to be able to push them away down his legs, the denim pooling at his ankles, and your gaze followed them, a smirk on your face as he almost tripped over them while trying to get them off.

“You know where my clothes are, get them yourself.” He had a cocky look on his face, pulling a pyjama top on alongside his boxers and disappearing into the bathroom to clean his teeth.

It was a true statement, you knew exactly where all of his clothes lay, and you folded yours neatly to rest on his desk, finding a pair of sweats that hung baggy around your ankles and a t-shirt of his to wear, before allowing him into the bathroom. His hip bumped against yours, brush hanging from his mouth as he winked at you in the mirror, pulling a face a moment after, and almost making you gag on the mouthwash you had, chuckling to himself as you spat it away and cursed at him under your breath, and hot tap coming on.

He left you alone to remove your makeup, already curled up in bed with the covers pulled back when you entered the room, door closing behind you and light being flicked off, using memory alone to guide you to where you knew he to be laying.

When you were all tucked in around him, feeling him chuckle at the shuffling you did to get comfortable, you finally settled with facing him in the dark, his hand running up and down over your sides as you adjusted yourself, one leg slung over his, and the minty taste of his breath lingering on your tongue as noses brushed together, sharing a pillow.

“I like this.”

You hummed, eyes closing a little, your hand coming up to find his, bringing it away from your side to instead clasp it between your bodies, and you dipped your head down to press a kiss to the fingers joined with yours. “Sharing a bed?”

“Well, yes, but other things. Getting to see you as much as I have this week, it’s been incredible. I’ve seen you almost every day, and I’d have you by my side even more than that if I could. Going back to college is going to suck.” You squeezed at his hands tightly, a spark of excitement running through you, despite your sleepy state.

“I thought you loved your college? You always tell me such great things about it.”

“Everything else could be world-class, award-winning, and it’d still suck because you’re not there.” His words were slurred with sleep, and you let his hand fall down to rest on the mattress, your palm pressing over his heart, feeling it beat steadily and solidly under your touch.

“Well, that’s no fun, is it? I’m expecting you to show me all of the great things to do.”

He let out a huff of amusement, never shifting, but shaking his head slightly. “Yeah, if we ever get some free time during this year for you to come visit.”

“What if I didn’t just visit? What if I stayed?”

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart, I might justice you down to the bed and refuse to let you leave.” He seemed to realise how his words had sounded, his body stiffening for just a moment, before breathy and quiet laughter was shared between you both, and he tipped his head up to press a long and slow kiss to your lips, both of you too lazy to really move, and so your lips played a lazy game together.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah? You breaking up with me? Because it would be awfully awkward if you did, we’d have to sleep back to back, and I would much rather cuddle.” He used the arm slung over your waist to pull you in closer, until his chin could rest on the top of your head and he could pull you in enough that your legs tangled and your chests pressed together.

“I’m not breaking up with you, you weirdo.”

“Your weirdo.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just listen to me, okay?’ He made a vague noise of agreement, going quiet despite the snickering that he was holding in, and you toyed with the material of his shirt, scratching lightly at his back as you tried to form words. “You know all the extra work I’ve been doing lately?”

“The work that’s been keeping you extra busy?” He sounded like he was pouting, a sulky voice, and you squeezed him a little tighter, not sure that you could get any closer to him if you tried, by now.

“It’s not been college work. Technically.”

“Extra credit?” He was half-asleep now, and you wanted to get this out before you lost him to sleep.

“No, transfer papers, and the likes.” You heard the sudden intake of breath that he too, body tensing up beside you, and then he was shifting a lot, pulling back and holding your face in both of his hands, more alert and awake than he had been for hours now. “There was a lot to do, I had class papers and catch-up assignments, and I still haven’t sorted out housing, but it went through. From now on we won’t have timezone struggles or differing social calendars, but our only problems would be different class schedules.”

“You’re serious?”

“One hundred percent.” You barely got your laugh out before his mouth was descending onto your own, a kiss that portrayed everything there was to say. Love, passion, adoration, gratitude, excitement, anything and everything that you could think of, feeling it all being conveyed.

This was exactly the reaction you’d been hoping for, you wanted him to be as thrilled as you were at the potential that the two of you would have, sharing a college as you moved to be closer to him, and there was a wetness to his cheeks as he twisted his head one gasping breath before he was dicing back in to kiss you again.

“I love you, Dave. I’m sick of being away from you.”

“I love you so fucking much.” He mumbled, lips stinging as they pressed for his, trying to return the eager kisses that he was gifting to you. When you finally needed a real breath, you pushed him back, shushing his complaints and groaning as you did, twisting your body to rest your head on his shoulder, and he kissed along the top of your head, any space he could reach, before finally laying back down into the blankets and settling in for sleep. “Happy New Year’s to me.”

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

Laughter is my Love Language

Summary:  Logan doesn't laugh much when Virgil first meets him. Eventually Virgil learns when Logan is truly happy is when he opens up.

Warnings: food mention, some self deprecating humor. If there are more please let me know!

Ships: Logan x Virgil, Analogical

WC: 1, 664

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @ace-in-a-shopping-cart (you had asked to be tagged in this a while ago, I hope it’s still okay)

Logan doesn’t laugh much when they first meet, which is somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. The problem was that Virgil was funny in the stupid way- which he blamed entirely on his dad’s humor that fell over to the punnier side. Crack a pun, reference a meme or as a last ditch effort self deprecating humor was usually relatable enough. Logan fell for none of those and more or less was just left confused by them- or he took the self depreciation too seriously and Virgil ended up with a heartfelt lecture on how important he was. Which, as sweet as it was, wasn’t the point of poking fun at something at his own expense.

--

“Boy Logan that sandwich is jam packed!” said Virgil sometime during their freshman year of high school.

Logan had looked at his sandwich in confusion. “There’s peanut butter there too- but yes it’s Crofters.”

Virgil fought to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah I know, it was a joke.”

“But it is packed with- oh that was a pun. Clever.” 

--

“Here comes dat boi!” Virgil cringed at his own voice as the meme reference fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t seen Logan smile once that day and all attempts at conversation had fallen flat so...memes. Why not? Logan was on his laptop often enough he had probably seen what he was referencing at some point. Plus Logan was gliding very confidently on his skateboard and Virgil was suddenly feeling very tense and wanted to break it. Logan, unhelpful as he was, merely stopped and kicked the board up to tuck underneath his arm.

“‘Dat’?” He questioned.

“I-it’s...a meme. I was- referencing a meme.”

“Ah.”

“...yeah.”

Nailed it.

--

“That’s just me being dumb though- you know how it is.” Virgil let out a defeated huff of laughter and settled his chin on his arms. It was their senior year and he was talking to Logan about his current grades. Everything else was straight A’s other than gym. He didn’t like changing in front of others and the bathrooms were blocked off for whatever reason so he just didn’t do it. He took the fail but still needed the credit or he’d have problems getting his diploma, which was completely stupid and unfair but he knew it was his own stubborn fault and-

“I don’t know.” Logan hadn’t laughed at the “joke”, of course he hadn’t. Virgil sighed, opening his mouth to say something else completely stupid and worthless but Logan beat him to it.

“You aren’t stupid. Lack of participation doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it means there’s some other problem that needs addressing if you’re willing to take a failing grade instead of confronting it.” Logan turned to him with a serious look. Always so serious. “So, if I may ask, where’s the problem?”

Virgil blinked. “It’s stupid.”

“Virgil.”

“I just...don’t like…” Virgil turned into his elbow, cheeks reddening at how dumb the problem really was.

“I didn’t hear you. Can you please speak up? Or write it down if that’s easier.”

Snorting he decided to take him up on that, tearing a scrap of paper off his notebook and writing it down.

There was a pause and then: “Is this all? If you take the make-up class there won’t be nearly as many people and if you get there early you can be changed before anyone sees you.”

Peaking around, Logan’s face was so genuine, like he actually wanted to help. Virgil almost didn’t have the heart to say why that was also a problem but he needed him to understand. “I won’t know anyone in the make-up class.”

Logan screwed his mouth to one side trying to figure out why that would be something Virgil would worry about. His face brightened somewhat as he looked back to Virgil. “If it would ease your anxiety I could take the class with you. While I may not have to make up for the credit, it is open to sign up for extra if anyone so chooses.”

Virgil bit his lip. That would- actually really help, but he couldn’t let Logan do that could he? “You don’t have to.”

“I am aware. But going would be a nice routine and I would be very happy to do it if it meant you would be more comfortable.”

“You’re serious? You would really do that?”

“I’m always serious, Virgil. Of course I will.”

Maybe sometimes Logan not getting the joke was a good thing.

--

“L, it’s three in the morning. Go to bed.” They were in college sharing a dorm, and though Virgil could fall asleep with the lights fully on so Logan’s lamp wasn’t keeping him awake, it was the fact the other man was still awake that was bothering him.

Logan let out a short, humorless laugh and waved hi hand. “I’m almost done.”

Virgil hated when he laughed like that. No happiness behind it, only stress and exhaustion and irritation. Sighing Virgil reached over and plucked the pencil from his hand, shooting him a warning look when it seemed like he was about to protest. He closed the book and stacked it neatly with the couple notebooks he had and placed the pencil and calculator on top. Turning to his dorm mate he pointed to the dresser in the corner. “Pjs. Now.”

Slightly concerned when Logan only stood up to do as he was told instead of arguing he shrugged it off and sat back down on the bed. Logan came over a moment later, plain black tee drooping over one shoulder and sleep shorts slightly rumpled. They really needed to do laundry. Before he could say as much, Virgil was suddenly on his back, Logan’s head on his chest with his legs sticking straight over the side. Laughing softly he ran his fingers through the others light red hair, combing out the tangles gently while Logan relaxed into him.

“Logan buddy, I love you so much but if we fall asleep like this we’ll never get up again.” The other grumbled but took a breath and rolled off his chest, swinging his legs over to turn on his side and nearly kicking Virgil in the head in the process. Smirking, Virgil crawled up behind him and flopped with his arm slung over his side. He laughed again when he realized he was already asleep, arms askew and already drooling on the pillow. Snuggling into his back and hugging him tight he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep himself.

--

Logan sat at the table with a book flat on the surface, notebook close by as he made careful notes for the next curriculum. His brow was pinched in thought and his third mug of coffee was cooling beside him, untouched for nearly an hour as he fixated on his work.

Virgil looked back out the window as he finished drying a glass. Gray clouds were rolling in and it was already starting to drizzle. Good,  they needed a good rain for the start of summer. Tuning in once again to the furious scratching of a pencil behind him he set the glass down and whirled around, racing over and catching Logan’s hands in his own to tug him up and towards the door. 

“Virgil what are we- it’s raining! Virgil!” Virgil stopped for a moment to look and see if Logan was actually distressed but upon seeing more fond annoyance than anything else he grinned and stepped out into the downpour. He took away one of his hands and led Logan in a spin down the porch, feet slipping slightly in the wet grass as he maneuvered them around. Logan was smiling now, stress lines gone from his face as wet hair flopped into his eyes and obscured his vision. Virgil’s own hair was slicked flat to his forehead, emo fringe he would never cut hanging down to his lips before he shook his head hard to dispel the water. Logan yelped and flinched away before laughing low at himself, grin turning mischievous as he reached up above virgil’s head to take a hold of a tree branch. Yelling as what felt like gallons of water soaked him he stood there thoroughly soaked and shivering slightly before letting out a howl of laughter, Logan following right after. He was sure the neighbors could hear them but he didn’t care. Logan was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides, shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

This was what Virgil loved most. Logan didn’t always laugh easily, not understanding the joke or understanding what was meant to be a joke but making sure the person was okay first. When he did laugh, it was one shared with others over whatever dumb, stress free thing they were doing. It was unplanned and in the moment, something Logan and Virgil were usually both averse to. But here in the rain, or getting icing everywhere on their wedding day, or the shared laughed when they woke up together after yelling at each other the night before to go to sleep it rang out; it was clear and joyful and carefree- a language all on it’s own that neither of them needed to “get” in order to join in .

When they first met Logan didn’t laugh a lot, which was somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. But when he opened up he began laughing all the time, each one precious and kept close to the chest. Virgil collected them, hoarded them even, storing them like coins in a jar in exchange for the happiness he felt each time he was the one to cause such a beautiful sound. And as they giggled still through slight coughs under a blanket that night, he couldn’t be more happy he could speak this language with Logan.

This work is also available on AO3!

If you like this please reblog! reblogs help creators get their work seen!

[mooshys]

tokyo day off

genre | gen, humor

characters | Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi, Kugisaki Nobara, Zenin Maki, Inumaki Toge, Panda, Gojo Satoru, Character Cameo, Reader

summary | A summer outing in the city takes a wrong turn.

word count | 4.0k

author’s note | I don’t know what possessed me to write this. I really don’t. But anyway, this came to me like a fever dream and I feel like we need some comfort after everything Gege has been putting us through with the current arc. Here’s to enjoying a day with your favorite characters in the city!

The day started like any other at Jujutsu High.

Classes began in the morning, lunch, some training, and afterwards time to relax was granted. Summer afternoons in Tokyo were hot, but the weather today wasn’t all too dreadful. The scatter of white clouds offered shade from the harsh rays of the sun and the breeze from the mountains tickled your skin, coaxing you out of your room.

With nothing to do, you and the rest of the student body congregated together in the usual spot near the dorms. At the base of a tree next to the training grounds, you sat behind Nobara, playing with her hair to make a neat braid as she scrolled through her phone. On either side of you, Megumi and Maki had their backs against the trunk, both flipping through a book and scanning the words at their own pace. The others were lying right on the grass in the shade, enjoying the nap inducing weather. Panda acted as a pillow for Yuuji and Inumaki as both boys were drawn to the plush of his fur.

The moment was serene. Calm. Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

It almost felt wrong to be doing nothing.

For a while, there was silence between the group with only the sounds of cicadas chirping in the trees and the caws of a crow to be heard. Nobara crossed her arms in front of her chest and let out an agitated sigh.

“I’m so bored!” Nobara groaned aloud. “How’re we in Tokyo and we’re doing absolutely nothing?”

“Hey, sometimes doing nothing isn’t all too bad,” you said as your fingers combed through her hair to finish the braid you were making. “I mean, I’m pretty sure the quote ‘May you live in interesting times’ is a curse.”

“It is,” Megumi agreed. His eyes were still on his book, but he was focused on the conversation. “It’s better that nothing’s happening anyway.”

Nobara stuck her tongue out at Megumi. “Booooooring.”

“If you’re so bored then just leave,” he snapped. 

Nobara was about to bite back, but you stopped her from arguing as you tied her hair, finishing her braid. More interested in her new style than Megumi, Nobara grabbed the end of the tail and fished her phone out to take a picture. You laughed at how easy it was to appease her while Megumi merely shook his head at her attention span.

The sudden commotion between you three caught Maki’s attention and she set her book aside. 

“Oi, we know you’re bored too, Fushiguro,” Maki said, a teasing edge to her voice. The corners of Megumi’s lips quirked downward. He shut his book and looked up to pay attention to what his senior had to say. “That’s why you aren’t in your room right now and you’re sitting with us out here. Just admit it.”

“It was getting stuffy at the dorms,” was his quick reply.

At this, you and the others raised an eyebrow at him. Even Inumaki peeled himself off the comfort of Panda’s fur to get a good look. He said it too fast, like he had it rehearsed in the back of his mind if anyone asked.

“Lies,” Maki leaned in closer and inspected his face for any tells. She cackled when he broke eye contact and then turned to the rest of the group. “You know what? We should do something together instead of spending the afternoon here.”

Inumaki raised a hand in the air. “Tuna mayo.”

“Exactly,” Maki agreed, nodding her head. She stood up on her feet and pointed a finger at Megumi. “I think the last time we spent the day together as a group was—”

“Never!” Panda finished, excited as to where this conversation was leading.

Maki hit her fist into the palm of her other hand and smirked. The other upperclassmen got up to their feet and stretched their bodies to get ready for an outing. Nobara, the catalyst of all this, held a fist up into the air as she beamed, victory written all over her face.

“Tokyo day trip!” she cheered. Yuuji joined her side and started to mimic the comical poses she was making. “And here I thought we’d never get the chance to explore the city!”

Maki chuckled and made her way towards you, offering a hand to help you up. You took it without hesitation. An outing together would be a nice change in pace. After all, you could barely remember the last time you hung out with everyone. 

“Then,” she hooked her arm around your neck and snapped her fingers at Megumi, “let’s get ready to enjoy Tokyo!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

After getting changed out of the Jujutsu High uniforms and into more fashionable summer attire, you and the rest of the gang made it to the heart of Tokyo on a short bus ride away from the suburbs. The city was packed. It seemed as if everyone was out and about today, the streets busy with locals and tourists alike.

The impromptu day trip started off on a high note. With summer came the sales, and Nobara was keen on hitting every shop to see what they had to offer. She dragged you and Maki with her to multiple boutiques to try on matching outfits and find certain pieces for her wardrobe. She wasn’t shy at all when it came to shopping. 

Meanwhile, as you and the girls shopped for clothes, the guys stuck nearby, either buying food from street stands or going into a different store to look around as they waited. They had significantly less bags on hand, but kept themselves busy with their snacks and drinks.

A bit tired from shopping nonstop, you decided to leave the boutique and join the guys outside after browsing the racks. Nobara was already paying and Maki was right behind her, so you made a quiet getaway.

When you left, you found Yuuji outside, holding onto a crepe decked out with numerous sliced fruits and a nice mountain of whipped cream. Panda, Megumi, and Inumaki were nowhere in sight.

“Itadori, where are the rest of the guys?” you asked, sitting down next to him on the bench. 

“Went to grab some drinks over there,” he pointed at the tea shop a couple stores down. “Fushiguro said it was getting too hot and he needed something to cool himself down.”

At his explanation, you nodded. Even though today was a lot cooler than others, the mix of asphalt and crowds caused the temperature to rise. A short  break was definitely needed. 

Conversation with Yuuji continue with him blabbering excitedly about dinner with the group. As he spoke, you eyed the crepe in his hands. It was meticulously decorated with glazed fruits, a mountain of cream, and cookie sticks jutting out at all angles, looking almost too pretty to eat. 

“Do you have a sweet tooth?” you asked, interrupting him. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“Kinda!” Yuuji scratched the back of his head with his freehand and grinned sheepishly.  “To be honest, the main reason why I got this was because the guy working the stand was so awesome.” He did a few action poses and chopped a hand into the air. “He was cutting and flipping the fruits into the cone like a ninja!”

Noticing your gaze focused on his crepe, he grabbed a small biscuit from the top and offered it to you. Surprised, you took it and thanked him as you bit into it. 

“Do you like sweets?” he asked this time, grabbing a biscuit for himself and chomping on it. “We can share this if you want!”

Before you got the chance to answer, Nobara and Maki promptly left the boutique and joined you two. Nobara let out a sigh of exhaustion as she fanned her face with her hand and plopped down beside you. In contrast, Maki scanned the area for the others.

“Itadori, the others—”

A cup of milk tea was held in front of Maki’s face, interrupting her question.

“Here,” Megumi said, holding up a drink carrier with several other cups. Inumaki stood beside him holding onto an extra drink of his own. He handed it off to you and you graciously took it. “We got drinks for everyone.”

“Wow, look at you guys!” Nobara applauded them. “Keep this up and you’ll be sure to find a date soon!”

Megumi momentarily scowled while Inumaki held up a peace sign. You took a sip from your drink and instantly found yourself relaxing into the seat. This moment of rest was definitely needed after walking around nonstop. Nobara and Yuuji seemed to think the same, a blissful expression painted on their faces as they enjoyed their treats.

“Where’s Panda?” Maki asked as she took a sip of her drink. Megumi’s face twisted in confusion.

“He’s right”—he turned around and was met with an empty space—“Panda?”

“Salmon!” Inumaki exclaimed, pointing further down the sidewalk.

In the direction Inumaki pointed towards, a giant crowd of tourists and locals alike were surrounding Panda. Hoards of people were trying to get a picture with him, mistaking him for a random street mascot. Cameras were shoved in his face and children cried to pet his fur which left him in a state of distress.

“Oi, Panda!” Maki yelled out. “Let’s go!”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he was more focused on the many phones being shoved in his face. Maki sucked on her teeth and set her bags down. She beckoned Inumaki to follow her.

“You four wait here. We’ll get Panda out.” She gave one last glance over her shoulder. “It won’t take too long!”

With that, she and Inumaki dove into the crowd to try and diffuse the situation. The two were pushed aside like rag dolls as they tried to get closer into the circle and shouts of “Wait your turn!” could be heard even from where you were standing. It looked like they were having a difficult time as the crowd only seemed to attract more people.

“Should we help?” you asked while surveying the entire scene. Panda was practically being mobbed at this point. “I think it might take some time for them to get him out.”

Megumi stared at the madness and took a short sip of his drink. “No, we shouldn’t.”

“Might as well sit down and relax until things get settled!” Nobara exclaimed. She let out a sigh of relief and stretched her arms to the sky. “There’s still tons we gotta see before it gets dark and I really—”

Nobara never got to finish what she was saying as Yuuji shushed her. She was about to curse him into the next decade, but Yuuji held a finger to his lips and then pointed at the other side of the street.

All eyes followed in the direction he was pointing towards.

There, standing on the opposite sidewalk, was Gojo. He was donned in casual attire, rocking a pair of jeans, a crisp white t-shirt, and dark sunnies to replace the Jujutsu Tech uniform he typically wore. His phone was pressed to his ear, completely oblivious to you all staring at him as he was more focused on whoever he was talking to.

“It’s Gojo…” Yuuji whispered.

Nobara jumped up from her seat and positioned herself right next to Yuuji. She held a hand above her eyes to block out the sun as she stared at him.

“He looks so out of place,” she said. “Something about him…”

“It’s the hair, right?” Yuuji commented.

“No, not the hair.”

“His clothes?”

“He just sticks out like a sore thumb,” Nobara said. “I don’t even know.”

“I think I get it. It’s like seeing a zoo animal out of its cage,” Yuuji added. He bit into his crepe and swallowed it in one bite. 

Megumi whipped his gaze away from his phone as soon as he heard Yuuji. “Excuse me?”

“You know, like seeing a giraffe walking in the city,” Yuuji elaborated, waving a hand in the air as he explained. “It’s hard to look away!”

Megumi cringed as he imagined a giraffe with a striking resemblance to Gojo. “Gross,” was all he could reply back.

“Shouldn’t we just leave him alone?” you asked, nervously shifting on your feet. Even though you guys were a comfortable distance away from Gojo, it still felt weird to spy on him. “I mean, it’s not like he’s even doing anything interesting…”

“It’s fine!” Nobara waved a hand at you as she kept her eyes trained on him. “He’ll never know!”

You were about to pull them away, but Megumi grabbed your wrist to stop you. He shook his head. 

“Stop trying to rationalize with them,” Megumi sighed out. “All your words will go in through one ear and out the other.”

“What’d you say, Fushiguro?” Nobara asked. She didn’t even look at him when talking. 

“See.”

“Something about this feels wrong,” you mumbled. “And what if he catches us—”

“He’s got a bouquet!” Nobara pointed out, interrupting you. “Looks pretty expensive too!”

At the mention of flowers, you and Megumi slowly inched towards Nobara and Yuuji to get a glance. Curiosity got the better of you two. True to her words, Gojo was holding a nice arrangement in his hands.

“There’s no way anyone sane would date him,” Megumi said, squinting his eyes to see if it was a hallucination. It wasn’t.

“It’s not like he’s bad looking,” you said.

“Yeah, but he’s insufferable.”

He was right about that. Still, you liked to look for the best in people. “True, but maybe there’s someone out there in the world who can look past that.”

Megumi shivered at your words. Poor soul, he thought. 

“I wanna see who that person is,” Nobara said and looked up at you. “Aren’t you interested in his date?”

“...No,” you lied through your teeth.

“Aw, c’mon! Just one look!” Yuuji wiggled his fingers in front of your face as he spoke, his words turning more animated. “What if he’s into cougars? Like a sugar mama.”

“Gojo does not need…” Megumi paused and let out an exasperated sigh. “A sugar mama.”

“You never know, Fushiguro! He might be into that kinda thing!”

“Do you even know what a sugar mama is?”

“I sure do!” Yuuji snapped his fingers at Megumi. “My gramps used to—”

“He’s moving!” Nobara shut the two up and grabbed onto your sleeve. “Let’s go!”

“Kugisaki!” you yelled out at being dragged against your will. Instead of letting go, she locked arms with you.

“You can’t expect me to be stuck with those two dummies for this,” she whispered to you. “Besides, I just wanna see who his date is, it probably won’t take too long. We’ll find out, come back, and after that we’ll go shopping for matching tracksuits!”

At her words, you peered over your shoulder. Megumi and Yuuji were following closely behind you two, still talking about Gojo and his supposed sugar mama preference. Yuuji clapped his hands as he laughed while Megumi spoke in a calm manner; even though he objected earlier to it, Megumi didn’t look like he minded the detour all too much.

“Fine… but we’re getting matching tracksuits right afterwards!”

Nobara grinned and then playfully nudged you with her elbow. You did the same back with a bounce in your steps.

Operation Follow Gojo And Find Out If He’s Really Into Sugar Mamas was a go.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Hours passed and you four were still following Gojo through the city.

What seemed to be mischievous fun slowly morphed into a hellish nightmare. Your feet were throbbing in pain and the summer heat heavily weighed down on you, causing a light layer of sweat to coat your body. After an hour of tailing him, seeing Gojo’s date became a matter of pride. If you all threw in the towel now then it would have meant a loss of dignity from wasting the day following him.

“How long has it been?” you muttered, trying your best to not groan in exhaustion.

No one answered, too embarrassed to even say the number aloud.

The instigators of the group, Nobara and Yuuji, were the most heartbroken about this lost time. They walked through the city like zombies, their spirits crushed. While Yuuji was crestfallen, Nobara had a dark aura surrounding her body. You and Megumi maintained a safe distance from her.

The thing about Tokyo was that it was a large city. A metropolis with twists and turns and buildings stacked up right next to each other like rows of dominos; it had attractions built up into the sky and malls dug underground. You could walk around Tokyo for an entire day and still not cover a quarter of it. 

And yet, you were sure you explored the city twice over when tailing Gojo

He used every single back alleyway, rounding corner after corner, almost like he was walking around in circles. He would go into random stores and shop around for a bit only to walk out empty handed. Nothing he did in those few hours of surveillance made sense.

With the sun starting to set, all your motivation sank along with the light. Following Gojo really was the biggest waste of time you had ever indulged in. You checked your phone and saw Maki’s text about going back to the dorms with Inumaki and Panda. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Maybe we should give up,” you said. “Maki and the others already went back to Jujutsu Tech.”

Megumi, the only other one with a rational head on his shoulders, agreed with you. He stood up and rubbed the back of his neck to alleviate the built up tension. “If we leave now we can grab dinner here and then make it back on the last bus.”

Nobara and Yuuji seemed to be fighting an internal battle within themselves. Dinner in Tokyo would be a hell of a lot better than the food at Jujutsu Tech… but at the same time, what if Gojo met up with his date right as you all left? Both tightened their fists at the prospect.

Then a miracle happened. 

(Or so you thought.)

Yuuji was the first to notice. From the corner of his eye, he saw another figure approaching Gojo. He quickly hid himself behind a parked taxi, grabbing onto Megumi’s sleeve to avoid being seen. Nobara did the exact same with you. All four of you had your heads stacked upon one another while monitoring the situation: Yuuji at the bottom, Nobara, you, Megumi at the top.

Tall, blond, and well dressed, Gojo’s date approached him with an apathetic expression. Lips turned downward and brows furrowed together, his date was less than impressed. This didn’t faze him in the slightest. Gojo slid down his sunglasses and winked at his date, turning the charm meter up a notch.

Nobara let out a gasp while the rest of the group held their breath.

“They’re gay!” Nobara screamed, pointing towards Gojo and Nanami. 

Her sudden outburst garnered a few stares and the accused turned towards your direction. Gojo snickered into his hand while Nanami raised an eyebrow.

“Gay?” Nanami repeated, unamused. He turned his attention back at Gojo. “Explain.”

“I brought the kids along with me too,” Gojo jabbed his thumb over his shoulder at where you and the rest of the gang stood. “Hope you don’t mind.”

Upon hearing this, you deflated completely. The entire time following him was a complete waste. Gojo played you all like a puppet on a string.

“He knew…” Megumi muttered as he covered half of his face with his hand in shame. “He knew we were following him this whole time.”

Gojo practically skipped to where you all were standing, smiling like a cheshire cat. Upon seeing the dejected look on your faces, he let out a laugh, one loud enough to warrant people to look his way as he slapped a hand to his knee.

“This is a lesson,” Gojo began once he caught his breath. “Don’t stalk people in the city.”

“We weren’t stalking you!” Nobara and Yuuji objected at the same time. 

“Then what were you four doing?”

You all kept quiet, unable to answer his question. Because truthfully, you guys were stalking Gojo to get a peek at his “date” which turned out to be a giant ruse. Gojo merely cackled at the silence.

“That’s what I thought. Anyway,” he motioned a hand towards Nanami and looked over his shoulder. “Nanami, take care of the kids for a second.”

“Excuse me?” Nanami couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Is this what you called me here for?”

Again, Gojo laughed. Seems like he was going to screw over Nanami as well.

“Yup!” He waved and blew a kiss in the most grandiose manner. “I’ll see you guys in a little bit! Don’t go causing too much trouble for Nanami!”

Right after finishing what he wanted to say, Gojo disappeared in the next second, blending in with the city crowd. You blinked at how easy it was for him to fly off your radar. The others thought the same, keeping quiet.

Tokyo was a complete bust.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

EXTRA:

“See! The sushi comes to you on little bullet trains, Kugisaki!” Yuuji cheered as three plates of salmon nigiri arrived at the booth. He couldn’t stop grinning as he marveled the miniature replica. “Let’s make another order!”

After getting caught red handed and toyed with for the majority of the day by Gojo, he decided to treat you and the rest of the first years to a nearby kaiten sushi restaurant as a peace offering. Not because he felt bad, but rather he didn’t feel like going back to Jujutsu High so soon. You all accepted for the free meal and a ride back to the dorms.

Inside the cramped booth, Nobara and Yuuji were talking over one another while eating, trying to show off their Tokyo knowledge through random trivia found online. Megumi, the most mentally mature of the bunch, spoke up to correct them every now and then, earning either the stink eye from Nobara or finger guns from Yuuji. Their energy was infectious, causing you to laugh along.

With the night nearing its end, you decided to ask the million dollar question. After all, it was the reason why your day in Tokyo was wasted.

“Gojo, what were you doing with those flowers?” you asked as you passed a plate over to him. Since you never got to see his date after his disappearing act, you were curious with what he did with the bouquet.

Instead of stuffing the sushi into his mouth, Gojo set his chopsticks down for a second and paused. In a comedic manner, he closed his eyes and rubbed his chin, seemingly in deep thought.

“Ah, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you,” he said as he clicked his tongue and snatched the nigiri with his chopsticks. “I was giving them to a friend of mine. It’s been a while since I last saw him, so I decided to do something special.”

“A friend?” It was hard to imagine him with friends. He seemed to drive everyone within a five foot radius up the wall. “Really?”

“Yep,” Gojo replied. He popped another tuna nigiri into his mouth and savored the flavor for a moment before finishing what he had to say. “Flowers are a nice gift, right?”

“I think they are,” you answered truthfully. “Did he like them?”

He smiled. And it wasn’t one of his usual fake asshole smiles he did whenever he beat you guys to the dirt during a spar session, but rather a genuine one. A rarity. “I think he did. He better because that bouquet was expensive.”

“Maybe next time you should invite him with you,” you motioned to the entirety of the table, “to this.”

Gojo chuckled as he watched you all get along. Nobara had Yuuji in a chokehold while Megumi watched from the other side of the table with a stone cold visage. The corners of his lips threatened to twitch upward.

“I think he’d like that.”

[uglymanchronicles]

Ugly Man Chronicles Reignition Book 2 Chapter 2: My Breakfast With Evan

Just a couple dudes getting to know each other.

“If you must know,” Evan sighed, spearing a glistening sausage on the end of a flimsy plastic fork, “my jackass older sister thought it would be hilarious to give me a cupcake she'd baked with about a dozen powdered viagra for my fifteenth birthday. I wound up passing out eventually. Burst a lot of blood vessels. Damaged the erectile tissue beyond usefulness.”

Titus froze mid-coffee-sip. “Seriously? What a bitch!”

“Buddy, you don't know the half of it.”

“So... no signs of life down there?”

“Nothing for twelve years.”

“I think I would literally kill myself.”

“It's not so bad, I guess. At least I don't have to drain the blood out of it any more.”

“Eugh! Fuck! Did not need to hear that!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answer to.”

“Do you get, like, blue balls all the time, then?”

“That's basically my ground state of being.”

Titus whistled flatly, avoiding looking Evan in the eye. He settled for staring at the table. There wasn't a lot of Evan's face that he felt comfortable looking at; every part seemed to at least be adjacent to some unpleasantry or another. About the only safe area was his right eye, which, as luck would have it, was directly opposite Titus's 'good' eye. Titus rallied and met Evan's gaze again. “Alright, your turn.”

They'd agreed on a sort of mutual interview process, taking turns asking questions to suss out what the other was capable or if he was worth having around. Evan took a bite out of the sausage and chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

“Who's Moreno?”

Titus hissed through his teeth. “A real piece of shit.”

“I'm going to need more than that.”

“I'm getting to it. He's basically, like... a freelance henchman? Like, sort of a mercenary criminal. Sells his services to the highest bidder.”

“And why's he matter?”

“That's another question.”

“No, it is not,” Evan said, quiet and serious. “Do not argue with me in bad faith, Titus. I have very little patience for it in the best of times.”

Titus regarded him for a long moment. The man across from him was wider than the table they sat at. His muscles were so pronounced in some points that Titus could tell when he was about to move by the way they bulged and contracted. Yet he gave the impression that he was constantly trying to pull himself inward, to make himself smaller. He spoke quietly and with a simple formality, but only hours before Titus had watched him single-handedly beat down some of the nastiest people he'd met in the past month.

Hmm.

“Fine. Moreno matters because I'm after the guy he's working for. You see, Moreno isn't just a normal scumbag. He works for people who need nasty things done. Not like regular nasty, either. How much do you actually know about magic?”

“I've got some... notes. So far I'm not able to find a lot of coherent rules. It mostly seems like it relies on things that nobody would normally do.”

Titus snapped his fingers and pointed at Evan. “Hit it right on the head. Rituals, reagents, that kind of thing... the reason—well, one of the reasons—magic doesn't just happen all the time by accident is that it's all weird little things. A lot of the more heavy magic relies on some pretty elaborate and obtuse shit to get it going.”

Evan momentarily thought back to the Book of Fate and his ritual in the woods. “So Moreno does these things for people?”

“Yeah. Thing is, though...” Titus stopped raising a forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth and set it down again, as if he'd momentarily lost his appetite. “The people who use his services generally practice some pretty vile magic. Real depraved shit. And to empower depraved magic, you need depraved rituals. Moreno is the guy you go to when...”

“I think I get it,” Evan interjected, since Titus seemed to be struggling with deciding whether to continue. “Your turn.”

Titus tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, then looked Evan in the eye. “How smart are you?”

The scars on Evan's face squirmed around as he actually smirked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Hey, we agreed no 'whys'.”

“Alright, alright. Well, there's really no objective metric for it, but... I have Master's degrees in computer science and theoretical physics, Bachelor's in those in addition to mathematics and electrical engineering, and associate's degrees and certificates in everything from EMT training to ballet. I should have my doctorate in physics, but...” he said, with a bitterness that Titus made a note of, then changed gears. “Oh, and I also speak Mandarin, Spanish, Japanese, French, and Arabic pretty fluently. I also know ASL. I can get by in German and Russian, too. I don't know if any of that is what you meant but--”

“Jesus, I get it,” Titus muttered, rubbing the side of his head. “How the fuck do you make money?”

“Software consulting, mostly. I specialize in security and processing efficiency. People pay me to break into their systems and then patch the holes, or to make their code run quicker or make their programs smaller. I've got a few patents I've licensed that bring in most of my income nowadays, though.”

“Anything I would have heard of?”

“If you've used a computer made in the last four years it probably has something I wrote integrated somewhere into it. I also helped develop a protein-sequencing program that helped develop a vaccine for this nasty SARS variant that broke out in China last year. They say if they hadn’t nipped it in the bud it could’ve spread worldwide and we’d be looking at millions of deaths by now.”

Titus scrunched up his face. “Oh yeah, just say that like it’s no big deal.”

“I’m just glad it turned out not to be one. What I'd really like to do is get my compression algorithm out there, but if I do that, somebody's going to try to hoard it all for themselves.”

“Are you talking to yourself or me?”

“Look, I... a few years ago I figured out a way to compress memory down by a exponential factor of six with zero loss. All it takes is a couple software plugins that don't take up much room themselves. Essentially, I could make a gigabyte fit in a kilobyte with very little trouble, now that the math's figured out.”

“Holy fuck, that's insane! Why haven't I heard anything about this?”

“Mainly because I don't tell people. If I put it up on the market, some ISP would buy it and bury it. If you make information smaller, you make it faster. Can you imagine what it'd do to internet access if dial-up and barebones cellular networks suddenly had the bandwidth of fiber optics? It would... maybe not revolutionize our society, but it would level a lot of playing fields. Bring a lot of underdeveloped areas of the world—hell, this country—up to modern levels with no extra cost. The telecomms would crash and burn so hard. But I don't have the means to get it out there without going through someone else. Yet,” Evan added. “So I basically work watered-down versions of the compressor into the software I make. Nothing that can be duplicated, and nowhere near its full potential, but enough to get me hailed as some kind of genius and pay the bills.”

“So why aren't you on your own private island or something somewhere instead of puttering around God's Ashtray in a shitty old Bug?”

“Hey, the Beetle is not shitty,” Evan said, defensively. “And I'm just waiting for the AC in my RV to get fixed or I'd be driving that.”

“Oh hot damn! Now that's the way to live!”

“Not the one I'd choose voluntarily, but it could be worse.”

“How come you're doing it, then?”

“I think it's my turn to ask,” Evan said, mildly.

“Fine,” Titus said grumpily, crossing his arms.

“How do you make money?”

“That's easy. I'm basically a freelance bailbondsman. I just roam around, drop my advertising around bars and courthouses.”

“You get many clients that way?” Evan asked, cocking his remaining eyebrow.

“Oh, you'd be amazed how desperate people can get,” Titus said, shrugging. “Of course, they're usually not the most responsible people, so when they bounce, I track 'em down myself, drag ‘em back to jail, get the money back. My eye usually makes it super easy. Sometimes they don't even see me before I get the cuffs on 'em.”

“Why did you feel the need to rob a bunch of drug dealers, then? The thrill of it?”

“I had a pressing need for a large amount of cash that my normal work doesn't bring in. That got me enough to hold it off for a while. My turn.”

Evan waved down a waitress for a refill of his coffee, trying not to take it personally when she gasped upon seeing his face. “Go ahead…”

“No, no, hang on.” Titus waved a hand dismissively. “I want to try something. Take your hair out of the ponytail.”

“What? Why?”

“Humor me.”

Evan groaned and reached back, removing his hair tie. After shaking his head, his hair fell over his face, obscuring everything but his nose and mouth. Titus pursed his lips and regarded him seriously for a moment.

“Can you see?”

“Yeah, I guess. Well enough to not walk into things, I think, and I could probably read if I had to.”

Titus snapped his fingers. “Good. Go with that from now on.”

“Why?”

“Because now you don’t look like God’s mistake. Now you look like a big, dumb-but-lovable goon. Like Jack Black would voice you in a cartoon.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Do you like seeing people contemplating their own mortality and the general cruel absurdity of the tragic farce that is human existence when they get a glimpse of your face?”

Evan felt his cheeks burn and was actually grateful his hair was covering most of his face. “…not particularly, no.”

“Then there you go. You’re welcome. Okay, question time. Uh… how did you get your powers?”

“Which one?”

“Oh, now who’s arguing in bad faith? Fucking all of them, you thick-lipped gargoyle.”

Evan had the feeling he hit a sore spot. Titus's easy-going, jocular tone had bled away from him, leaving behind the hard-edged razor-blade of a man that had ambushed him the night before. He decided not to belabor the point.

“I don't know why I can rege—why I heal so quickly. No, I'm serious, as far as I know, it just started happening sometime in the past few months. I can't remember. Don't look at me like that, I'll get to that in a minute. When I was younger I recovered from a lot of injuries a lot quicker than the doctors thought I would, so maybe it's something I was born with and it just got stronger recently for some reason.”

Evan took a sip of coffee, mainly to buy a few seconds to think of how much to explain for the next part.

“The ability to shut off powers... that's part of, well, I guess you'd call it a magic ritual, because I don't know what else to call it. I found a weird old book that said it contained the key to making someone an instrument of universal justice, or something of the sort. Since then I can see... I guess they're souls? Maybe? I can sort of move mine and when I run it into someone else's it seems like I can shut off their powers. Or... take them entirely, if they're dying.”

“Horseshit!” Titus scoffed. “That's... that's like meta-magic. I don't even know if that's real.”

“No, seriously! I don't think it's just magic powers, I think it... 'normalizes' things.” He briefly recounted his encounter with the pain monster.

“Are you kidding me? That...” Titus took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, exhaling slowly and loudly. “Look, I don't know much, but the fact that you even ran into something like that, let alone survived... those odds are astronomical. And you say you negated not just its powers, but its whole form?”

“Yeah. Once I... reached into it, like I did with you—oh don't make that face. Grow up—I kind of disrupted what made it... different, I guess? Like I cut it off from its special qualities. Like it was...”

“Disjuncted,” Titus cut in.

“Yeah, that's a good word for it. Like the old Mordenkainen spell?”

“Fucking nerd.”

“Eat my ass. Anyway, after I killed it, I was able to reach into its... soul? Animating force? Aura? I don't know what to call it. I was able to grab something and pull it out and it just got pulled into me.”

“Not aura.”

“What?”

“Aura's a different thing,” Titus said, dismissively. “So what did you get from doing that?”

“I.. I feel pain differently. I don't flinch or get adrenaline rushes from injuries that don't actually impede my ability to function. I think I have a better sense of what is actually dangerous to my body now. It still hurts, but I don't react to pain like people normally do. It's like...hmm.” Evan drummed his fingers on the table. “Do you know anything about video games? Fighting games, specifically?”

“I used to fuck around on an old Alpha 3rd Strike cabinet when I was a kid. Why?”

“Do you know what 'super armor' is?”

“Isn't that where a move can't get stopped by being hit when you're doing it?”

“Right. I'm kind of like that now. Pain doesn't interrupt me.”

“Fucking nerd.”

Evan's fist involuntarily clenched. “I'm trying to put this in terms you can understand, you stupid reprobate. My experience with your judgment thus far hasn't given me much faith in your intellect.”

Titus burst out laughing. “So he does know how to banter! I thought you might be one of those Rainman types.”

“Oh sure, call it 'banter' to try to excuse the fact that you've been insulting me for the past half hour. Do you say you're ‘just joking’ when people get mad at you for saying stupid shit, too?”

“C'mon, lighten up! We're partners now! Tell me more about this soul thing. I still think you're full of shit.”

Evan sighed through his nose, then held up his left hand, forming his fingers into a circle and peering through them.

“Yours is... a sort of cross between a sea green and an oil slick. The tendrils of it keep reaching out and snapping back, going all over the place. It seems to keep expanding and contracting. It's almost flickering, like... it's indecisive. Very chaotic. The tendrils that aren't snapping around seem to be kept pretty close to your body, wrapping around you like... I can't tell if it's protective or restrictive.”

Titus's expression slowly became serious. “What does that mean?”

“I don't know. I have a lot of theories, but nothing solid to go on. I'm not sure if it's allegorical or a literal representation of a person's... power, maybe? Yours definitely looks a lot different than most people's.”

“I don't believe this for a second. Let me see.”

“How would I do tha—hey!”

Titus grabbed Evan's wrist and held his hand up to his eye. “Ho-lee...”

He pulled back from Evan's hand, staring at him. Then he looked around the room, mouth slack as he took in the diner's other occupants.

“Huh. Did you know it keeps working until you blink?” He said after a moment, a faraway tone to his voice.

“I didn't even know other people could do it,” Evan said, awe in his voice. “Hey, wow, you're right!”

“Jesus, yours is, like, really blue. It looks like... a bunch of steel cables. It's weird, I felt like I both could and couldn't see the edges of it...”

“I can kind of move it, but I'm not sure if I can do anything with it beyond interfering with people's powers. It's like learning to use a muscle you didn't know you had.”

“Huh.” Titus was again silent for a long moment. “Your turn.”

“Can you do anything else supernatural? Besides your time-eye?”

“Don't call it that, it sounds stupid. And... sorta. I seem to have whatever innate talent you need to actually do magic, but it's not like it's easy to find instructions. Most of the people I know who can use it just dabble with half-broken magic items—wands, amulets, charms,” he pulled the silence charm out from under his coat and bounced it at the end of its chain. “I guess I'm sort of a dabbler. I know a few tricks, I can use a lot of magic tools, I can sense magic pretty well, I can dowse... Most of the time I really never have to use anything besides the eye, though.”

“Is the eye all-or-nothing?”

“Yeah. It's not nearly as useful as you'd think, but any edge is an edge.”

“When I turned off your power and it was coming back, though, you started speeding up—or, I guess, everything else was slowing down? You were moving faster, one way or the other. You were able to touch me, and those punches hurt.”

“Huh, yeah, you're right.”

“Do you think there's a way you could learn to only partially activate it?”

“That'd be great, wouldn't it? Thing is, just using it is a huge strain, and that time spend outside of time adds up. Going by normal calendar time I'm only 26.”

“Fuck, I'm 27!” Evan laughed.

“Yeah, well, I'd rather be prematurely gray than what you've got going on. My turn. Uh... huh, I can't really think of anything else. Uh... are you gay?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“No, but the question still counts.”

“I'm bi,” Evan mumbled, crossing his arms across his prodigious chest. “Not that it matters. And before you ask, no, you are not my type. We're done talking about this.”

“Huh. You ever sucked--”

“We. Are. Done. Talking about this.”

“Fine, God. Go.”

Evan mentally circled back to an earlier question he felt hadn't been properly answered. “Why are you after Moreno?”

To Evan's surprise, Titus didn't hesitate. “I'm actually after his current boss. He's just the best lead I have to go on.” He took a deep breath, then started talking with a rushed, deadpan pace, as if he was eager to get the words out as quickly as possible so they wouldn't be in his mouth very long.

“Moreno is working for a guy only known as the Soultaker. He has an innate supernatural ability to pull a person's soul out of their body. When that happens, the person just... shuts down, usually. No motive force behind them. Eventually they just die of dehydration, usually. I've seen some people so set in routine that they keep going without a soul, but... it's not really life.

“It seems like the extraction process takes a while, so he can't just walk past you on the street and pickpocket your entire essence. So he needs people rounded up for him, held until he can do his nasty juju. So that's where a degenerate like Moreno comes in.

“So when he pulls out a soul, it, well, it looks like this.”

Titus pulled a battered, faded Crown Royale bag out of his jacket. It bulged strangely and made a quiet clacking when he set it on the table. He pulled out what looked like a large marble, or maybe a dull pearl, and handed it to Evan.

Evan brushed his hair out of his eyes and peered into the milky depths of the sphere. After a few moments of staring, the murky clouds inside the thing seemed to clear and a face floated to the surface. A black man, maybe in his late 40s, going thin on top. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be sleeping, but his expression had a look of discomfort to it, as if he was having a bad dream.

“Jesus Christ,” Evan whispered, “I've seen this guy... Martell Calloway? I saw some news article about how his family found him tied up in his apartment and completely comatose! But he didn't have any injuries beyond being a black eye... so he's dead?”

“Life support,” Titus said, taking Mr. Calloway's soul back from Evan's unresisting fingers, “technically, he's one of the lucky ones. They found his body before it wasted away to nothing, and I was able to intercept his soul before it got to a buyer.”

“Why would someone buy something like this? What use is it? Can you fix him?”

“A human soul is a damn near exhaustible arcane battery,” Titus said gravely. In the split second between sentences, Evan noticed something—after he'd put the bag back into his jacket, Titus surreptitiously touched a pocket on the other side of his jacket, as if he was making sure something was still there.

“If you know what you're doing, you can power a lot of magic using a soul. And you can reuse them as long as you don't overdo it. If you know what you're doing, you can wring all but the last drops of essence out of a soul and let it heal or recover or whatever, and it'll eventually be back to full strength. Very resilient things,” Titus continued. “I don't think they're conscious in there, but... anyway, it's supposed to be really hard to extract a soul. But this guy was born with or spontaneously developed or somehow figured out a shortcut to the whole process. So the market is getting flooded with torture-batteries and ECUs are getting flooded with vegetables. And families are winding up with loved ones who are as good as dead, without having any idea why this happened to them. Dozens of them have been taken off life support in the past few months. Half these souls have no body to return to. And no, I can't fix it. At least not yet,” he sighed again. “I was hoping once I found him, I could somehow get the secret out of him or force him to put them back, or... maybe I thought if I killed him it'd reverse the effect. He needs killing, either way.”

Titus's eye widened as a thought struck him and he looked Evan in the eye for the first time since he'd started the story. Evan realized what he was thinking and looked down at the tattoo on his left arm, flexing his fingers.

“If you can take people's powers after they die...”

“...then we can save these people.”

Titus put a hand over his mouth and for a moment Evan thought he saw his eye well up.

“I'm in,” Evan said, a sense of righteous purpose welling in his heart. “I don't really know what the universe wants, but I doubt... I know it's not this. We'll find him, we'll stop him, and we'll save as many of these people as we can.”

“...thanks,” Titus mumbled behind his hand. He swallowed hard, then seemed to come back to himself. “We're back to square one, though.”

“You said you could dowse? Like, for real?”

“Yes, for real. I can find things and people with the pendulum method. It's handy for tracking down bounties.”

“Why don't you dowse Moreno?”

“Why didn't I think of that?!” Titus said incredulously, smacking his forehead. “Because he's warded. He's not magic himself, but he's collected enough gear through his career that my normal methods don't work.”

Evan rubbed his chin. “What if we used an abnormal method?”

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

An hour later, they were in the RV. Titus was poring over the collection of Evan's notes and the strange papers he'd bought from Delmann's shop. Evan was very carefully slicing a strip of skin from his own ankle up all the way up his leg. The Guiding Light—the Finder's Follysat on the table between them, filled with fresh blood.

“Even if this works, he's going to know we're coming,” Titus muttered, engrossed in the pages. “Remember what I said?”

“That's why we're not going to look for him,” Evan said, adjusting his grip on the potato peeler. “I don't know how we'd even write his name. Can you read that, by the way?”

“Kind of. This is... most of this is written in, like, arcane pidgin. Who compiled these notes?”

“I did, I think.”

“You think?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to clarify on that. Apparently a couple months ago, before the ritual, I drilled a hole in my own brain to erase some kind of very dangerous memory.”

“You what.”

“That's not a metaphor or anything. Really did it. I could show you the video.”

“I'll pass. So you don't remember where this came from?” Titus shook the Book of Fate at him.

“Nope.”

“Jesus shit, do you have any idea--”

“How reckless that was? Yeah, yeah, I'm still here and I'm the answer to your fuckin' prayers, aren't I?” Evan gave a whoop as the peeling skin reached his thigh. “Got it this time!” he said cheerfully, snipping the flesh-ribbon off with scissors.

“God, that's so fucking gross. Anyway, you haven't explained how we're going to use that thing to find Moreno.”

“We don't set it to look for him. We look for somewhere he's been. Maybe the last place he slept. Do you think you can describe him well enough in that language for it to work?”

Titus looked like he might actually be impressed, but he hid it well. “Yeah, probably.”

“Good. I've got a dictionary I've put together on that tablet next to you, but I'm not sure how accurate it is. Maybe it'll help?”

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

Two hours later, they had it.

Find where a man born between the 27th and 28th north parallels during a new moon under the sign of capricorn with black hair and green eyes who has killed at least 10 people slept in the past week.

They really had to squeeze the letters in, but when Evan put a flame to the wick, it sprung to life, wavered for a moment, and then pointed east. Both men cheered. Evan threw Titus the keys.

“Drive! Drive north until I tell you otherwise!”

While Titus started the engine, Evan spread a map of the United States on the table in front of the lamp, then produced a protractor and a notebook from a drawer. “Okay, you bastard... let's see where you've been hiding...”

It took three days—one spent driving north, one spent driving back to where they'd started, and one spent driving south. While Titus drove, Evan made meticulous notes of the flame's direction, marking angles on the map. Finally he threw the pencil down triumphantly.

“He's in Salt Lake City.”

“Well, that narrows it down a little, I guess. So what, do we just go there and hope this thing points us in the right direction?”

“Too slow,” Evan called, stepping back into what used to be his bedroom and sitting at his computer. “Now I work my magic.”

After parking, Titus walked back to look over Evan's shoulder. The half-dozen monitors on the wall were flickering between rapidly-changing pictures of faces and what appeared to be CCTV footage.

“What is this?”

“This,” Evan said with dramatic pride, “is Blaccat. Facial recognition algorithms that the CIA wishesit had. I actually started working on it years ago before I thought about the implications of it, but I shelved it. I figured since I may be needing to, uh...”

“Be Batman?”

“...yeah...that I should get back to work on it. Right now it's comparing faces to the description you gave me and cycling through every damn security camera in the city looking for it.”

“How illegal is this?”

“Soooooo illegal.”

“Oh, hey, can you get into police department records?”

“Does the Pope shit in the woods?”

“See if you can get into the Las Vegas mugshots from... February 2019. Run your face-recognition thingy there.”

“Alright.... and... is that our boy?”

A handsome Latino man in his early 30s with shoulder-length jet-black hair and piercing green eyes stared at them from over a booking clipboard.

“That's him,” Titus breathed.

“Perfect! Now I just have to feed that into... wow.” Evan made a gesture and a black and white video popped up on the biggest monitor. The man in the mugshot was walking along the street, flanked by a short stocky man in bandanna and a lanky man with the ugliest white-boy dreads Evan had ever seen.

“That's him! Where is that? When is that?”

Evan grinned up at Titus. “That's live. I can track him and put us at the nearest intersection.”

Titus smiled, eye overbright, and began breathing heavily through his nose. “We got him.”

Evan met his eye and nodded. “Let's get him.”

[littlemissnoname13]

About me:

I go by the pseudonym Violet Anne. You can call me Vi or anything that’s easy for you. I don’t mind.

I’m 25 years old and my Preferred pronouns are She/her.

I’m a -☉cancer ☾gemini ↑scorpio and my personality type is infp-t.

I enjoy writing, painting, exploring local coffee shops, art galleries, flea markets and theatre districts. I Hoard books, thrift clothes and drink an obscene amount of coffee.

I took the Myers Briggs personality test twice and I got infp-t both times.

I’m super introverted and shy and large social gatherings, phone calls and asking for an extra packet of ketchup at a restaurant terrify me.

I am Slytherin and very proud about it. I identify the most with Slytherin’s resourcefulness and ambitious trait.

Although, People tell me I tend to give off big Hufflepuff energy. That’s probably because I ABSOLUTELY love Hufflepuffs.) [Opinion 1] [Opinion 2] [Opinion 3] [Opinion 4] [Opinion 5] [Opinion 6] . I guess my secondary house would probably be Hufflepuff. I just don’t think I’m patient enough to be one though.

Ilvermorny House: Thunderbird

My Patronus: Calico Cat

Random Facts

My top 3s

About the blog

First and foremost, People of every country, race or religion are welcome on this blog :)

My blog is a safe space for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any type of queer or questioning people.

I write for the Harry Potter fandom but I write a lot a Draco content.

I write angst, fluff, smut, as well as series

I also reblog my favorite fics (mostly Draco), and random stuff on here.

Friendly reminder: Ik cannon Draco was not a nice person but I will not tolerate any Draco Slander on this blog. Soz. I mean if you don’t like him, wtf are you doing on a blog that writes for Draco 90% of the time?

Basic Housekeeping and My Boundaries:

Index:

Nsfw Stories

Why I no longer use a tag list

What I read/ reblog

Request Guidelines

Your interaction with me beyond fics

My preferred method of communication

NSFW stories

First thing’s first, I make it a point to add disclaimers, warnings before each and every one of my stories. Please make sure you go through the warnings I have provided before reading my work.

I want my blog to be a safe space for everyone including myself so please take the time to go through my rules. I have divided them into three sections: minors, minor mutuals and 18+ mutuals

18+ readers and mutuals:

I don’t mind if you interact with my posts, or me as long as you don’t sexualise yourself or me in the process.

Please note that all characters are aged up to be above 18, all acts are consensual and there is a safe word in place at all given times.

Minors:

As an adult, it my responsibility to discourage minors from reading the 18+ fics that I write because I always write them with a mature audience in mind.

However, I am not responsible for your media consumption and I cannot keep track of everyone that reads or interacts with my stories.

so in short, if you happen to read my fics anyway (despite my many disclaimers), Please note that all characters are aged up to be above 18, all acts are consensual and there is a safe word in place at all given times.

With that said, Please also do not take any nsfw story I write as sex education in any way or form. My work is purely fiction and I am not here to educate you on that topic.

Please also ensure to not sexualise yourself or me if you happen to interact with my nsfw stories.

Minor Mutuals:

If you are under 18 but a fellow mutual who writes smut/or fanfic, I don’t mind if you interact with and/or reblog my fics.

Same rules apply though, please make sure you are comfortable and don’t sexualise yourself of me in the process.

If you write smut, you probably already know this. But it’s my duty as an adult to remind you that my nsfw stories aren’t substitutes for sex Ed.

Why I no longer have a tag list:

I used to have a tag list form and I would tag people that signed up on my stories before. After using it for months, it came to my attention at a lot of the people I was tagging under my nsfw stories were minors. And it made me feel all sorts of horrible.

Because I do not have the time to go through every account for age (some of y’all don’t even have your ages stated on your bio) I have suspended my tag list completely because I absolutely do not want to tag any minors on any of my NSFW fics.

What I Read/Reblog

I only read/reblog/ interact with smut written by 18+ writers or close mutuals that have their blog guidelines and boundaries regarding who can/cannot read their stories clearly mentioned on their respective blog.

I used to consume almost every post under the Draco hashtag before I started writing on this blog and it came to my attention that some of them were written by minors so yeah.

I usually reblog smut with little to no commentary with #nsfw vii

Please note that I do not reblog smut written by 18+ only/ Minors DNI accounts because I can’t keep track of who interacts with my reblogs and I wouldn’t want to stress the writers out

I do not have a specific rule for reading or reblogging fluff or angst that are sfw. However, please lmk if my interacting or recommending those makes you uncomfortable in any way or from

Request Guidelines

When requesting, please try and be a wee bit specific if you can. It makes the writing process a whole lot easier

I may or may not add additional elements to your requests for the sake of creating a plot

I won’t be taking any smut requests from minors because writing it would make me uncomfortable

You can still request angst or fluff.

If I’ve accepted your request, you can find it under my work in progress list here.

Please be patient with me while I write through your requests. I don’t write when I am not inspired because I don’t want to post half hearted content.

Your interaction with me beyond fics

Please remember that I’m a 25 year old adult who has a life outside of tumblr too.

Please feel free to reach out and let me know if my disclaimers and warnings aren’t sufficient

Please please also let me know if anything I do, say, write makes you uncomfortable in any way or from so I can correct the error of my ways.

I will not be talking to anybody personally (I.e. direct messages, asks) about anything nsfw or inappropriate on here because that would make me super uncomfortable

I am very private, and reserved so anything nsfw beyond fics would make me uncomfortable as hell so please be weary of that.

All nsfw content I post is restricted to fictional characters only.

Minor Boundaries

A friendly reminder to keep every single interaction you have with me 100% appropriate.

Please don’t send me any messages or asks or talk to me about anything nsfw. (This includes anything you shouldn’t and wouldn’t talk to with a 25 year old.) I’d feel very unsafe and uncomfortable and I’ll have to block you

You can talk to me about anything completely sfw

Please let me know if anything I do or say on this blog makes you uncomfortable

Minor Mutual Boundaries

Please let me know if my interactions with your posts make you uncomfortable

Please feel free to send me your boundaries or blog rules if needed and I will keep them in mind

I firmly believe in mutual respect and understanding, so don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you want to discuss your boundaries or my boundaries further

You can still interact with me as you normally did/would about sfw things send asks and talk to me about anything appropriate like books, fics, movies, music, memes, food etc.

Just don’t say things you wouldn’t and shouldn’t say to an adult please.

My preferred way of communication

Unless we’re close mutuals, I prefer communication via asks than dm

Miscellaneous things to help you navigate through my unorganized blog further

Blog tags

#violet being violet / #violet rambling : just me and my most random chaotic thoughts

#violet doodles: rare moments when I share my artwork on here

#violet’s recs/ violet’s fic recs: fics I recommend you to read

#vi’s headcannon recs: self explanatory

#violet calls this a must read : my absolute favorite fics

#violet’s shameless self reblog/ violet’s self reblog: just me reblogging my own shît because Merlin only knows how long I spent on that particular fic

#Nsfw vii:smut reblogs

#Tw Face reveal 🤡: rare occasions where I feel reckless enough to post a face reveal

#18+ vii: anyone under the age of 18, please block this tag. I barely ever use this tag, but this is for anything nsfw beyond fics. Just in case.

#Daily Doze of Draco

#Professor Malfoy 😳🥲: me obsessing over Professor Malfoy

#Healer Draco Supremacy

#CEO Malfoy 😳🤭

Emoji Anons

if you’d like to be an emoji anon, feel free to send me an ask with an emoji of your choice, your pronouns and if you are a minor or not :). Below you will find emojis that are taken

🍁 anon: she/her

🌗 anon: she/her, not minor

Lastly, some Important reminders:

I absolutely do not support JKR or ANYONE that stands with, supports, agrees with or stays quiet about the problematic things she’s said/done.I have 0 tolerance for racism, sexism, ableism, hate speech and outright negativity so please leave my blog and unfollow if you’re into that S#it

I have boundaries, please respect them.

- vi 

[hailbop1701]

25 Days of FicMas

December 17th prompt: Christmas shopping with a stranger (Modern AU)

Word Count: 2,154

Toy Shop Terror

Okay so this one is much lighter and fluffier than yesterday's prompt! They're not really together when shopping but this is what I came up with! I hope y'all like it!

-H❤🖖

Leonard McCoy ran a hand through his hair frantically; he was in the corner of a crowded toy store on Christmas eve looking for the “Harry Potter” section. Leonard marveled at how people were going completely insane over something their child will most likely play with for a week or two. Shaking his head he bobbed and weaved through the mass of angry, hurried customers keeping an eye for the isle he needed. Spotting the large sign Leonard ducked into the aisle to find it torn apart, “oh these poor workers,” he muttered eyes wide. Toys and merchandise lay scattered over the almost barren shelves and littered the floor. Stepping over large cardboard boxes that once held said merchandise Leonard groaned in frustration, “damnit!” he cursed, voice a deep growl. A loud shriek made him quickly lookup; he saw a pretty young woman stumble into the aisle clutching onto a stuffed panda bear like it was a lifeline, “same to you pal!” you shouted flipping off the man that shoved you out of the way. The gesture was reciprocated. Scowling you examined the bear carefully, searching for rips or tears. When you felt it was in okay condition you finally looked up to see him there with an amused expression on his face. “Some people,” you chuckled nervously, waving the bear around. You took note of the shelves Leonard was standing in front of and winced sympathetically. “Oh, Harry Potter that's tough, I’m sorry,” you grimaced at the state of things; Leonard huffed in agreement, “my daughter has been begging for the books for a while and I’ve been looking everywhere for the box set,” he muttered hand going through his already messed up hair again. 

“Well I wish you the best of luck, god knows you’re gonna need it,” you said with a dry laugh. You looked around, clearing your throat you bit your lip, “have uh you seen the electronic section?” Leonard raised an eyebrow and pointed a thumb toward the back of the store, his own look of sympathy crossing his face. “Fuck, okay. Stupid drone is gonna be the death of me. Good luck and may the odds ever be in your favor, wait wrong series…” you trailed off scrunching up your face in thought. Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle at your antics; giving him a cheeky smile you gave him a two-fingered salute and dove back into the crowd.  ‘What a strange woman,’ he thought with a crooked smile.

Sighing Leonard looked back at the barren shelves with slumped shoulders, “Maybe I should look for something else,” he murmured almost missing the sound of his phone ringing. Pulling the object Leonard looked at the caller ID, “I can’t talk now Jim,” he answered pressing a finger to his opposite ear. A faint voice whined from the other end of the call, “no I haven’t found it yet and I honestly don’t think I will. I knew I should have just ordered it off of-no, and no you can’t, that’s-I don’t care. Jim as your best friend I advise you that hitting on my sister is bad for your health," Leonard hung up the call and swiftly inserted himself into the crowd of shoppers. 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

You bit your lip as you precariously balanced on some empty shelves hoping to peek over the throng of people. Your hunt for the drone your nephew had been begging for all year was nowhere to be found. Scanning over the crowd with a deep scowl on your face something caught your eye, a much older looking woman clutched three distinct green boxes to her chest. “Oh not today Brenda,” you growled the image of the cute forlorn father popping into your mind. You smirked at the thought of the guy, ‘I’m allowed. He had no ring…' your mind wandered as you pushed and shoved your way through shoppers. Scooping up an opened ‘Nerf Gun’ you cocked it and fired. The foam bullets bounced off of the woman’s head causing her to turn every which way. She screamed startled when one stuck itself to her coke bottle glasses. While she was distracted you slipped past sneakily grabbing one of the boxes from her stack. “Manager!” you heard her howl, glancing over your shoulder you grinned as no one bothered to give her a second glance. Whistling you tossed the plastic gun into a bin and held the box of books to your chest with the panda bear for your baby niece hanging from your fingers. “Now where is Mr. cute butt at…” you hummed thoughtfully. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the store, McCoy stared at a mass of stuffed animals and to his complete amazement, a pristine box holding a remote control drone sat amongst the bears, unicorns, and oddly enough poop pillows. Blinking he picked up the box, his mind drifting back to you. “Hold on to that tight man, last one!” an employee called to him as he passed. Holding the box closer Leonard eyed the people watching with envy as he walked by, “Alright darlin’ maybe I didn’t get what I came here for but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer,” he drawled searching for you in every aisle. Not looking where he was going he slammed into something small, it squeaked indignantly and he quickly grabbed the person steadying them. “Hey!” you both exclaimed with wide smiles. 

You held up the Harry Potter box set proudly and Leonard practically sagged in relief, “did you-how-” he laughed in shock. You chuckled looking mildly guilty, “don’t ask and you won’t be implicated,” you whispered which made Leonard raise a single eyebrow. Instead of commenting, he held up the drone you were searching for, making you squeal in delight. You bounced on your feet as you exchanged items, “Thank you!” you gasped looking at the drone eyes sparkling, “My nephew is gonna die!” thinking for a second you held out your hand, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” 

Leonard couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he grasped your tiny hand in his much bigger one, “Leonard McCoy, at your service ma’am.” he replied smoothly. Happening to glance over Leonard’s shoulder you spotted the ‘Harry Potter’ hoarder from earlier nerf bullet still stuck to her glasses. Blanching you clutched onto Leonards’s hand tighter before turning around and running off pulling the confused man behind you, “move it McCoy unless you want to give up the books!” you yelped shoving people out of the way. Leonard was suddenly ahead of you now pulling you easily through the hoard of people toward the check out area. You stumbled a few times with him being a bit taller and faster than you, “whoa cowboy!” 

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

“I can’t believe you did that to get this,” Leonard barked out laughing, his shoulders shook as he sat across from you. You snickered munching on a french fry, “she had like three. I did her a favor those books were like a hundred and fifty a pop,” you muttered picking up your soda glass. Leonard smirked, “believe me darlin’ I know,” he huffed with a shake of his head. “Your daughter is lucky to have a dad like you,” you beamed at him picking up another fry from the basket you both were sharing. “I mean not many parents would be in a toy store on Christmas eve,” you said with a smirk. Leonard looked out the window of the little diner you had ducked into. Red tinted his cheeks and the tops of his ears, he shrugged after a minute, “She’s my world, there isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for her,” he said looking back at you. He grabbed a french fry, “You visiting Georgia for the Holidays?” he inquired popping the potato into his mouth. Taking a sip of soda you nodded, “Yeah though not for long. I’ll be moving here pretty soon,” you grinned. “Oh really, where are you comin’ from?” Leonard asked eyes lighting up thrilled at the prospect of you living in Georgia, “Seattle, I’m a paramedic,” you said with a smile. 

The conversation flowed easily; jumping from topic to topic. Leonard talked about how he was a doctor at Atlanta General and then you told him about the adventures from your profession. It would have flowed endlessly but the waitress walked over to your table saying that they were closing up soon; she smiled prettily at Leonard hoping he would take notice but he simply gave her a polite smile and paid for the meal. 

Once the bill was paid and a generous tip was left Leonard helped you into your jacket. He grabbed both your bags and he shot down your protests. Walking to the door you were about to open it when he beat you to it. “And they said chivalry is dead,” you murmured with a crooked smile. “Sweetheart my momma would kill me if I didn’t treat you like a lady,” McCoy flirted as he walked you to your car. "Your mom is a smart woman," you chuckled. You took the shopping bags from Leonard and stowed them away into the trunk of your rental, turning you held out your hand “Lemme see your phone,” you giggled when he gave a confused look. He wordlessly handed it to you and watched as you added your number to his contact information. Taking a picture of yourself you saved it as one of his favorites before giving it back. “There now you can get ahold of me, you know in case you need help getting the Hunger Games or something. Though I don’t think the Brenda's of the world would appreciate it,” you grinned. Leonard snorted a laugh as he pocketed his phone again, “Okay Katniss,” he sassed opening your car door. Your grin grew bigger, “Doctor I am impressed,” you gasped placing a hand over your heart dramatically. McCoy’s laugh echoed across the almost empty parking lot; getting in the car you shut the door and started the engine quickly so you could roll down the window. “Well my girl likes books so I’ve been kept up to date on her latest favorites,” he said leaning down resting his forearm just above the window. “She sounds like an amazing girl,” you whispered with a soft smile, Leonard’s dark hazel eyes twinkled in the street light you were parked under. “She truly is,” he murmured back. The air became thick and full of something you couldn’t place, Leonard cleared his throat leaning back. “You should get going, your family is going to worry,” he sighed not wanting to see you go. Your smile turned sad, “Yeah my brother will have a fit,” you agreed, glaring at the car's dash clock. You said your "Goodbyes" and you were soon on your way back to your brother’s home with a lot of things on your mind; a handsome doctor being one of them. 

The very next day you sat on your bedroom floor with a slew of presents waiting to be wrapped. Grumbling to yourself you struggled and fought with the wrapping paper, “Fold damnit!” you growled, voice muffled by the disposable tape dispenser in between your teeth. Your phone began to vibrate on the floor causing it to skitter in place, cursing you held the paper in place with one hand while the other grabbed the device. “H’lo,” your voice was muffled again. Rolling your eyes at your own stupidity you spat out the tape and tried again, “hello?” there was a deep chuckle from the other end. “(Y/N) it’s Leonard,” you sat up straighter a smile spreading across your face. “Len hey!” you greeted voice light, “I was wondering what your plans are for New Year’s Eve?” Leonard asked sounding nervous. ‘My god he’s adorable,’ you thought dreamily, “I’m not doing much just packing to head back to Seattle so I can then pack again to head back here,” you chuckled and facepalmed due to your ‘lameness,’ 

“I was uh- wonderin’ if you’d like to spend the day with me?” he asked making you scream internally, “Yeah I would love to,” you said hoping to not sound desperate. You heard a whispered voice in the background, “awesome Bones!” it said encouragingly. You bit your lip to keep from snickering. “I- uh that’s great! I’ll message you the details in a little bit!” Leonard said clearly smiling. “Daddy, can you help me with my braid?” the voice of a little girl hit your ear.  ‘That must be Joanna,’ your heart warmed, “I have to go but I’ll talk to you soon,” Leonard promised lowly making you chuckle. “Okay Len, talk to you then,” you set your phone down and took a deep breath. “I think I’m going to really like it here,” you murmured to the butterflies fluttering around in your chest and stomach. 

Tags:

@thottiewithashotgun

@lauraaan182

@writerdee1701

@dw-writes

@marvelouslytrekking

@spenceneedsahug