#didn’t add Nightmare on Christmas because that’s a holiday one and will be worked on around Halloween and Christmas

[miraculousniana]

To my Miraculous readers,

I need some help. I know I have a lot of Miraculous fanfics that need to be finished before I make new ones.

[baronvonkrieger]

A Muppet Christmas Carol, or the Muppets meet the Monster

Dicken’s “Christmas Carol” has been filmed many times for over 100 years. “Scrooge or marley’s Ghost” (1901), a short British film, is the earliest known surviving screen adaptation. Of all these screen adaptations, no doubt the Muppet Version is many peoples favorite version. My personal favorite is the Alistair Sim’s 1951 film, but I greatly enjoy this one, and re-watched it recently.

   As I watched it, it got me thinking of “Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein”, my favorite of the old Universal Horror films, after “Bride of Frankenstein”. Why does that film still work decades after it’s initial release? Well simply that they allowed the comedy to be done by Abbott and Costello, while the monsters performed their roles seriously. One person, seeing “Abbot and Costello meet Frankenstein” in an early showing, said that she expected a comedy from an Abbott and Costello film, but the monsters gave her children nightmares. Monsters used to scare people back then. Today, the scariest thing I can think of in a recent horror film, was Keannu reeves attempt to put on a British accent in Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula film.

This film does work, because it is a story of the journey and redemption of Ebeneezer Scrooge. Without the right person playing Scrooge, the film falls apart, and Michael Caine does a wonderful  portraying Scrooge, including his having felt renewed after the ghosts visit. He takes the role seriously, and as well with George C. Scott and Patrick Stewart, portrays Scrooge as a very human being, and not as an overdone burlesque character. There is one actor in a 1970s musical version which I don’t hold as in high regard, even if I do love things about that film. In that 1970s musical version, the actor who played Scrooge, did so like he was sucking on a sour lemon during his entire performance. In “The Muppet Christmas Carol”, The Muppets know when to  provide the comedy, and in the area where Scrooge is shown Christmas future,  not to bring out the antics. It’s fun to see the different roles the Muppets take on is the story. At one point, when Sam the Eagle says, “It’s the American Way!”, they have to remind him where he is. So he says, “It’s the British Way!”

I did title this the Muppets meet the monster, and if there is any doubt he is considered a monster in this version, we’re informed in a musical number that he is so evil, he can affect the weather and chill you to your bones. In the 1970s musical, it was worse, as we’re told he’s the meanest man in the whole wide world, and even worse, he knew it. It makes me wonder if he subscribes to villains monthly, to learn all the latest tips in remaining a top villain. Do they have awards I wonder?

But is Scrooge really such a villain? My understanding  he was based in part on Charles Dickens, and what Dickens fear of what he’d become. He may have written this as a way of dealing with his own lack of Christmas spirit. This I understand, was also the case of Theodore Geisel with “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, who wrote a story of a character dealing with everyone else getting a holiday he himself didn’t. It also reminds me of that Cartoon by Charles Addams, where Gomez is looking out the window at the way his neighbors have decorated their homes, and how the snow makes his neighborhood look like something you would see in a Christmas special. He turns to his family, and says “Suddenly, I have a dreadful urge to be merry.” 

If there is one weakness in this version, it’s that how the death of Scrooge’s sister isn’t mentioned. Her death may have been what affected Ebeneezer the most, and caused him to take his dark path. She was there for him, when nobody else was. Her death bringing his nephew Fred into the world, was a great part of the reason that Scrooge resented Fred getting married. It really adds to the reason Ebeneezer resented Fred getting married, then simply that Fred married a poor girl. It also make’s where Fred is willing to get to know Fred’s wife after his visits from the ghosts. In all fairness however, Scrooge’s sister isn’t even brought up in two other versions I love, which are the Mickey Mouse Christmas Carol, or the Mr. Magoo Christmas Carol. I understand, because both of these animated versions probably considered Scrooge losing his sister too dark, yet in the examination of Scrooge’s life she was one of his few lines to the outside world. 

This is a beautifully made film, that is well deserving of being the favorite Christmas film for many. If you haven’t seen it, it is well worth checking out.

[marvelousgeeks]

There have been multiple instances where I’ve gushed about Lifetime’s The Spirit of Christmas, deeming it one of the best holiday films since the classics. It’s in line with the greats like While You Were Sleeping and The Holiday and perfectly fit for people who adore stories about invisible strings and fate intermingling. However, The Spirit of Christmas also effectively brings to our screens a hero’s journey that’s so deliciously angsty that it captures and underscores why complex characters are necessary for storytelling. At the same time, Daniel Forsythe is peak book boyfriend material—the best kind of romance hero while Kate Jordan is the type of relatable heroine many of us look for.

The Spirit of Christmas is the kind of movie worth watching multiple times throughout the year, and almost every time you do so, there’s a high chance you’ll notice something you didn’t before. In my 17,201,233rd viewing, I caught the words “Like a nightmare that goes on forever. I want to wake, but I can’t.” It comes during such a tender moment that it’s almost shocking the words are so bleak, yet it’s what makes the film’s ending triumph far more evocative. The characterizations for both Daniel and Kate, as well as the genuinely fantastic performances by Thomas Beaudoin and Jen Lilley, add nuances to the characters that drive the narrative to compelling territories.

Continue Reading

[bittersweet--chaos]

here are the ideas i had, you’re welcome to add on or make new ones! i’m kinda busy tonight so i’ll probably be barely online :/

lyra’s family is all unempowered & pretty neglectful so when lyra was old enough to move away they’ve been no contact- until one day their shitty mom moves in and tries to rekindle a relationship

however they have many younger siblings that he tries to stay in contact with and he keeps them a secret due to being targeted by someone (idk who yet, could be quinn for all i know) and it’s really hard to stay quiet about their younger siblings

the fucking inversion shit- they’re a teacher and was probably working with his stealth students; my idea is that he gets majorly injured to protect one of their students but sadly that student doesn’t make it no matter how hard he tried to protect them

their youngest sibling shows up out of the blue one day and gets majorly injured by the one person who lyra was trying to protect them from

having a toxic girlfriend that makes them a little scared of angel (who i headcanon being more feminine presenting, but if you don’t then ignore this little idea lmao)- however the toxic environment in general makes them a lot more gift giving/chores than what was asked (he just doesn’t wanna be yelled at)

more of a holiday one: the first christmas that lyra has while being in a relationship with angel and david, they realize that lyra has no idea how to accept gifts of any kind (it was just thought that he was awkward with gifts, but even at a holiday where the main event is gift giving…) he opens up about how his parents never liked them and just decided to not give lyra any gifts while their siblings got a lot of them

Okie dokie! I remember it’s homecoming so go have fun!!

I thought about Lyra met David and Angel, how they got together, everything

So of course we sad Lyra was taking photos at a school event for their portfolio and they saw the the pack. And they looked amazing. So professional, so he wanted photos of them working and of them together. But then they realized about 70% of their photos were of David, the alpha. So they decided to talk to him. But he didn’t want to talk to them. Lyra kept bugging David on about talking to him until David snapped. The two of them talked and they realized they had something’s in common. So Lyra set up a date and David agreed

Lyra ended up falling first. He fell hard for David’s tough exterior and handsome face. But then he found out that David had a mate, Angel. David started to isolate himself, because if he just pushed himself away from David he doesn’t have to accept the fact that David won’t be his. But David notices. He notices when his friend of all a sudden doesn’t want to be around him. That doesn’t have the time to hang out. But David is to fucking stubborn to try and reach other because he has the mentality of “if he wants to leave they want to leave.” Angel is the one who makes him call Lyra and set up a date to go talk. And they do and Lyra comes out to liking David and David does the same. So after talking with Angel the two of them start dating

Lyra and Angel are a little slower to falling for each other. Angel wants to try and be friends with their boyfriend‘s boyfriend but since Lyra has that trauma from their ex they’re really reluctant to being around them. But Angel makes it work out somehow. The more they start spending time together the more they start to like each other until they start to fall for each other. But Lyra is scared to fall for Angel. Because they’re scared Angel will abuse them again.

Angel is the first to confess which is honesly Lyra’s worst nightmare. They love them, they do. But they’re scared. Angel can see the fear and when they ask about it Lyra opens up about their toxic ex. Angel promises and reassures him that they aren’t her, but words only do so much. So Angel takes things slow with Lyra when they start dating

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey do you have any fics where john sits in sherlocks lap? Like in any way, shaoe or firm thats just my fave trope. Love your content btw.

Hey Lovely!!

Ahhh, because of you, I started a list, so not everything nor a lot is here, sadly! I never had the foresight to consider it as something people would want, so I’ve never tagged fics, LOL. Here’s what I got that have some sort of Lap Sitting in the fic! 

Feel free, Lovelies, to add your own recs!!

LAP SITTING

The Healing Touch by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 2,307 w., 1 Ch. || Caretaking,  Domestic Fluff, Stroppy Sherlock, John Loves Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sofa Cuddles, Insecure Sherlock) – Sherlock's broken his foot and he's becoming unbearably stroppy. Good thing John has the healer's touch... ;) Part 3 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Where You Are by Mazarin221b (E, 2,478 w., 1 Ch. || Beach Sex, First Time, Fluff, Smut, Holidays, Pining, Lap Sitting, Stroppy Sherlock, Touching) – He can admit he’s secretly a little glad Sherlock didn’t come with him. He needs a break. Sherlock is a handful at the best of times, and the near-constant apologizing, fixing, dealing-with, and following up on is exhausting. The near-constant unrequited attraction is a bit exhausting, too, to be honest, and John could really use a tiny bit of rest from the relentless hammering on his brain and heart.

Rumpled by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 3,601 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Insecure Sherlock, Fluff, PWP, Proposal, Bottomlock) – Then, halfway through a documentary on river otters that neither of them was paying attention to--how could John, with a gangly, limp consulting detective practically purring in his lap?--Sherlock suddenly bolted upright, looked at John with a perplexed expression and a crinkle above his nose, and blurted, “Marry me.” Part 4 of Longitudinal Cohort

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

[procrastinatingnerd]

Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜

Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break

Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).

Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.

Word Count: 3.6k

Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.

~Joan of Arc (Probably)

“I am so fucking tired”

“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.

As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!

But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.

I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.

I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.

“Hello?” I say tiredly.

“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.

“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”

“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?

“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.

“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”

Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.

“Holy shit.”

On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.

“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.

At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.

“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”

“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.

"That's

right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”

“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”

“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.

“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.

“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”

“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.

Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.

Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-

My phone rings again.

I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.

“Jimmy, hi! How are-”

“Have you seen it??”

“Yes.”

“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”

“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.

“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”

“But what if something happens again? Something like-”

“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”

“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”

“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”

“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.

He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.

“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.

“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.

“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.

“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”

Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.

Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.

“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.

“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”

“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.

“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”

“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.

“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.

“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.

“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”

“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.

“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.

“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.

“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.

“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.

“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.

“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.

“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.

“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.

“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.

“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”

“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.

“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”

Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces

squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.

“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”

Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.

“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.

“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.

“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.

I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.

“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-

“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.

“Have you seen??”

“Did you know??”

“How long have they been together?!”

“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”

“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.

“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.

“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”

“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.

“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.

“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.

“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“I get

that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.

“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.

“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.

“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”

“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.

“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.

“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.

“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”

“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”

“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.

“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.

“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.

I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.

I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.

I’m so happy for them.

[whump-advent-calendar]

🎄WHUMP ADVENT CALENDAR🎄

Sooo, it’s finally time! Now, the little picture thingy above might look confusing at first, but don’t worry, I’ll explain all the prompts right here.

 Also, since there were people who wanted the prompts to be shown early, but also people who wanted them to be a surprise, I decided to compromise - I will add a little something to each prompt when the time comes :D It will be something similar to what I’m going to add to the alternate prompts, which will hopefully be posted later today. 😅

Information about tagging and posting is under the read more :D

.    

1 – Baby it’s cold outside

(1st – 3rd December)

Hypothermia 🎄 Locked outside overnight 🎄 Cuddling for warmth

.    

2 – Kiss by candle light

(4th – 6th December)

Candles 🎄 Burns (either because of the flame or the hot wax) 🎄 Fear of fire

 .   

3 – All the lights and decorations put up in anticipation

(7th – 9th December)

Christmas decorations  🎄 Using them to tie someone up / for torture  🎄 Putting them up together

.    

4 – Break the ice

(10th – 12th December)

Ice and cold water  🎄 Falling through ice  🎄 Ice skating

.    

5 – Isn’t it a little early for this?

(13th - 15th December)

Fireworks  🎄 Explosion  🎄 Working with pyrotechnics gone wrong

.    

 6 – The smell of gingerbread and vanilla

(16th - 18th December)

“I made this for you but I‘m not sure it’s edible.”  🎄  Poisoned  🎄  Baking

 .    

 7- Nightmare before Christmas

(19th - 21st December)

Nightmares and night terrors  🎄 PTSD  🎄 “It’s okay, it was just a dream..”

.     

 8 – Christmas Day

(22nd - 24th December)

Christmas celebrations   🎄 Spending the holidays in captivity  🎄 With found family

 .    

 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄            

Alt 1

🎁 Sick during the holidays 🎁

Alt 2

🎁 Presents 🎁

Alt 3

🎁 Coming together 🎁

🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄 🎄

Now, some more info and rules😂

You can post whenever you want, just please wait until December :D

Please @ this blog in every post you make for this event, putting #wac2020 in the tags is fine too but this seems more reliable 😅 also if you tag me and I don’t reblog your post in a day, it’s probably because tumblr didn’t let me know you tagged me - in that case dm me, send asks, any way to let me know is fine so don’t hesitate contact me if this happens (I remember how frustrated I was when none of my whumptober posts got reblogged)

Make sure to put trigger warning in the tags if needed

You can use any media you want, and both fandom related and original content is welcome! 😃

The prompts can be combined, posted in different order or even slightly changed - as long as you at least loosely stick to the original one 😃

Alrighty, that should be it.. If you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to send an ask! 😄

Oh oh, and everyone who participates gets a little surprise in the end of December 👀 Have fun and stay safe!

[bruh--wtf]

Butterflies

Remus Lupin x Reader

Main Masterlist

Part 1

Next

Summary: You're Lily Evans' little sister. She isn't the only witch in the family.

Remus Lupin Masterlist

You were excited to see your favorite sister again. Today was the day that you went with your parents to get Lily from the train station. You'd seen her over the holidays and read her letters, but you missed her.

You saw your sister's bright red hair and ran through the crowd, ignoring your parents protesting behind you. You were only a year younger than Lily, but sometimes everyone treated you like a child.

"Lily!" You call. She look back, a little confused. You jumped infront of her, not minding the boy she was talking to. You wrapped your arms around, making her stumble back a bit. She laughed, hugging you back just as tightly. "I missed you so much!" You pull away a little bit to look at her. "Petunia has been a nightmare! She's made friends with all these jerks who of course just must hate me! And-" Your sister cuts you off.

"Slow down, Y/N," she says, chuckling. "Petunia and her friends can wait." You nod, and smile again.

"Anyways, I want to hear about your year. Of course I saw you at Christmas, and I read your letters, but still! I'm sure your friends are much better than hers. Will you have them over during the summer? Do you-" a boy cuts you off.

"How much sweets have you had, kid?" The boy with dark hair and glasses asks. Lily gives him a pointed look. He wasn't the boy Lily had been talking to. The other boy had lighter brown hair and was tall. He was scrawny, gangly. But he looked much nicer. And the boy next to the boy in glances had longer black hair. Then there was the fair haired boy who looked like he didn't very well fit in with the other three.

"I'm not a kid," you say, glaring at the boy. Yes, you were short for your age. But you had grown to hate when people assumed things about you because of it. The boy raises an eyebrow, almost amused.

"Yeah, she's definitely Evans' sister," he says, glancing at Lily who rolled her eyes.

"Y/N, this is James, Sirius, and Peter. And this is my friend Remus," she says. Pointedly not calling the other three her friends. You nodded at the other three and gave the much taller boy a small smile.

"Nice to meet you," you say. He nods in agreement, clearly amused with the situation.

"You too," he says. You smile a little more and your parents walk over. Your dad puts a hand on your shoulder, and his other hand fell on Lily's.

"Come on you two, lets get home." Lily nods, smiling at Remus.

"I'll see you around, Remus," she says. He nods, smiling at her. Youu turn to your father and walk back with him.

Lily had introduced you to a few of her other friends from school over the summer. Aparently Remus lives in the 'muggle' world. That's what she said at least. But they didn't actually visit eachother. She mainly hung out with Severus. You didn't really like him, but he was Lily's bestfriend.

"Lily! An owl!" You call up the stairs as an owl stops by the kitchen window. You smile at it, and put some food beside it, and take the two envelopes from it's mouth. It eats the food as you turn to Lily who ran in. She smiled and took the letters from your hand.

She looked a little confused and turned the letters over. Her eyes widened and she looked up at you.

"What?" You ask. She hands you one of the envelopes. You see your name on the back of it. Your eyes widened as well, and you and Lily made eye contact. After a minute she grinned and embraced you.

"Ah! You're a witch!" She says. You stood there in shock. Your parents and Petunia run in. Your parents smiled when they realized, but Petunia scowled.

Just another reason why on the train ride to Hogwarts, you sat with Lily and her friends happily. Mary, Marlene, and Alice all welcomed you warmly. Remus and his friends stopped by to all of you. They looked surprised to see you, Remus was the first to smile.

"Hey, Y/N, nice to see you again," he says. You smile back and nod.

"You too," you say. He chuckles slightly, realizing that's what he said to you when you initially met. Sirius pushes past his friend.

"Huh, didn't think we'd be lucky enough to get two Evans girls with us this year," he says. Lily gives him a sharp, disapproving look. You however, were a little amused. James looked down the hall and chuckled.

"Lets go, Sirius. Snivellus is coming," he says, smirking. You were a little confused.

"His name is Severus, Potter," Lily says. You realized who the nickname was for and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. Lily gave you a disapproving look, and you pressed your lips together. Trying to hide your smile. It didn't go very well. The boys all smiled at you.

"I like her," Sirius says. You smiled slightly.

"Yeah, me too," James says. Your smile widened slightly.

You were sorted into Gryffindor that night. Lily was very happy for you. You had friends from all houses, but mainly from your own. And the boys seemed to like you. James plopped himself down next to you.

"Hello," he says, smiling. You don't look up from your paper. You were still working on your essay for transfiguration. Remus sat down on your other side, and Sirius sat down on the floor inbetween you and James. His back was against the couch.

"Oh no, boys, we've lost her," Sirius says.

"She's lost, we'll never get her back," James adds, sighing. You turn your head and glare at the two of them. Their eyes widen, almost with fear. You shifted your gaze back to your paper. You'd procrastinated and needed to get the essay done tonight. Remus leaned forward looking over your shoulder. He chuckles slightly and looks back at his friends.

"We haven't lost her," he says. You glare at him, he still looked amused. You reach over and pushed his face back, and he leans back on the couch. His friends try to stifle their laughs, as you look back at your paper.

"Definitely not," Sirius says. You didn't even look away from your paper this time and just slapped the back of his head.

"I say she needs a break," James says. You flip him off over your shoulder, again not looking. You saw him and Sirius exchange a look out of your peripheral vision.

"Guys, just let her get it done," Remus says, you could hear him rolling his eyes.

"She'll blow up if she stresses any more right now," James says.

"I'll blow up if you keep talking, you twat," you say to him. Him and Sirius exchange a look again. This time they nod. They quickly stand up, going towards the boy's staircase. You sigh, trying to just finish your paper. Remus leans forward.

"Do you want help?" He asks, more gently than before. You glance at him and shake your head.

"I'm fine. I'm almost done anyways." He nods, sitting back. He didn't get up or walk away. He just waited for you to be done. Silently. He even opened a book to read while you worked.

In your second year, you'd basically become the Mauraders adopted sister. At least James and Sirius. They treated you like you were their sister and not Lily's.

They were allowed to start going to Hogsmeade, but you had to wait another year.

Sirius was starting his flirting ways.

James had officially started trying to get your sister to go out with him.

Peter was just following their lead.

And Remus sat back, watching their idiocy unfold. You look at Remus, who was sitting beside you on the couch. You knit your eyebrows together. The other three boys were probably somewhere in the castle causing some kind of mayhem. Remus looked up from his book, feeling you looking at him.

"What?" He asks. You turn on the couch.

"Why aren't you with the others right now?" You ask. He seems a little confused by your question.

"I don't know. I just felt like staying here," he says, shrugging and looking back down at his book.

"Then why aren't you like them?" You ask. He chuckles, looking back up at you.

"What do you mean?" He asks, looking amused.

"Like Sirius and James. They've been trying to set you up all year and you couldn't be less interested. Why is that?" You ask. He seems to think about it again. He shrugs again.

"I don't know. I don't like the girls they think I will, I guess," he says.

"Sure, but you don't even try to find a girl that you will like?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He closes his book, keeping one finger in it as a book mark. He gives you a questioning look.

"Why are you asking?"

"Answer me, I'll answer you," you say just as quickly as he'd finished. He sighs, leaning further into the couch, getting more comfortable. You raise an eyebrow when he pauses.

"I think we're to young," he says after a second. You could tell he wasn't telling the full truth. Maybe that was part of it, but it definitely wasn't all of it. You knit your brows together, trying to think of his reasoning. You just didn't get it.

So you just turn back to your homework. "Hey, you said you'd tell me," he says. You glance at him.

"Guess I'm just curious," you say. He clearly doesn't believe you. He won't give you a full answer? He won't get one either.

[jay-and-dean]

Yet another thing to celebrate

Dean x reader

Summary (I used the requester’s words) :  Reader’s birthday is on Christmas Eve, which generally sucks because everyone is either skint or celebrating Christmas.

Warnings : Fluffy fluff with a little fluff whipped cream on top. Very implied smut.

Wordcount : 3.6k

Note : This is my fic for @girl-next-door-writes Secret Santa (I reaaally hope you like it lovely, merry Christmas and happy birthday) hosted by @negans-lucille-tblr​ on @spnsecretsantaficexchange​.

I also made my participation to the amazing @acklesterritory​‘s celebration challenge, in the fic, my prompt was “I saw that, you just checked me out”, it’s bold in the fic.

The song refered to is She’s always a woman, by Billie Joel.

The text dividers are from the great @firefly-graphics​

Jay’s Masterlist

          Christmas…

           Before you even open your eyes, you sigh, grabbing the soft pillow in your fist and nuzzling on its softness in a sleepy grunt.

You don’t hate this day, but it often makes you a little sad despite your will to enjoy it fully. It is your birthday. December 24, the busiest day in the country, damn, in the whole West. And even if you are not the kind to want the full attention on you, to be spoiled or anything, you just wish sometimes that, for once, you could have a proper birthday.

           When you were a teen, you more than once even dared dreaming of a party you could throw, but Christmas is about family and basically about everyone. Not you.

           You dream of a little birthday party with friends, some drinks, music, maybe dancing a little... But it would be impossible unless you do it way before or way after, and it wouldn't really be the same...

           This year is different though.

           This winter, even if the celebration of your birth was totally forgotten, you don’t need anything more than what you have now. And what you have is Dean Winchester. Nothing is more important than that, nothing can make you happier.

           In fact, nothing can really make you feel any other way than blessed after this summer. After Dean kissed you on that hunt, after you two had sex in the Impala on your way home ; after later he asked you to stay in his bed for the night that other evening you both ended up naked. And finally, after he asked you to stay in his room for good a few weeks later, and started calling you his girlfriend.

           You smile thinking of waking up next to him and move your feet to find his behind you. But when you don’t, you turn and rub your eyes before opening them.

           Empty. Your shared bed is empty.

“Dean ?” is the first word you say, but the room stays cruelly silent.

Of course… It’s Christmas. He must be busy, like everyone is always on that day… The sting on your heart comes back... You have woken up with the man you love every single morning for the last few months, but not today.

           That is how lame your birthday can be.

           After staying in bed almost one hour, trying to shake that blues off by thinking of how blessed you are, you finally are about to get up and face that stolen day, but the door opens slowly.

           You close your eyes, not really knowing why, maybe just to avoid having to find an explanation for not getting up before if you were awake. The bed moves under Dean’s weight as he crawls on it slowly but you don’t move, even when he clumsily crushes your arm a little while hovering you.

“Happy birthday Baby” he whispers with his coffee breath close to your face. “Have you decided to skip today ? It’s almost noon.”

“Mh…” you hum, lifting your arms to reach his neck, desperate to feel his skin. “Thank you.”

You hesitate a second, wanting to ask him why he got up without you today, why he didn’t wake you with kisses and sweet words like he often does, but you don’t say anything, grateful enough that he got tired of you not being with him and came to get you.

           He lets a part of his weight fall on you, making you huff and laugh softly. His scruff scratches your shoulder, the rough fabric of his jeans is uncomfortable and his belt is digging to your hip but you wouldn't change a thing.

           Your hand goes to his neck and massages it softly, he hums, and you feel his body softly relax. You always know just how to calm him, how to make him fall back asleep after a nightmare, how to make his muscles calm after the roughest hunts. But after less than a minute, he grunts, sitting up.

"No, no" he shakes his head. "You're not making me skip that day with you ! Get up Baby."

He grabs your shoulders and playfully shake them, not realizing that even his kidding strength is huge.

"Geeet uuuup" he chuckles when your whole body is shaken and your laugh sounds funny because of it.

           The warm water runs along your hair and down your spine, and a soft steam fills the bathroom. For sure, that was a great late breakfast, with pancakes Dean had made for you, and his little stolen kisses.

           He is really making this day better.

           Maybe you can forget about your birthday now, and just enjoy Christmas like a normal person. You are loved, and you are happy, you don't need anything else.

           Washing your hair, you smile thinking of the tree the boys have bought, so big that they struggled to carry it up the stairs. You chuckle at thinking of Dean grumbling about the thorns covering Baby's seats. They even bought bags mysterious decorations and fairy lights they never let you see. The library now smells like Christmas tree.

           We're celebrating this year, Dean said. And in the years you have known the Winchesters, you indeed never saw them put so much effort in a holiday.

           A lot of things keep surprising you.

           Sam once told you that his brother had changed a lot since he was with you, making you worry more than anything else. You never wanted Dean to change, you love Dean just the way he is... Then you understood what Sammy was saying...

           You understood in the little things. Like Dean's new love for late mornings in bed, like him drinking a little less, being a little less reckless during hunts, humming in the shower, letting go more in bed, allowing himself to give up the constant control he has on himself... And in his will to celebrate Christmas. Dean is not different, he is just happier.

           Your eyes get a little wet with joy at the thought while your rub your body with the delicious smelling foam.

           Forget your birthday, if Dean's happiness demands this day to be the Christmas he didn't have as a kid, the Christmas he is finally allowing himself to want, then you are honored to help him make it perfect.

           You step out of the shower and your eyes meet the big mirror. In the middle of it, written with a big finger on the thick steam : "I love you Y/n".

           Your choice is made : This will be Christmas. This will be anything to make that man as lucky as you are.

"How can I help ?" you say, entering the kitchen where Dean is apparently trying to make cookies, wearing this apron he only puts on for great occasions.

"I'm making cookies men like in Shrek" he says pointing to the not-so-bad gingerbread biscuits he already cooked with his finger covered in dough.

           You come behind him and wrap your arms around his middle, forehead on his back, just feeling his breathing for a second. Dean doesn't stop what he is doing because he is used to you tenderly and randomly holding him, his clean fingers only come to gently caress your arm for a second before he shapes another cookie, chuckling when he adds a tiny penis to the little guy.

"I love you too" you murmur, nose grazing his back to bath in his smell.

He hums.

"We will eat dinner pretty early, I hope you're hungry" he says, looking at his watch. "I want to enjoy some time with my girl after."

You smile, getting on your tiptoes to kiss the uncovered skin of his neck above the collar of his flannel. He wants a lazy evening, making love like you do, or maybe try a kinky thing ; what is sure is you will gladly give him what he wants.

           Time goes by sweetly as you watch this deadly warrior check the turkey while his equally legendary warrior brother prepares another round of eggnog for the three of you. They move around like busy bees in the room and it's a perfect show.

           You sit on the counter, talking about silly things, sometimes doing something to help, when your boyfriend lets you. You keep sipping from the sugary drink, and watching the beauty of Dean just be before your eyes. Unaware of how perfect he is in his every moves, he just works with his strong arms and skilled hands.

           Your eyes linger a little along his thick thighs, and you bend your head to the side to enjoy the exquisite sight of the sensual curve of his butt.

"I saw that, you just checked me out" he says in a smile without even turning around.

"And ?" you let out in a chuckle. "What are you going to do about that ?"

At your surprise, he starts to rock his hips from right to left slowly in clumsy funny moves of his butt, like he wanted to sexy dance for you without stopping what he is doing, earning an eye roll from his brother when his hip hits him on his way.

           Christmas is already perfect.

           The table is beautiful. Different courses in pretty plates you didn't know the guys had filling it like you have only seen in the movies. There is way too much food for three people but you are so happy that your beloved Winchester can eat like they want for Christmas eve.

           Everything is pretty, the giant messy tree has real bright decorations on it and there are even a few presents at its feet, wrapped messily in colorful papers.

           But their most impressive work is the light in the room, changing the place completely. Almost none of the artificial lights of the bunker is on, and a subdued ambiance with fairy lights and candles make it look even more magical than it usually is.

"When did you find the time to do all that ?" you smile with unintended wetness in your enthralled eyes. "It looks... enchanted in here."

"You stayed in bed until noon" Dean says in a light chuckle, pulling a chair for you and putting a kiss on your cheek. "Merry Christmas baby."

"It's perfect, Deanie" you turn your head so his next kiss lands on the corner of your mouth. "Merry Christmas guys."

Sam sits, rubbing his hands at the sight of the turkey, and starts reminding his brother of an old memory of a past Christmas you listen with all your focus. Everything that can make you know more about their life always catches your full attention. You are, after all, their biggest fan.

           The story is about a Christmas when Dean was a teen. He had spent the night between 23th and 24th December with a girl and was really late to come back to the motel. Sam thought maybe he wouldn't be back for diner, he had already taken the cereals out of the closet when Dean showed up carrying the whole cooked Turkey he had stolen from the girl's parents.

           You look at your boyfriend with all the love in the world and bend to give him a kiss on the forearm while he cuts a piece of this not stolen meat for you.

"Her parents were dicks, and I couldn't let you starve, dad would have killed me" Dean chuckles, filling your plate.

           But you know the story must be really different from just that, Dean never brags about how great he was with Sam.

           You let out a little moan, tasting the food and Dean’s face is lit by a wide proud grin.

“It’s good ?” he asks before he even tastes, an excited hope in his eyes.

“Delischious” you answer with your mouth full, a hand before it.

           And indeed, everything is perfect. Dean, as much as Sam can playfully denies it, is a great cook. He has no technique, no cooking education, but what he has is a real love for food and comfort, a great experience on mixing things and tasting that gives him a perfect intuition. And, above all, the strong selfless will of saying "I love you" with food like some people have.

           Sitting on the floor next to the tree, you hold against you the red flannel Dean finally agreed to give you, and the books Sam bought for you. Your head is leaning lovingly on your lover's shoulder while he looks, exited, at the vinyl records he got, humming his favorite songs.

           You crawl between his thighs and rest your back on his chest, your head back, temple grazing his scruff.

"Best Christmas ever" you smile, feeling his lips graze your cheek. "So what is the program of a Winchester Christmas after that ?"

You close your eyelid and take a deep breath of Dean's scent, expecting a sexy proposition.

"We're going somewhere" he smiles, and, when you open your eyes, you see Sam put on his coat.

"Now ?" you frown, a little confused. "Where ?"

Dean gets up, putting you on your feet with his strong arm, and takes his coat and yours from Sam's hands.

"I'm not telling you. Take your jacket and get in the car."

           He is silent on the road despite all your questions.

           You listen to the car's purring and look outside to try to guess where they are taking you. The white snow covers the sides of the road with a very thin and delicate layer, the headlights are hit with little swirling snowflakes, and no clue betrays their surprise.

           Sam is smiling, looking out the window. You know they have been planning something, and you know you will love it. Maybe they will show you a place they used to go when they were kids, maybe take you to a special place where you can see the stars so clearly, like this time last summer.

"Come on Dean" you say, kneeling on Baby's back seat to wrap your arms around him from behind, going down a little to feel his firm chest though his shirt under your palms. "Tell me."

"You can't wait just five minutes" he tries to grunt, but it sounds more like a chuckle.

           You fall silent, not letting go of him, holding him like the precious treasure he is, occasionally smelling his hair, kissing his shoulder and tracing the contours of his ear. You just can't stop touching him, and since that talk you had after sex once, you know how much he loves it.

"Aw" Sam mocks you like he often does. "You two are so cute."

"Fuck yeah we are" Dean groans, turning right to a one way road.

"You know Christmas is already perfect" you smile. "You don't have to surprise me again."

"Yeah, I know" he says, parking in front of a bar. "But, it's not only Christmas today."

           You look around, confused. The guys open the door, letting the freezing cold enter the Impala, and get out in a perfect sync. You follow them, lifting your eyes to the colorful neon lights reflecting in the snowy night. Around on the parking lot, more cars than you would have expected are parked, and you wonder who would spend Christmas eve in a bar like this one.

           But before you can wonder why they would have taken you there, to this bar you never heard off, your boyfriend's hand wraps around your waist and he guides you inside, pushing the heavy doors.

           The first thing that hits you is the perfect warmth of the inside. The temperature is perfect but not only : the music is smooth like honey, it's this kind of blues that is paradoxically happy and comforting, it smells like wood and whiskey ; and above all, here too, there is something about the light that feels like a hug.

           The second thing that hits you is the welcoming familiar face of Garth smiling to you.

"Garth ?" you frown and feel Dean's lips graze your ear. "Happy birthday Baby."

He lets go of you to walk to the people there at the bar, arms open to greet them, letting you stunned.

           You are recognizing all you friends there, still in their Christmas clothes, walking to you to hug you and bring you drinks and for a few seconds, your body just stays still.

           No one is missing, not one person. And, even if you don't have hundreds of friends since you joined the hunter life, you have never seen a room so full of love.

"Let me take your coat" Jody says, seeing you froze to the spot.

"I... You're here for me ? Th-they planned all that ?" you stammer with some watery emotions filling your eyes.

"Dean did" Jody smiles. "We followed."

             You're sipping from that delicious drink the bartender made according to your tastes, unable to take that smile off of your face. Donna, a little tipsy in her pretty outfit, is telling sexy jokes with a full dimpled smile, making Sam chuckle and Charlie high-five her, spilling a little of her drink on you.

           From the corner of your eye, you look at him.

           He is bending on the pool table with a smirk, his beer next to him. From here, you can't hear what he is saying to the other players, but it seems a little cocky. After only a few seconds staring at him, it's like he felt it and he looks up, giving you the cutest wink.

           And you blush. Because even after all you have lived together, even after the kinky experiences, the intimate moments, after seeing him cry, yell, suffer or come... A wink is still enough to turn you to a blushing mess.

           All evening, he has been keeping his distance just a little. Not avoiding you at all but not clinging to you, to let you enjoy your friends, to let you have the full experience of a birthday party like you dreamed of since you were a teen.

           A birthday with loud silly discussions, a lot of drinks, inventing silly tipsy games with your best friends, trading your clothes in the bathroom, catching up as much as dancing with each other... And you never felt loved that much.

           Dean's love is the sun in the middle of your world, but now you can also see the stars, and it is probably the best night of your life so far.

           He managed to do something you never could for years and all your friends agreed with his crazy plan. They all had an early Christmas diner to be able to drive here, offer you too many drinks and be there for you. They all made it about you and you're both incredibly grateful and emotional. And since most of them will come sleep at the bunker -and eat all the leftovers with you tomorrow- you don't have to care about the time.

           Suddenly, a music note catches your ear.

           You know that note by heart. It is the first note of your favorite love song, it is the firsts notes of what Dean hums in your ear sometimes when he holds you after making love to you, pushing your hair on the side to see your sweaty bliss face.

           You turn you head and meet green eyes, closer than you expected.

"Hey" he says, taking your hand.

"Hey" you smile.

He tugs gently at your arm, pulling you away from the bar to wrap his arms around your waist.

           You have missed him. Of course he was here, but after everything he has done for you, you really have missed holding him, smelling his skin and kissing his lips.

           He starts to sway his hips really slightly, humming the love words of the song, and you throw your arms around his neck, looking up at his perfect face.

"She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes..." he whispers the lyrics, fingers grazing the skin of your neck.

And for the hundredth time today, your eyes fill with happy tears while his fingertips go down on your back to hold your waist again.

"Are you having fun ?" he asks low, one hand stroking your lower back tenderly, thumb pushing your shirt up discreetly to feel your skin.

"It's the best night of my life" you give him your most sincere smile. "Dean... You are really incredible, you know that ?"

"Yeah" he nods, hiding his shyness in a kiss on your lips.

"I really was ready to chose Christmas, you know ?" you state, swaying your hips slowly with him, forgetting the rest of the world in your bubble of love.

His plumb lips gently raise on the corner, and he lets go of you to search his pocket.

"I didn't have to choose between hunter life and happy life thanks to you, so I'll make sure you never have to choose between your birthday and Christmas" he murmurs in your ear, before kissing your temple.

His hand reach yours and he opens it to put a little thing on your palm.

"What do you say we had yet another thing to celebrate on that day ?" his breath tickles  your neck and you look down to your hand, discovering a little golden ring with a tiny blue stone in the middle of your shaking palm.

"Dean ?"

"Marry me Baby ?"

FEEDBACK IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME

Tags : @parinarain​​ @mogaruke​​ @masterof-agony​​ @rainflowermoon @tftumblin​​ @deans-baby-momma​​ @roonyxx​​ @thefaithfulwriter​​ @vicariouslythruspn​​ @emeow1496​​ @daryldixonandfrogs​​ @holylulusworld​​  @cocklesbelli @sandlee44​​ @screenchingartisancashbailiff @donnaintx​​ @stormchasingchick32​​ @akshi8278​​ @magssteenkamp​​ @sister-winchesters99​​ @neii3n​​  @lyss-dw79​​ @im-a-shrub @sadwaywardkid​​@hopelesslydevotedtoyou1912 @slyqueenj​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @waywardsisterandpie @sunsetsandbooks​​ @mrspeacem1nusone​​ @stylesismyhubs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @jawritter​​ @peridottea91​​ @chelsea072498 @chocolateheart​​ @vicmc624​​ @teresa-67​​ @jessie-michael​​ @doctor-hp-mcu​​ @hawkerz12​​ @mariaenchanted​​ @hobby27​​ @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden​​ @thoughts-and-funnies​​ @suramyaa @yasreadsfics​

[stardusttkachuk]

Santa’s Workshop

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, swearing,

Summary: JJ picks up a holiday job, working as one of Santa’s elves. He doesn’t expect to meet another elf there, but isn’t disappointed in who he’ll be working with all season.

A/N: This is day 1 of starduststarkey’s 12 days of Christmas. Find other fics in my masterlist

Wanna be tagged? click here!

“You look fucking ridiculous,” John B says as JJ stands in front of the broken full length mirror that JB picked up from a junkyard.

“At least I have a job, asshat.” He fixes his hat on his head, grimacing at the way the tights hug his body. He’s uncomfortable in every place imaginable and is already dreading the 5 hour shift.

“Maybe if you’re a good elf, Santa will bring you a girlfriend this year!” Pope teases.

“You better shut the fuck up before this elf beats you to a pulp,” JJ threatens, fists raised.

Pope laughs. “I don’t think elves are supposed to be getting in fist fights.”

JJ huffs and rolls his eyes. Pope is right. He can’t show up to this job covered in bruises, that would scare the kids even more than he probably already will.

“Will you please drive me?” He asks John B. 

“Maybe you should ask Santa for a car,” John B says, grabbing the keys to the Twinkie.

“Why do you think I even took this job in the first place? Please. I don’t want to be seen in public like this.”

You set your bag in the provided cubby, checking your phone one last time before your scheduled session. When you had signed up to be one of Santa’s elves at the local mall, you were ecstatic. You and your best friend had been doing this for the last two years. But this year, your best friend ditched you for the hot chocolate stand. Really she ditched you for the cute girl who worked at the hot chocolate stand, and now you were stuck working with some kid named JJ Maybank. You crossed your fingers in hopes that he wasn’t some loser like the guy they hired last season.

“Santa arrives in 10 minutes! You better be out there in 5!” Natasha, the showrunner of Santa’s Workshop yells through the improvised locker and changing room. “Where’s your other elf?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Well when he gets here tell him he’s a dead man if he isn’t here 15 minutes prior to his shift.” She storms out, clipboard in hand. 

The first day is always one of the craziest. Things don’t settle down until a few weeks in. And by the time they do settle down, it’s already the week before Christmas and they get crazy again. 

“Hi. I’m JJ Maybank. I think this is where I’m supposed to be?” You hear someone say, likely talking to the nutcracker that’s posted outside the green room.

“In there. Find Y/N. You’ll know it’s her because she’ll be dressed just like you.”

You roll your eyes. At least he showed up. Ten minutes late but he did make it.

He passes through the curtains, blonde hair a mess under his elf hat. You’ll have to remind him to brush it before he arrives. You have an extra brush in your bag, but you know you won’t have time to make it look perfect.

He spies you easily, strutting towards you. “I’m JJ. Are you Y/N?” 

“That’s me. You’re late, by the way.”

JJ looks at his watch, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I’m five minutes early! That’s the earliest I’ve been for any job!”

“Natasha’s rules state all workshop employees must be present 15 minutes prior to their shift.”

JJ rolls his eyes. “It’s only ten minutes.”

“And if it happens again, you’re a dead man. So you better be here 15 minutes early next time.”

“Okay but why 15? Aren’t we just sitting around those 15 minutes until our shift starts?”

“It’s for costume malfunctions. Like your hair. It needs to be brushed. If you had been here 10 minutes earlier, maybe we would’ve had time to brush it and make it look better.”

“My hair looks fine,” JJ grumbles, though he does attempt to smooth down the ends with his hands. 

You lead him over to the cubby next to yours, gesturing to it. “Put your stuff in here. And that includes your phone.”

JJ places both his phone and wallet into the cubby. He then takes his jacket off and puts it on top of the two valuable items.

“No one is going to steal your stuff, if you’re worried about that. This place is heavily monitored,” you say. “And no one but Santa’s crew is allowed back here anyway.”

JJ is about to speak when an elderly woman with white hair tucked under her hat enters the room. “Looks like Mrs. Claus has arrived,” he jokes.

“That’s Natasha.” You grab JJ’s hand, pulling him out to Santa’s corner before Natasha has a chance to yell at him for his tardiness.

“So what exactly do we do?” JJ whispers, eyeing the line of children and their parents that seems to wrap around the entire display.

“We help the kids from their parents to Santa’s lap and then back out to their parents again. And don’t forget the candy cane before they leave.”

JJ grimaces. “You mean we have to interact with the kids?”

“Yes. Now smile and act like an elf,” you say.

“How do- ohf!” JJ grunts as you elbow him and immediately reach forward for the hand of a little girl.

“Hi! I’m elf Y/N! And this is my friend elf JJ! What’s your name?” You ask in a high pitched voice. 

“I’m Sophie,” she beams. She grasps onto JJ’s hand and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the face he makes. It’s clear he isn’t a fan of kids and you can’t wait to watch him interact with them for the next 30 days.

JJ pulls his booties on over the tights, chuckling to himself as the bells jingle. They jingle every time he walks. He’s grown so used to the sound now though. He’s grown used to looking absolutely ridiculous in his costume. He’s even grown used to the kids, which he thought was impossible.

But the way Y/N smiles when he coos at a baby or holds onto a preschoolers hand has helped him get over his dislike of the kids. He’d do just about anything to see her smile.

“Ready?” John B asks from the doorway, keys looped around his finger.

“Actually a friend is picking me up,” JJ says, grabbing his phone and wallet.

“What friend? You don’t have any friends besides us.”

“Well that’s very rude of you to think. I have plenty of friends. And her name is Y/N. We work together.”

“Work together or sleep together? Or both. Do you guys like, get it on in the costumes?”

“Ew, no,” JJ scoffs.

“Okay, you know elves is somebody's kink,” John B adds, shuddering as he does.

“I didn’t want to know that. I don’t want to think about that.”

“Okay but Y/N… you like her.”

“No. We’re just friends. We’re coworkers. We work the same shift and she offered to give me a ride, okay? Now can you make yourself disappear before she gets here? I don’t want her seeing your face.”

John B pouts. “Why not? I have a very likable face.”

“Just… please?” JJ asks, but it’s too late. 

The beat up Ford truck pulls up in front of the house. JJ knows it’s hers. On days when they work late and it’s dark outside by the time they leave, he walks her to her car. They once spent two extra hours after work sitting in her car and talking. She even gave him a ride home once, but he made her drop him off down the street. It was too risky for her to pull up to his actual house, especially if his dad was home. 

JJ knows John B is in the doorway when he exits the house. He watches as Y/N waves, a courteous smile on her face. JJ walks to the passenger side, hearing the familiar squeak of the old door.

“Who’s that?”

“John B. He’s my best friend.”

“He’s dating Sarah Cameron right?” she asks.

“Yeah. You know Sarah?”

“Everyone on this island knows Sarah,” Y/N laughs. JJ knows she’s not wrong. Everyone did know the Cameron's, especially after the huge scandal that went down last summer. People don’t typically forget about a murder and stealing of millions of dollars worth in gold.

“Right,” JJ laughs nervously. 

You tear your elf hat off as soon as you reach your truck. Today was a hard shift. Multiple crying kids, lines that wrapped all around the mall, parents who didn’t understand the concept of patience and waiting, and then there was the kid that peed on Santa Claus and made everyone wait even longer while Santa went to change. It was a nightmare. 

If it wasn’t for JJ, today would’ve been the day you quit.

But he insisted on stopping for dinner before you dropped him off, so here you were, sitting at a booth across from him, the both of you still clad in your elf costumes.

You probably looked ridiculous but you didn’t care. JJ was your sole focus tonight. He let you vent to him about the craziness of the day and when you weren’t talking he was telling you about the funniest wishes he had overheard while on candy cane duty. 

“All their missing socks?” You laugh, hand covering your mouth.

JJ nods, laughing harder. “He-He couldn’t understand why the dryer monster needed his socks more than him. He even asked if-if monsters were on the naughty list!” JJ bursts out laughing, as do you. If there was one thing that could cheer you up, it was this.

“Kids got a point,” you giggle. “Why does the dryer monster only take one sock and not both? Do you think he only has one leg?”

JJ nods, his smile wide. “Yeah, instead of one eye he’s got one leg.”

Your laughs die down slowly, but you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The smile that was forced all throughout the day was now a real one.

“I’ve missed that smile,” JJ says, reaching his hand across the table.

You blush but take his hand without hesitation, lacing your fingers through his.

JJ nervously clears his throat. “Do you think when this is all over, I can take you on an actual date?”

You’re not sure your smile could get any wider. “I’d like that.”

You both stare at each other for a while longer, before JJ can’t wait anymore. “I’m going to kiss you now,” he says, leaning over the table.

“I’d like that too,” you respond, meeting him halfway.

Tags: @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @serpentbaby @etoilesnoor @k-k0129 @maybanksbaby @talksoprettyjjx @canibeoneofthepogues @multifixx  @theonetheonlyalexbrown @glux64 @shy-1234 @sleepyhollands @cognacdelights @ilovejjmaybank @blueeyedbesson @cheshirecat107 @myrandom-fandomlife @makebank @ifilwtmfc @obxmxybxnk  @kookkyra @rafej-cambanks @blindedbypeaky @ahiae @repostcentral @midnightzonzz @blxndeprincess @dracosbbygorl @itsagurl @Poguesinablanket @amandaburris @tovvaa @sunnsettee

[mediocre--writing]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeknnubu/

I think I can send links but- I just saw this Pre K teacher tiktok & now all I can think of is a future AU where Steve takes like maybe a younger cousin or maybe a friends kid to school (or even his own kid??) and he walks in on fucking bad boy Billy Hargrove, still rocking his leather jacket and combat boots, seated on the carpet doing this with a bunch of Pre K kids as their teacher. Just this big mean badass dude sitting with a bunch of kids, being the best, most sweet teacher in the world

Bonus points for him having a battle jacket of some sort that he lets them add too and play with the dulled down spikes and studs on. And he has a class where the kids all make a patch one big patch for him to add to his jacket because he loves them so much

AND even more points if he just says his whole nice personality is “fake and for work only because it was the first job he got” but It’s actually real, and he really just likes being with the kids all day because their fun & they unconditionally love him, especially on his bad days where he’s sad & less motivated. I just crave soft emotional stuff 😔

steve, for as kind a fellow as he is, really should have thought twice about offering to take his nephew to pre-k every day.

jill, his older sister, had to be at work by 6 every morning during the week and had no means to take her son, patrick, to school every day.

and steve offered because what else was there to do? he worked two jobs that both started later in the day and jill offered to give him gas money to do it, so why not?

plus, patrick really was a sweetheart, he was just an energetic kid. steve preferred older kids. the younger ones tested his patience too much.

but imagine his surprise when he walks into the building, going to patrick’s classroom, turning into the doorway to see billy hargrove, same as he was when they were in high school, sitting on a colorful, patterned rug, animatedly talking to children.

“biwwy!” patrick yelled as he ran from steve’s side to his... teacher... and hugged him super tight.

“hey, patrick, my buddy!”

steve felt like this may be a dream. there is no way that billy hargrove, mullet and all, was patrick’s pre-k teacher.

billy looked to the door, where steve was still standing, and offered a smile. patrick looked to where billy was looking, excitedly telling him about how his super fun uncle was driving him to school now.

billy was engaging with the kids. he talked along with them and was able to balance all the kids at once. he looked happy, steve realized.

steve left a few moments later, making sure patrick was ok and staring at billy for a while longer.

it’s not until the day before winter break that billy and steve actually interact again.

the class is having a holiday party and parents are encouraged to come and bring food, drink, or just general supervision.

steve had made tons of cookies, enjoying his fattening hobby of baking, and they were all decorated with fun santa’s or snowflakes or christmas trees.

he was even told to make a few blank cookies and bring spare icing for kids to decorate during their party stations.

when steve got to the classroom closer to the afternoon, it was still nap time for the 15 kids in the class, all curled up on small cots and bundled in blankets.

when he came in, billy was sitting at a table near the door, organizing strings by color and had stacks of paper and boxes of markers organized the same way.

“hargrove,” steve greeted, “i made cookies, didn’t know if there were any allergies, so they’re pretty plain, no chocolate or anything. and i didn’t decorate a few, like you asked,”

“thanks,” billy didn’t look up to him, still hunched over the table detangling strings. “‘can set ‘em over there,” billy vaguely gestured.

steve went to set them on a table with a fun, winter themed cover over it.

he came back to sit by billy at the craft table because he didn’t know what else to do. plus, he didn’t want to wake any sleeping children.

“so, why are you a pre-k teacher?” steve asked.

“getting straight to the point, huh?”

“well, you look like that,” steve gestured to his embellished leather jacket, the mullet, the tight jeans (not as tight anymore, he did have to get up and down off the floor), and the hefty black boots that could probably crush a kid’s tiny fingers. “and i haven’t heard about you going through a brain reset or something, so what’s up?”

“it’s the only thing i could find,” billy grunted, not liking this conversation.

“don’t teachers have to go to college like everyone else? and have to have like a specific thing that says they’re qualified to be a teacher? seems like an awful lot of work for this to be the only thing you could find,”

“well, i can boss four year olds around all day, who wouldn’t like that job?” billy countered.

steve went to respond when there was a creak heard from behind him. one of the kids, a young girl with a wild head of hair, was walking over to billy with her blanket still wrapped over her shoulders.

“hey, jeanie, what’s wrong, doll?” billy asked, drawing his eyes away from the tangled string, which he didn’t do when talking to steve. he was giving the girl— jeanie— his full attention.

“i woke up,” jeanie said as she made her way closer to billy, “i got nightmares,”

billy’s face turned sympathetic as he put his arms out for jeanie, allowing her to crawl into his lap and rest her head on his chest while he wrapped her tight in his arms.

“wanna tell me what it was about?” billy asked, but only got a shake of her head in return, “that’s ok, you can sleep for another 10 minutes, doll. you’re safe,”

she was cuddled up in his arms, poking at the dull spikes on his shoulders and the silver buttons around the jacket. she looked utterly peaceful as she started to doze off again.

billy was so gentle with the little girl, adjusting her in his arms, making sure she was stable in his lap, before moving one arm back to the string, as if doing it one armed would be easier than before.

“i can do it,” steve offered in a hushed tone, “the string. i can untangle it for you,”

billy slid the string ball over to steve’s side of the table and let him take a crack at it while he started rubbing jeanie’s back.

steve had managed to get the string ball undone in the 10 minutes of nap time they had left. the boys didn’t talk through those 10 minutes, but steve would sneak glances over at billy often.

billy, for someone who tried to run a group of kids over once upon a time, was really great with younger kids. he was able to keep jeanie asleep, even when he moved an arm or straightened his back, something steve couldn’t do with patrick.

another parent showed up right when nap time was going to end, carrying bags of board games and such.

two more parents showed after the kids had woken up, and soon the party was in full swing. the kids were having a delightful time, half of them covered in glitter and icing, but nothing a good bath won’t fix.

billy was thriving in the chaos of four year olds, making sure they were following directions but still having fun, keeping the morale up and excitement high.

the parents seemed to love him, from what steve heard. one parent, wendy, even said that she didn’t like billy to begin with, thought he would be irresponsible and mean, but her kid loves him.

billy, for as much of a big guy as he was, didn’t seem to tower over kids menacingly when standing at full height. and it didn’t seem taunting when he would crouch down. he was on their level, in many ways.

once parents started taking kids home at the end of the day, billy, steve, and patrick were left to help clean up, though patrick was knocked out on the multicolored rug, he’d used up a lot of energy that afternoon.

“so, what do you want me to do?” steve asked, watching billy sweep the floors.

“you can leave if you want, i’ve got it. plus, pat seems to be knocked out, huh?”

“he’s already sleeping, and i feel really bad leaving you to clean everything.”

billy sighed, looking around at the disaster that was his room, “could you start wiping down tables? clorox and paper towels are in the far right cabinet, second shelf,”

they got to work and the whole classroom was clean within the hour. billy was throwing his bag over his shoulder and steve was carrying patrick in his arms as they walked out to their cars.

“do you mind opening my door?” steve asked after many attempts to get patrick adjusted in his arms to move and open the back door.

billy moved over to open the back door of steve’s car before walking back over to his car, the same car he’d been driving since high school.

i guess people really never change, steve thought.

once he got patrick settled into his car seat and got the car running to warm it up before he drove home, steve stood and talked to billy for a few minutes. just casual conversation, a thanks from billy for steve’s help.

“would you, maybe, wanna go get a drink or something some time?” steve asked, awkward as ever.

the rest was history, steve and billy would see each other for a date every weekend and they’d wave to the other in the mornings and afternoons.

they had a similar situation when the spring party came, steve bringing decorated and undecorated cookies for the kids and showing up during their nap time.

but steve had something in his bag that he wouldn’t let billy see.

through the party, steve would bring the mystery item to each kid, making extra sure that billy never saw it.

even at their date that weekend, billy couldn’t get it out of steve to find out what it was.

at the very end of the year, they have another party (and steve does not remember his pre-k days, but he doesn’t think they had this many parties).

billy has been weird the past week, finally realizing that he’s not gonna see these kids often, if at all, anymore. he’d grown very attached.

but, in true billy manner, he refused to let anyone know he was upset about a bunch of toddlers.

that’s where steve’s secret came in handy.

you see, on that day of the spring party, steve had gotten a piece of paper and has each kid sign it in a different color. he’d brought it to a small shop and they’d been able to transfer it onto a patch, one for billy’s jacket.

it was scaled down to be the size of an index card, but all the names were still legible.

when they’d given it to billy at the end of the day, before kids went home, billy almost cried.

he loved the kids so much and loved the connection and impact they have had on him without him knowing. he’s gonna miss rocking jeanie to sleep three times a week because she can never stay asleep alone.

he’s gonna miss the chaos that this group of children, specifically, brought. they made his day great, even if he was feeling especially shitty.

they helped him feel good about himself. kids don’t lie, that’s for sure, and billy created such a strong bond with them that all their thanks and love will be forever ingrained onto his heart.

[writing-in-april]

Ghost Story

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader

Mood board is mine pictures were taken from Pinterest- Message me for credit.

This come from the wonderful @imagining-in-the-margins​ prompt list- go check her out she’s the best!

Warnings: One swear word- and if you’re super scared of ghost stories don’t read.

A/N: I’m really proud of this one! The ghost story is called whispers and I found it on the huffington post, it’s originally about Christmas but I changed it to fit Halloween (Even though it’s August- I’m just really ready for Halloween)

Masterlist

italics are the ghost story

——

“This is a story I do not often tell. I promise, sincerely, that this has scarred me for life and although I have looked into psychological explanations for what I heard and natural explanations for what occurred, they remain unsatisfactory.” Spencer’s voice cut through the air in a whisper. The pine green walls of our softly lit apartment gave me a sense of security that Spencer was actively trying to break as he relayed his ghost story.

It was nearly Halloween, the 28th of October to be exact, also known as Spencer’s birthday. Honestly it was the only reason I indulged in his request of reading a scary story, any other day of the year I would have flat out refused. So there I was perched on our leather sofa,  staring a hole into a slice of pumpkin pie that I had made for his special day trying to take my mind off of the story.

“When I was a child, I was scared of the dark. I swore to my mother I heard voices in it. They were not evil, but they were not familiar and so they scared me. It was not uncommon in the middle of the night for me to wake up and hear “whispers” as I would call them when asking my mom. She figured they were just “bumps in the night” and typical kids nightmare material. I tried often to explain to her that it was more than that; that they sounded different from one another the way people’s voices do. On some nights I would get so scared from these “whispers” that I would sleep in my mom’s bed with her.” I now understood why he was so eager to share a ghost story with me tonight, the story paralleled his own journey with his fear of the dark. We both had a shared sentiment of fear surrounding dark corners, but Spencer was far braver than I when it came to the dark, after all he saw the worst of humanity everyday at work.

“I should add at this point that when walking out into the hall to go to the bathroom, you looked directly down the stairs that would lead you into my living room on the first floor (as my mom’s bedroom was on the second floor). On one such night, around Halloween, I awoke and felt the need to go to the bathroom. I walked out from the door and distinctly heard the phrase “Look!” and to my astonishment, an orange light, almost like a spotlight, was cast upon the wall at the very bottom of the stairs. The light had no other source, it was by itself, and I was transfixed by it.” The inflection that he had adopted to tell the story chilled my bones, making me feel as if I was a skeleton in the dead of winter.

The pumpkin pie was no longer enough to stare at so my gaze wandered to the knickknacks that adorned the apartment. The spotlight in the story eerily mirrored the decorations we had strung up, the string of pumpkin lights basked us in an orange glow aiding in the creepy persona Spencer had taken up. Puppets in white shrouds, freshly carved jack o'lanterns, and handmade black construction paper bats also furnished our home to give the appropriate mood for Halloween. Spencer and I had spent a whole weekend that he had off from work decorating our apartment to the nines. I detested the horrifying aspects of Halloween, but that didn’t mean I hated the holiday. I reveled in the fact that for one day a year I could be someone else, letting my imagination take the reigns of my life even though it was only for a night.

“Being a little kid, and it only being a few days from Halloween, I KNEW what this light was. IT WAS JACK SKELLINGTON!!!My parents had just let me watch a Nightmare before Christmas, he must be visiting! I was so excited I began walking down the stairs to greet him, picking up my pace after the second step as it began to creep off the wall and fade into the darkness in my living room.” My heart felt stuck in my throat as I sat at the edge of the couch, anxiously awaiting the dreaded jump scare that I could feel creeping up around me. No matter how formulaic ghost stories tended to be I was still tricked every time getting sent into a state of fright, my body always getting a stab of panic and a jolt of terror.

“That’s when I heard him. A very strong, masculine voice. Different from the first. Not at all like my father’s (not to say he isn’t masculine, it was just distinctly different). It said, “Stop! Right now. Go back up those stairs.” I listened, turned around, and what happened next I am not sure I would believe if someone had told me this same story. After reaching the top of the stairs, I heard a very loud CRASH”  As If on cue from Spencer’s voice a loud clap of thunder shattered through our curtained windows, the sudden sound sent me cowering under my burgundy plush throw which swaddled me like a scared baby. My shaking form didn’t even notice that the story had stopped or that Spencer had retreated into the darkness. My eyes peeked out from under the blanket, the apartment was full of blackness- the power must’ve gone out. All I could see was the pale moonlight creeping through the drapery as my eyes darted trying to locate Spencer.

“Spencer?” I murmured into the shadows- no one answered back from the depths.

“Boo!” Spencer suddenly popped up behind the couch causing me to nearly jump out of my skin.

“Fuck! Spencer Walter Reid!” I picked up one of our pillows, chucking it in the direction where I believed him to be hiding. His shriek permeated the apartment as he shielded himself from my wrath with what appeared to be candles. He must’ve retreated to find candles we had stashed in our bathroom when the power shut off.

“Most power outages will be over almost as soon as they begin, but some can last much longer – up to days or even weeks. Power outages are often caused by freezing rain, sleet storms and/or high winds which damage power lines and equipment.” He spouted off at me to try and quell my anger while setting down candles on the coffee table preparing them to be lit. From out of his pocket Spencer produced a disposable lighter- I always let him handle them because my fingers often got burned on them. Stroking the wheel, the lighter sparked to life lighting the apartment once more, soothing my frazzled state.

“I guess that’s kind of comforting…”

“Do you want to hear the rest of the story?” The soft gleam of the candle flickered on my skin, illuminating the cringe that made its way onto my face.

“No thanks Spencer- I’d rather cuddle.” He flashed me a little stupid grin that I adored and joined me back on the couch. Spencer swathed the blanket around us settling into his position as the big spoon, the combined feeling of  my boyfriend and the velvet like blanket made me feel impervious to the outside world. I nuzzled against his neck sinking deeper into the sofa, letting the soft edges of sleep overtake me, Spencer had a way with cuddles that almost always immediately lulled me to sleep. Sometime later when our pumpkin pie had been long forgotten the lights flicked back on, the fluorescent bulbs combined with the still glowing candles lit our sleeping figures.

[arinbelle]

A Court of Witches and Warriors

Hello my lovelies, 

Or Happy Holidays if you don’t celebrate Christmas. Or Happy Friday if you do neither. I was holding onto this chapter for so long and planned to release it early Christmas morning, but then editing and plot and editing and more plot...so here we are. But also, I cranked out the last half and so I didn’t edit it...whoops. Will do tomorrow but I wanted to get this in today because I know it’s been sooooo long since I updated. As always, enjoy!

Warnings: Mature Language, not sure if there is anything else--mostly a lot of cursing

Tagging: @bookstantrash​ @sayosdreams​ @queenestarcheron​ @queenofbloodshed​ @cassianscool​ @courtofjurdan​ @allilal​ @greerlunna​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @moe8​

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Chapter 8- Cassian

Cassian knew something was wrong even before he opened his eyes. His dreams ,no nightmares, were of a different variety tonight. It wasn't Hybern. It wasn't Nesta covering her body over him, shuddering as death loomed for both of them. 

He was running from something- or rather, someone was running and he was seeing it all through their eyes. It was too hard to keep going. He kept tripping, cursing on his own lack of coordination. They, whoever they were, were getting too close and Cassian couldn't breathe. He needed help. He pleaded, begged, screamed for someone to help him.

Please,Cassian. Help.

But by then, Cassian was already wide awake. He gasped in the cold air, sweat-slicked skin turning the sheets cold under him, no longer hearing the cries from his nightmare asking him for help. 

He chanced a glance at the half shattered clock on the wall and noted that it was well into the night, but not late enough for him to get up and begin working. 

Damned nightmares.

He hadn't planned to stay overnight in Stonewalen,. In fact he hadn't even planned to stay more than a few hours. He had met with the camp lords- a meeting that went on for three hours, uselessly, with not one of them happy with the outcome. Just when Cassian had managed to bring the topic of the meeting back to the damages that had occurred throughout the town, something the reports still didn't clearly explain, the Lords each produced an excuse on being needed on the training grounds or other meetings.

Cassian was trying to fight the clippings that Stonewalen was still secretly practicing, as he had come to know from some of the girls discreetly. Meanwhile, the lords wanted to bicker about Rhys’ rule over the Illyrians, claiming that a full-blooded Illyrian, of noble birth they would add while glaring at him, could do much better for them all. They didn’t say they wouldn’t mind the same policy to apply to the position of Commander- they didn’t dare- but it was there in their sneers and backhanded jabs.

Then there was the assumption that Rhys’ hated the Illyrians and only ruled over them to help keep his military supplied. Cassian struggled with these claims the most, much more so than any against his capabilities as a Commander. Because the crux of the matter was...they were right.

Rhys looked down on the Illyrians-as did Azriel. Cassian had known this for the centuries he  had known his brothers. Each had their own beliefs about the Illyrians-beliefs that Cassian didn’t like to hear coming from two of the most important people in his life. More often than not, it ended with Cassian losing his temper and spitting out that Rhys had no right to believe such things when his own mother had loved her people so much. Azriel would quickly find somewhere else to be, and Rhys would apologize for offending Cassian. He would apologize to Cassian- not the desecration his words were creating against an entire culture, an entire people, of whom Rhys claimed a partial birthright to. Their spats ran in their own never-ending circles, never truly coming to a head and yet never fully resolving either- that theme, it would seem, continued in kind when it came to the Illyrians’ grievances against Rhys. Never any headway, never any compromise.

He found it difficult to deflect now more than ever though. The insinuations that he wasn’t good enough to lead them in battle- that Rhys wasn’t good enough to lead them at all. He had lost so many soldiers in the war. Deserted them, mid-battle. It was practically a crime in its own right, to leave your unit behind. Especially when they were all murdered and the deserter survived. If Cassian hadn’t been the Commander there would have been no forgiveness spared for him. He would have been thrown out of the armies...or worse.

Even with all that had gone on during the day, Cassian knew this feeling wasn’t a result of it. This feeling of trepidation that Cassian had awoken with wouldn’t let go of him, and it squeezed his insides tightly in a phantom vice, choking all sense and reason away.

Something’s wrong. Really, really wrong.

But what exactly it could be, Cassian had no idea. His first thought had been Nesta. When he had awoken he could have sworn he could scent her on the air around him, on his very skin- fire and steel and a hint of something sweet and lovely that he couldn't quite place. Nesta was fine though- safe in Windhaven, being watched over by Cilla and Taliq. He'd told them not to be too obvious about it, even though he knew neither were capable of such a thing. His house was safe too, with wards that had lasted decades after being placed. They were a culmination of his own glamours, Rhys' High Lord powers, Mor's gifts, Azriel's watchful shadows, and whatever the hell Amren was capable of. No, the house was definitely safe. Nesta was safe. She was.

And yet...

He had felt something akin to this riotous gloom before, even if not to this degree. When Nesta had demanded they all leave the High Lords' meeting because as she'd said it, something was wrong.

That had been right before the Wall had come down. She had been nauseated and uncomfortable, hurting with whatever unearthly powers the Cauldron was wreaking lands away from them- and he had felt it too. It was like a layer of fabric between them, shielding him from the brunt of her pain, but not all of it. Her doubts, her fears, the panic, the nausea, he could feel all of them as wholly her, and yet his system couldn’t help but reject such a thought. 

It’s not just her. It’s us. Help her.

Except this time, Nesta was not in the next room over, with Feyre at her side, and Rhysand and Azriel beside him to take charge should any problems arise. So he stayed upright in the small cot he had graciously accepted, waiting and waiting. The meeting hall was by no means glamorous, and the one room upstairs that had previously been occupied by a retired war general was not the best accommodation. But it was given to him without complaint by the head camp lord, generously even, considering the Illyrians of Stonewalen liked him even less than the ones in Windhaven. 

Cassian waited for some signal, a warning, a goddamn earthquake or even a tremble in the air-but nothing came. He was just about to fall backwards into the cot and get some precious hours of sleep, resting up before starting a new wretched day of meetings, when he heard a knock on the door. He had expected it to some degree, even when he kept telling himself everything was fine. But when he pulled open the door and saw Fieala and not a warrior instead, it took him a few seconds to throw off the surprise.

“Fieala?,”

The female did not smile, did not greet him warmly as she had all the times before, and it was all the confirmation he needed that something had happened.

She gave short nod before speaking, "Commander. I’m sorry to disturb you in the middle of your sleep, but...do you know a Nesta Archeron?”

He didn’t even bother to respond, didn’t even bother with a coat, as he threw on his boots and began running down the stairs of the unused meeting hall, Fieala fast on his tail.

“She’s at the tavern,” Fieala shouted from behind him as they left the building, the howling wind blowing dangerouly around them. Still Cassian did not slow his running, and to Fiela’s credit, she did not fall behind him too much.

Cassian didn’t think as he wrenched open the door to the tavern and every pair of eyes in the room locked onto him. Hungry wolves was what they reminded him of. Fieala was one thing-an Illyrian female married to a male who had earned honor and glory on the battlefield before he passed. She was respected to some degree. Nesta on the other hand-he didn’t want to think of her in a place like this with the way the males in the room were surveying him. How they would have treated Nesta...

“Oh damn you boy. Wait!,” Fieala finally entered the tavern, growling each syllable as she stalked forward to block his path. 

“Take me to her,” Cassian demanded, Nesta’s scent still on the air and now filling his lungs.

Fieala huffed a sigh, her brows bunching in the middle in the way they did before she often scolded him for skipping meals. "Don't you dare go in their with your snarling, and don't ever give me an order in my tavern again child. That girl is terrified and I couldn't get more than a few words out of her after I sat her down. I'll not have you sending her spiraling into something worse."

Cassian tried then, to calm himself and the panic threatening to consume him. For her sake, if nothing else. Once Fieala deemed him adequate enough to take to Nesta, she gestured for him to follow, and they walked towards the back of the room into what Cassian assumed would lead to the kitchens. He didn't know what to expect as she opened a final door and led him into a back office.

He didn't even see her at first, looking around the large room for some sign of life to match the racing heartbeat he was definitely hearing from nearby. Cassian heard a shuddering breath and he whirled around to the corner where it had come from.

Nesta sat with her head down and gathered in her hands-coiled in on herself-and for a second, Cassian forgot how to breathe. When he did, it made too much noise for Nesta to remain unaware.

Eyes that reminded Cassian of faraway shores and thunderstorms met his, and they widened- in pain or fear, he didn't know.

He took a step towards her only to have her flinch and scramble to move backwards. He ignored how it felt when she did that, moving in fear of him. It was like someone was cutting into his chest with a rusted blade, except that would have hurt less. They both realized when her back hit the stone wall behind her that there was nowhere for her to go . He'd dealt with animals baring teeth in defense when he had gone hunting in the Steppes. He knew how to push and also when to pull back. And right now, Nesta was running on pure instinct and adrenaline alone. Invading her space would only serve to spook her further.

He put up his hands, palms empty of weapons, and bent his knees to meet her eyes better, trying again. He did not move forward yet, hoping the placating gestures would be enough.

"Nesta, it's me. Cassian," he said to her, fighting to keep his voice measured so she didn't hear how torn he was inside. Terrified didn’t even begin to cover the range of his emotions.

She didn't respond, choosing to take him in instead, never breaking contact with his eyes. He began to move.

One step forward.

A delicate fluttering happened in the column of her throat but she did not move away.

A second step then.

Her eyes gained a hint of clarity and sharpness. Not at the level he was used to getting from her, but it was still something.

His third and final step towards her had him at two feet of distance between them.

She did not balk from him now despite their proximity and he took it as a good sign, even if she hadn't spoken yet. He moved on instinct alone then, tucking in his wings as tight as possible and getting down on both his knees in front of her seated form. He rested his palms flat on his thighs, careful to keep his movements slow and obvious.

"Nesta," he repeated again, hoping for something, anything, to hint at what was going on in her mind.

She didn't say anything for a few minutes, content to just stare at him with her haunted eyes. Just when Cassian thought he would need to perhaps contact a healer, maybe even Feyre, Nesta moved. Her small hand came up from underneath the folds of her coat- a coat he had never seen before- and moved towards his face.

Cassian didn't stop her as she traced his brow and down the arch of his cheekbones. Her fingers lightly danced over the bridge of his nose and then rested across his sealed lips. He couldn't help it then as he pressed his lips up to kiss the tips of her icy fingers that were still on his heated skin. She didn't jump at the contact though, didn't even move her hand from his lips. He brought his hand up to hold hers then, folding her delicate fingers under his own and brushing a second, brief kiss across her knuckles. That woke her up.

"Cassian," she whispered, reality settling back into her as horror swept over her features.

"I'm right here sweetheart.”

She drew closer at his words, close enough for him to feel her breath on his face as she said, “You weren’t though. You were gone.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He had come to Stonewalen, that was true, but he wasn’t sure what she meant by gone. Perhaps she was still in shock, and confused. She seemed to take his silence as answer enough as she continued on.

“You left me,” she whispered, tears lining her eyes.

It took every bit of steel in his bones to not cripple at the remark, at the truth she had revealed. He had run like a coward after their fight. Hadn’t known how to process any of it properly. When the message came from Rhys that dissent in Stonewalen had taken a nasty turn, he had leapt at the opportunity. Not to escape her, never her. No, he had needed space from...their space. The distance that had grown between them since after the war, and then even more since she had come to live with him. Their fight and the manifestation of her powers had seemed to him a final wrecking of whatever their relationship had been or could have been. So he had left- left her in the process it seemed. Selfish. He had been so selfish. And now she was hurt because he hadn’t been there to protect her. 

Cassian had to push down every instinct in him that wanted to throw himself completely at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. Scream his apology over and over, and ask if he should cut out his heart in penance if it would make her now fully flowing tears stop. But Nesta would never accept that from him, even if at this moment she looked like one wrong word from him may shatter her.

He curled his fingers into fists to stop himself from wiping away her tears, unsure of how she would take that coming from him. He settled instead on asking, "Are you hurt?"

Please say no. Please.

"No."

He expelled a sigh of relief and moved to get up then, her hand still in his pulling her along.

She didn't let go.

He didn't either as he led her out of the small back office into the main kitchen area, where Fieala was waiting for them.

Fieala assessed Nesta with her sharp eyes, lingering on their joined hands longer than necessary, before addressing him.

"I have an empty room upstairs and it’s yours. I'll not have the girl sleeping in that ramshackle space you insist on using when you come here."

Cassian would have argued if it were just him. Fieala had always treated him like a child in need of a scolding when he came to the camp. She insisted he take a room at the tavern but he always refused. Him staying there wouldn't do any good for her business considering how everyone else in the camp hated him. But Nesta was not him and Fieala was right- she shouldn't stay in small annexed room above the meeting hall. Nesta deserved a comfortable bed and some solid sleep before anything else.

Cassian nodded but looked to Nesta for a response. She gave none but her red-rimmed eyes were no longer dropping tears down her cheeks.

"Do you want me to take you back to the house in Windhaven Nesta?" he asked, hoping to gain some clarity on what she needed in the moment.

She shook her head, eyes downcast on the floor, but her fingers tightened around his.

If he were wishful and foolish he would have taken the gesture to mean she didn't want him to leave her. He knew that wasn’t the case, but he could believe it in the privacy of his thoughts.

They followed Fieala up the stairs only to stop cold when she revealed a room with a solitary bed inside.

Somewhere up the flight of stairs, Nesta had let go of his hand and he felt lost without it.

"Aren't there any rooms with two separate beds?," he managed to choke out.

Fieala looked at him, then Nesta, and then at the space between them where their hands had been joined.

"Oh I thought the two of you..."

There was a pregnant silence between the three of them and Cassian cursed all the Gods that had made him end up in such an awkward position. Fieala cleared her throat and in a stronger voice told him," No that's all I have left tonight."

Nesta hadn't said a word during the entire exchange and Cassian chose to take it as a sign that it wasn't an outright refusal. She needed rest- he'd take the gods-damned floor if she needed but he wasn't leaving her alone for the few hours left until sunrise. He realized Fieala was still waiting for an answer so he told her that they would see her in the morning. She looked at Nesta once more, but to his relief didn't say anything else before bidding them goodnight and shuffling away.

Nesta crossed the threshold to the room first until she stood at the side of the bed. Even through her thick fur coat he could see the stiffening of her spine at whatever new perceived threat she had found.

He did try for her sake, to close the door as softly as possible when he followed her inside. But the click of the lock had her whirling sharply towards him, eyes widening in terror as her entire body jerked backwards and fell onto the bed.

He moved forward to catch her but his movement had her let out a shrill scream as she pushed herself farther and farther away from him. She stopped when her spine hit the headboard, but that furious gaze of contempt and alarm did not waver.

She was afraid...of him. He tried not to let that hurt show on his face, sighing instead and creeping along the wall until he reached the armchair at the edge of the room. The farthest he could place himself from her.

He slowly unfurled his wings as he sank down onto the leather armchair, tipped his head back and closed his eyes languidly. The picture of calm. If she needed reassurance that he wasn’t about to leap up and hurt her, he hoped this exaggerated display of methodical movement would do the trick. 

He had hoped him feigning sleep would be enough for her to actually go on and do the real thing. But he did not hear any movement from her to indicate that she had decided to sink down into the covers and rest.

An hour passed.

Then two.

And still she did not stop her unending vigil, perhaps watching him, perhaps watching the door. He didn’t want to open his eyes and startle her but he desperately wanted to see her- assure his eyes and soul that she was whole, safe with him for the present moment. He did not move even when a nasty little crick began to form in his neck and his legs felt numb.

It must have been half an hour later, with Cassian sure his limbs would never recover, that he heard a soft rustle of cloth moving on cloth and the dull thud of it landing on the bed. She was taking her coat off. He heard the sigh of the covers being pushed back and Nesta finally settling underneath them. Still he did not move until her heartbeat slowed and her breathing evened.

As he carefully rolled out his stiff neck and rose from his cramped position, he slid his eyes over her sleeping form. He could see her hair, still in a tight coronet, but the rest of her was under the blankets. Unsure of what to do with all of the energy he now was suddenly feeling, he began walking back and forth to help the soreness he would surely feel later. Every few minutes he would stop at the foot of the bed to make sure he hadn’t made too much noise and woken her up.

But Nesta did not wake even when the sun rose above the peaks in the east, or when the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread entered the room from the kitchens below.

Cassian sat back down in the armchair and waited for her to get up herself...except she didn’t. Another hour passed and Cassian was getting restless. He needed to know what the hell had happened yesterday. If she was okay, even though he knew physically she was fine with how easily she was sleeping currently. His proclivity to being an early riser was a side effect of the years of training in the camps, and it was something Cassian knew most people did not share. Nesta was clearly no exception to the rule.

“Nesta.”

Nothing.

“Nesta,” he said a little louder this time.

He saw her stir, some lose tendrils of her hair snagging into the blankets piled over her, but she did not move any more.

“Damn it, Nes,” he muttered to himself as he stalked forward until he was right next to the head of the bed. She’d kill him for this one, he knew she would, but he needed her up. He needed to get some food in her, figure out the situation with the war council meeting happening later on, and perhaps set a new date for it if Nesta wanted to return to Windhaven.

One breath. Two.

“Nesta,” he barked.

She gasped and surged forward, blankets falling off of her and pooling around her waist. He thought to reach out a hand and steady her, but if her behavior last night was any indication of how she was feeling right now, proximity would not bode well. In that spirit, he took a step back now that he had her attention, which was in the form of steely blue eyes hardened in anger and solely focused on him.

“I’m sorry,” he said before she could begin cutting into him for ruining her sleep.

“I needed to talk to you and...I need to know what happened yesterday Nesta.” 

The anger in her eyes dissipated just as quickly as it had been summoned forth. How easily he could affect her moods with his actions and words never failed to amaze him- she had the same effect on him.

"Nesta please," he implored her.

She blinked a few times, as if still slightly dazed but then asked him, "What do you need to know?."

Her voice was hoarse from sleep and he asked her if she needed water first. Unsurprisingly, she refused.

He started with the most obvious question, "How did you get here?"

She sucked in a sharp breath and he worried that perhaps it was the wrong thing to ask.

"I don't know," she admitted honestly.

He ran a hand through his snarled hair, and then once over his face in a pathetic attempt to wake him up from a shitty night's lack of sleep.

"Tell me where you were right before then if you don't know how you got here."

She swallowed and cast her eyes to the ground, no longer as willing.

"Nesta-"

"I'll tell you," she remarked sharply, before adding in a quieter voice," I just need a minute to think."

He nodded even though his nerves were completely shot. He needed to know what had frightened her so much yesterday and what had caused her to appear here. He had a feeling he knew the how, having winnowed in with Rhys or Mor on more than one occasion. The why though...that remained to be revealed to him.

"I was at Emerie's store. I was supposed to buy some warmer clothes with Cilla but I didn't want to bother her. And after training I was feeling better and it wasn't that late so I"

He couldn't help but interrupt her and ask, "What do you mean you were feeling better after training? What happened at training?"

Nesta's eyes widened just a fraction but it was enough to tell him the answer was nothing good. Or would have been if Nesta had chosen to answer- which she didn't. She just shook her head and continued on with her own story.

"I went to her shop, I got the coat," she pointed to the pretty heap of fur at the foot of the bed. 

“I left her store and started walking back to your house. And that’s when...they came.”

“Who came?”

She bit her lip again and he thought he might have to prompt her again to continue. Remind her where they were, who he was, as her eyes got a glassy faraway look to them.

"I don't know who they were. I think I counted five of them. Males...they...followed me. I tried not to panic but then they said some things and then I just started running."

Cassian felt a noose tighten around his neck and had to stop himself from clawing at his throat. Had she made it away on time? He doubted it considering Nesta didn't train and a group of males like that, gathering in groups late into the night...his own soldiers. Horror crept into his features as he studied her again, saw no bruising or dried blood visibly. She looked fine- shaken, but fine. Except there was no way in hell she outran them and Cassian knew exactly what they had wanted from her and Nesta-

"I got away on time, stop your panicking," she snapped.

Fierce blue eyes met hazel then and he could have sworn he felt the earth tremor in response.

"Are you telling the truth or is that just for my benefit?"

She hissed back, "Having to recount all of this to you is not for your benefit, trust me. It's in no one's benefit. Can we drop it now?"

"No. Tell me what happened next," he told her sternly, before hastily adding in, "Please."

She looked like she was ready to swing at him. He didn't really mind as long as he told her she truly hadn't been harmed by the Illyrians. Then he'd have to go find them, somehow identify them, and kill them discreetly.

"I couldn't outrun them."

I figured you wouldn't.

"I tried to get to the house. Just get to the house, I kept telling myself. They wouldn't get into the house with the wardings."

Smart girl.

"But I just couldn't after a while and I...I gave up. I thought maybe I'll scream but I knew no one would come anyways."

They wouldn't have.

"So I just stopped and I just kept thinking over and over that I wanted to get away from them. Or maybe I was screaming for someone to help me even though I knew no one was coming for me."

I'm so sorry.

She laughed bitterly, "No one ever does come to save me. I've learned that time and time again. Don't know why I'm so shocked by it every time."

I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you.

"And then I was just...here. I don't know how," she told him. It was honest, it was to the point, and Cassian knew she was leaving a good chunk of the truth out. What they had likely said to her as they chased her, how scared she must have been, how disorienting it probably felt to show up in a completely different town within mere seconds.

"Did you see their faces? What color Siphons if they had any?"

She shook her head in denial but he had figured as much. Even if she had been looking at them, which wouldn't have helped her run away, it was dark and whatever she may have seen could easily have been the work of shadows. He knew she wasn't going to say anything more to him until she was ready so he decided to change the topic.

"Alright. Are you hungry?"

Nesta looked up at him incredulously and he couldn't help but huff a small laugh.

He explained as he grabbed his shoes and put them on, "You won't tell me anymore anyways. I'm not going to bother you by asking over and over again. So let's go eat."

To his surprise, Nesta was surprisingly compliant as she followed him out of the room and down to the now busying tavern. Breakfast was being prepared by one of of the serving girls that worked for Fieala, and after a quick greeting she told them where to find her.

Fieala it seemed, had been expecting them. She didn't bother with a "Good morning" as they filed into her now busy kitchen, avoiding the cooks and serving girls running around. A feast of eggs, cheeses, pastries, and toast was put off to one side of the working table and Fieala gestured to it as she took them in, eyes sweeping over Nesta before turning back to whatever stew she was preparing.

Cassian grabbed them both a plate, filling each with a heaping amount of food for his and a generous serving on hers that he knew she still couldn't fully finish.

Fiela told them to take their food into the office or outside with the other patrons, and Nesta wordlessly walked into the office in response. Fieala shared a look of concern with him but he followed Nesta anyways. She was in no shape to be around more people than necessary. He understood that, even if it worried the hell out of him.

They ate silently across from each other, Nesta barely taking bites fit for a toddler.

“You’ll need your energy today after what you did last night.”

Sharp eyes assessed him at the comment, but she didn’t stop chewing to his relief. 

“Do you know how I got here then?,” she asked quietly, pushing her eggs around on the plate, to busy her hands he suspected.

“I think you winnowed,” he told her honestly.

“I didn’t.”

He couldn’t hide the surprise on his face even if he wanted to. He waited for her to elaborate, but of course she didn’t. He’d never been one for cryptic comments and no explanations-that was more Rhys and Amren’s forte. It seemed Nesta seemed to share in the trait, or perhaps she had learned it from the small lady she had once been friends with. 

When the silence stretched out longer than he had expected, he gritted out, “Can you please explain?.”

“No.” 

And with that final remark she pushed out of her chair and left him alone. Her plate of barely eaten food seemed to mock him in her absence- another failure of his towards her.

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

After finishing his breakfast alone Cassian stalked back up the rickety tavern steps to the room they had stayed in the night before. To his relief, Nesta was in the room and hadn’t wandered off somewhere to avoid his probing questions.

She didn’t look up when he entered, content to sit in the armchair in the corner and stare out the window at the town below.

“I have to go to a meeting with some of the camp lords. Would you like to attend?” he asked cautiously, unsure if she would even bother answering.

Nesta didn’t give any indication that she had heard him, didn’t even blink at his sudden interruption to her avid assessment of the view outside her window. He tried not to feel irritation at her silence, knowing full well that her night had been hellish.

Just talk to me damn it!

“No! I don’t want to come with you. Now can you please leave me alone? I don’t have to talk to you about anything,” she snarled, finally facing him.

He looked away from her furious face, those beautiful eyes glinting dangerously bright. Bright, but not the quicksilver that he had seen sparingly when her temper and powers came out completely. That was a good thing he supposed, as he didn’t know if the building could take it if her powers made an appearance again. The destruction…

“Is there something else you need? I thought you had a meeting to go to,” she snapped at him, ending his tumultuous thoughts on Nesta’s mysterious powers.

He knew he would regret it later, giving into his anger and lashing out at her, but he couldn’t help the words as they passed his lips.

“I am. Some of us have actual jobs to do Nesta. Let me know if you ever want to give responsibilities a try.”

With that vicious retort he slammed the door on his way out, not bothering to see if his words had gotten a reaction out of her. They probably had and he would definitely hate himself for it later.

As he walked into the meeting hall, indeed it was regret that coated his mouth in a bitter taste, making him want to never speak to anyone again lest his words inflict more damage. Guilt coursed through his veins as he took a seat at the half-filled table.

No one made any attempt to greet him, to indicate they acknowledged his presence. He was the highest ranked male in the room and they didn’t even bother following proper protocol to salute him. He never gave a shit before anyways, so he ignored it, ignored all of them too. Nesta was still on his mind when the final camp leader took his seat, and the two guards at the entrance closed the double doors.

Cassian didn’t realize at first that the silence he was hearing was in anticipation for him to begin the meeting. He took his time, shuffling papers around in front of him, eyes pretending to scan the pages he had read and almost memorized at this point hours ago. He put Nesta to the back of his mind, ignored everything in him that didn’t want to commit such a sin, and pulled on the mask of the Commander.

His voice was cold, even to his own ears, but it didn’t stop him as he began.

“Let me start off by making something clear. I understand your frustrations, even if I may disagree with them, but I am not here to discuss the High Lord or how he is running his territory. I am here about reports I received regarding dissent in Stonewalen. Someone tell me the details because this bullshit report doesn’t tell me anything useful.”

A few of the lords’ sons flinched as he raised his voice, their fathers opting to occupy their gaze on anything around them besides his hard stare.

Lord Salez finally spoke up, “Two days ago, there was a protest sometime around midday. We were in the middle of training in the rings, some of the legions were practicing aerial technique, and then at noon a good chunk of soldiers, all at once, just stopped.”

“Stopped? Stopped training?,” Cassian asked incredulously.

“Yes. They just walked off the rings, or dropped from the air and took to the streets.”

“For what reason?,” Cassian snarled.

“They said they had no reason to train for a High Lord who didn’t care for them. No reason to follow orders by a bastard that left his soldiers to die in the midst of battle for a female that isn’t even his. Then they started attacking any place of business that creates weapons, uniforms, shields. They said that if anyone continued to work with supplying the High Lord’s army, they’d return and do worse. There was...much blood spilled.”

Cassian was stunned. He hadn’t known that people had been hurt, that the damage had been so extensive. His message from Rhysand had been concise- and clearly uninformed Cassian was realizing.

Cassian thought about it for a moment- what had been presented to him and what his expected response should be. He noticed that while Salez had bothered to tell Cassian what had happened, had mentioned people being injured, he had done so without a drop of emotion.

Leveling a vicious gaze onto the camp lord Cassian asked, "And where were you when all of this was happening?"

Silence.

A hint of panic was there and gone on Salez's face and the worry was even more pronounced on the other males' faces.

"That's answer enough for me. The next time you want to pin riots on soldiers that you ordered to attack innocent-"

One of the lordlings piped up, interrupting Cassian, "We did no such thing. Go and find someone who says otherwise, but until then don't accuse those who are above your station bastard."

Cassian didn’t hesitate as he shot up from his seat, Siphons throwing ruby flickers all around, and flared out his wings until the muscles burned. He must have looked horrifying.

Good.

The male- practically a youngling- cowered into his seat and a male to his left, Cassian assumed to be his father, rose up to face him.

“He meant no harm Commander. Forgive him. He is still a youngling. He doesn’t know when to speak and when to keep his mouth shut.” The last part of the sentence was growled at to his son, who was now looking into his lap, face stricken of blood.

Cassian did not let up, did not grant any acceptance to the apology. Instead he walked to the doors of the meeting hall and called out behind his shoulder, “Females are to train within an hour. Let whoever coordinates their training know that it’s an order from me. Salez- you’re coming with me to the training grounds.”

He did not wait for a response as he stormed outside, briskly walking towards where he knew training would now be starting. He heart Salez running to keep up but he did not slow down. 

Cassian had to give the soldiers credit for not balking as he stalked onto the training grounds. In fact, if he weren’t so pissed, he’d be impressed at how none of them stopped whatever exercise they were doing, sliding a quick glance and nod to him before returning to their work. 

Salez finally caught up to Cassian and huffed in irritation, but made no other gesture of complaint. Wise of him, Cassian decided, considering his worsening mood.

“You’re going to point out every single soldier you remember from the riots to me,” he told Salez.

“I wouldn’t possibly be able to-“

Cassian growled, “I said the ones you remember Salez, not all of them. Don’t make me ask again.”

Salez sighed in defeat and called out for the soldiers to halt their training and file into their formations by legions. Once they were situated he began pointing at various soldiers, some that Cassian vaguely recognized and others that he did not.

“Tell them to come forward,” Cassian commanded. Salez looked over at Cassian in alarm but obeyed. One by one, the names of the males that Salez had called walked forward until Cassian counted approximately twenty males in front of him.

Cassian spoke quietly, his voice laced in enough fury to forego the need to roar, “This is it? This is the lot that managed to vandalize almost every store in the town and beat up innocent shopkeepers?”

He walked up to them then and faced the one who seemed to be eyeing him with the most hatred. A familiar face, albeit a nameless one. He had the same face as one of the Lords in the meeting Cassian had walked away from. The same beady, black eyes squinting in anger and disgust up at him.

“And who are you soldier?.”

“My name is Calis.”

The male did not call him Commander, did not salute him or bow his head in respect. He had balls, Cassian would give him that much.

“And why is it Calis,” Cassian spat out, “that you felt the need yesterday to leave your training and become a menace to your own townspeople?”

Calis seemed to realize the gravity of the situation, and any bravado he may have had before seemed to wither up and recoil, as did his wings. But he did answer back.

“We do not want to be soldiers for a leader who needs us as nothing more than fodder, for wars against enemies that are not ours. We do not take orders from a High Fae half-breed-“

That was it. Cassian grabbed Calis by the collar and threw him into the mud facedown. The air left the male’s lungs in a mighty whoosh at the fall, and Cassian backed up until he was in the center of the rings.

“Listen up,” he roared now. The soldiers obediently faced him.

“Right now, you do not take orders from the High Lord of the Night Court. Right now, we are not at war. Right now, you take orders from me. The next time you whelps feel the need to break some bones, you come to me. You do not attack innocents who have done nothing wrong. You have an issue with the commands coming from me, you do not threaten shopkeepers who are making an honest living. After I am done here, the males in front of me are going to go to the shops they vandalized and help with repairs. And until every single repair is finished and businesses can go back to normal, not one of you will be continuing to train.”

Cries of outrage reached Cassian’s ears and he put up his palms and flared his wings wider until there was silence again.

“Understand, that when a small group of you acts up and does idiotic things like this,” he pointed at Cal, “the entire lot suffers. Yes I do know what this means, I don’t need you all to complain to me. This means that you will not have to train for the High Lord you so dreadfully hate. And in turn, you will fall viciously behind in your training for the Blood Rite in comparison to the other camps. Let this be a lesson for all of you to never try something like this again. The next time I have to come here for anything other than overseeing training, I will be breaking bones. I will be causing havoc that the likes of you have never even imagined possible. This little mess you think you’ve created will be child’s play compared to what I will do to you. All of you.”

With that final remark Cassian turned around, telling Salez to get the girls into the training rings.

Salez retorted back, "I thought all training was to halt until repairs are made Commander.”

A wicked smile danced on Cassian’s lips as he approached the camp lord. Surveyed the sweat beading on his brow at questioning an order from his General.

“I was talking to the soldiers with us here right now. The females were not grouped into that order.”

Cassian spoke louder then so anyone nearby would easily hear, “The females will be training everyday, even if the soldiers are not. And if I hear one more report about clippings from Stonewalen again-and make no mistake I will know- I will personally revisit and rip your fucking wings out Salez.”

Salez turned ashen and stammered, “Why...why me? I haven’t done anything-”

“That’s right. You’re the head camp lord and you haven’t done anything to keep this town in order. You are the authority when I am not here. Any illegal activity falls under your jurisdiction. I’m not saying you’re special Salez. I’ll rip out the wings of the ones who did the clippings as well. You’ll just be joining them too. Is that clear enough now?” Cassian cocked his head after he asked his question. The lord who seemed to be seconds from collapsing on the ground in front of him gave hurried nod as an answer.

Cassian didn’t say anymore as he walked off the rings and began his journey back to the tavern. Only to stop once more as he saw Nesta on the edge of grounds, looking straight at him. How long had she been standing there, witness to him unleashing his fury on the soldiers under his command? There were no traces of fear on her face though, no disgust at the brutal threats he had lodged forth on the males behind him. She made no move to approach him, but also did not leave when he began walking towards her.

Finally he was in front of her, and she craned her neck up to see him, her lovely face so out of place against the harsh backdrop of the town behind her.

“Are you done here?” she asked softly, no trace of the anger he knew he had left her simmering in from their earlier spat.

He hesitated before answering, unsure of whether she meant with the camp itself or work. He didn’t want to stay any longer anyways even if he had planned to do so moments before. Having Nesta in front of him made him want to leave everything behind and just follow wherever she wanted to be.

“Yes I’m done here sweetheart. We can go back to Windhaven now.”

She nodded up at him and then wordlessly extended her hand between them. He didn’t hesitate to slide his palm into hers, bronze meeting ivory. He had craved her touch for so long after last night, when she had dropped his hand as they had walked up the room in the tavern.

She looked at their clasped hands for a moment before tightening her grip and stepping closer, until her coronet grazed the Siphon on his chest.

And then he was falling, falling, falling. 

Cassian would have been convinced he was losing his mind had he not felt Nesta’s warm body pressed into his front, their hands still firmly gripping each other. As soon as it had begun though, it was over, and Cassian groaned as his back hit solid ground. Nesta was lying across him, her legs between his, and if the situation weren’t so bizarre he would have tried to enjoy just how closely pressed they were. To his amazement, Nesta did not move off of him right away, and Cassian’s hand moved of its own accord as he tucked a stray tendril of her hair behind her ear. He did not move his hand from where it rested on her collarbone now, fingers still wrapped around her hair, and she did not make him.

“Nesta,” Cassian breathed out, his fingers lightly grazing her pulse point.

She jerked in his grasp and pushed up and off of him, dusting herself off a good five feet away from him.

He quickly got to his feet too and looked around. He recognized the field- one he often used to train alone in on the outskirts of Windhaven’s border. Not many came this deep into the forest in fear of whatever prowled around it at night. But Cassian had lived here for centuries now and knew this particular meadow was a perfectly safe place to visit in Windhaven.

Windhaven.

Windhaven. Holy shit.

“You did it again!”

Nesta gave a scoff before nodding her head in agreement.

She said, “You see what I mean though? That’s not winnowing. It feels...different.”

He did. He told her as such. He knew now what she was trying to explain earlier. What she hadn’t been able to put properly into words. It was the same idea as winnowing, but the feeling of the magic that supplied it was different from what Rhys and Mor did. Even Azriel’s form of moving with the shadows was different from whatever this was.

She bit her lip before asking him, “Do you...do you know what it is then?”

Cassian couldn’t help the smirk that he sent her way as he answered, “I do.”

Nesta waited for him to respond but he was too giddy on the revelation that he had just uncovered. She huffed in irritation, “Well?”

He walked up to her until they were back in the same position as they had been right before Nesta had brought them here. 

He unfurled his wings and held out his hand now for her to take. She took it without complaint, but pursed her lips in confusion.

Right before he took to the skies, he looked down at her in his arms and told her with a grin, “There’s something I need to show you.”

[vexfulfolly]

The Fondest Memories

hi @cosmicpines I was your gifter for @codesecretsanta!!! I hope you enjoy!

It seemed like a great idea, bringing Aelita into the real world and enrolling her at their school. It wasn’t like they didn’t have time to plan things out— to make sure her transition was as smooth as possible— because they had plenty of time to do so. Whether or not that time was spent agonizing over details that were practically meaningless until confronted later. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there was their daily motto for almost an entire year. 

So they weren’t exactly thinking it all the way through when they created Aelita’s new identity. At a glance, it was watertight. No one would dare to look too deep into anyone associated with the de la Robbias. Looking at Odd’s records was an absolute mess, so why even bother with Aelita’s? 

It was a quick way to get her in the door and out of deep scrutiny, but that in and of itself presented problems. Like right now. It was a month before winter break and each warrior’s family was making plans to bring their children home for the holidays. Except Aelita. 

As it stood, there were only two viable options; someone had to take Aelita home with them (which would be the markedly tougher option), or someone would have to stay behind with her. Despite being somewhat acclimated to Earth, she was still wobbling on fawn-like legs during social situations. Or most situations, granted she was unsupervised. 

Which was what brought everyone together on a crisp afternoon in early November, piled into Jérémie’s room and in deep discussion.

“I hate to say it, but I can’t stay,” Jérémie sighed. “My parents have already booked a flight for me. They thought having a tropical Christmas would be a good idea for some reason.” 

To add insult to injury, he sounded truly apologetic. 

“I’ll be around the corner, but granted I don’t stay at the dorms anyway, my parents definitely won’t take well to me “sneaking off” during family time,” Yumi grimaced, making sure her displeasure over the last few words was clear. 

If the rest of the conversation went as positively as this first two minutes had, they were all screwed. The only two people that remained were Odd and Ulrich— the two people most likely to want to stay at Kadic through the break. 

Odd snorted. “My parents won’t even notice if I’m here or there, but they did book train tickets. If I never showed, they wouldn’t care. So, what say you, good buddy? Am I staying behind or have you already worked it out?” 

Every eye fell on Ulrich in anticipation. 

“I’m staying,” he said simply. 

He was met with several sighs of relief, and one disappointed Odd. “You’re really gonna make me go?” He pouted, though it sounded more like a demand. 

“Yeah, otherwise Jim will get suspicious of too many of us staying behind. Besides, you’ll be able to let Kiwi play in the snow without worrying about getting caught.” 

The resulting whine from the blonde was a cross between exasperation and resignation, and Ulrich had never heard a sound so sweet. Aelita decided she’d make presence known at that point, carefully patting the blonde on the back as he grumbled. “Well, what do you even do over a break? Especially the winter one?” She asked. 

Ulrich shrugged. “Winter stuff.” 

The topic was dropped. 

The first day of the winter break was reserved exclusively for seeing the gang off. Most kids were heading home, though a teeny-tiny minority stayed behind. Ulrich and Aelita were now a part of that minority. 

By the time everyone had left the school, and the halls no longer buzzed with sound, dinner was ending and it was almost curfew. Aelita and Ulrich had spaghetti and meatballs together— much to Odd’s vocal displeasure when he saw it on that evening’s menu— and parted once they reached the dorms. 

“What will we be doing tomorrow?” Aelita asked. 

Ever the over-communicator, Ulrich glanced out the window at the blanket of snow that never seemed to stop growing. “I’ll introduce you to normal winter stuff. Dress warm, we’ll be outside,” he said before waving. “Good night.” 

The next morning found Ulrich walking Aelita through the woods. They wound through thickets and tall snow banks, truly getting to experience what winter had to offer. It was a quiet walk (though, at this point, it was more of a hike than a walk). As they approached the tree line, Aelita’s emerald eyes caught sight of the factory from between the bare trunks. 

“The factory?” She blinked, like it was the last place she’d expect to see. “Why are we here?”

“We’re not here for the factory,” Ulrich started. The duo broke through the edge of the forest and basked in the midday sun. It was then that Aelita noticed that the water that acted like a moat was frozen. 

“We’re here for the lake.” 

Suffice to say, without ice skates, music, and other skaters, the duo were nothing but inelegant. Ulrich taught Aelita how to slide about on the ice, how to skid into something resembling a stop, and getting her to glide backwards. Eventually their ice skating devolved into races around the factory, and to hockey— which they played with two tree branches and a pine cone. 

By the time they started heading back to the school, the sky was dimming. Aelita’s cheeks were cherry red and her breath was coming in short puffs of exhaustion, but the grin on her lips was the most genuine thing. Ulrich even found his own lips tilting upward at the sound of her elated laughter. 

“Oh, that was wonderful, Ulrich!” She beamed, bouncing to and fro through the snow banks. “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

He fought off a chuckle. “Sure. I can show you the other stuff later.” 

Though her curiosity was piqued, she didn’t inquire further about the “other stuff”. Ulrich was coming to realize that she liked surprises. 

Aelita hummed happily the entire walk back to Kadic. The thought made Ulrich warm. When they stumbled back indoors, the fiery sensation of needles on bare skin told the duo they’d been out a bit too long. The back of Ulrich’s thighs were on fire, and Aelita’s fingers cried out in pain. 

She was wincing and nervously shifting her weight from foot to foot when Ulrich pulled her out of her head. 

“There’s only one cure to freezer burn,” he started leading her to the cafeteria, though dinner wasn’t going to be served for hours. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to make it.” 

When they made it into the cafeteria, Ulrich made straight for the kitchen doors, which gave Aelita pause. Students weren’t allowed in the kitchen on a good day— what made Ulrich think trying to get in there over winter break would be a better idea? Even then, one of the lunch ladies was probably in there starting on dinner. They’d be caught in no time, so what was Ulrich planning? 

“You coming, Princess?” 

Aelita had been so deep in thought that she’d completely stopped walking, and was staring intently at Ulrich’s relaxed form. 

“Are you sure that—“

“We’ll be fine. Trust me.” 

With Ulrich acting as cocksure and confident as Odd, Aelita could do nothing more than follow behind him and hope for the best. The moment the door swished shut behind her, Ulrich was greeting Glenda with a nod before heading to the opposite side of the kitchen. He flitted in and out of cupboards and pantry doors before placing a shallow pot on the stove. 

He was still gathering things here and there when Aelita asked, “Why aren’t we getting in trouble?”

Ulrich placed two mugs side by side on the counter. “Odd and I have had our fair share of early mornings and late evenings. Glenda’s always the first one in and the last to leave. Let’s just say, she’s fine with us being here so long as the other students don’t know and we pick up after ourselves.”

Aelita didn’t know why she was so surprised by that fact. Of course, every warrior had their fair share of trauma from Xana. If Odd and Ulrich suffered from nightmares or insomnia, Aelita was no one to judge. Shaking herself from her thoughts, she watched as Ulrich melted a good amount of chocolate in the pot before mixing in some milk. He stirred it lightly for a few minutes more before splitting the contents of the pan between the two mugs. He added a tad extra milk to each one before passing the pinkette a plastic spoon. 

Ulrich tilted his mug in her direction, as if to toast. “To winter break?” He asked. 

“To winter break,” she replied. 

Their cups clinked together, and the second day of winter break came to a close. 

“Since when did you know how to cook?” Aelita asked later that evening. “I didn’t take you as one to— not to offend— be knowledgeable about it.”

Ulrich chuckled lightly. “I’m a terrible cook, I just know how to make hot chocolate. My mother taught me when I was younger. Every year we’d play hockey in brook behind the house, and when we came back we’d make hot chocolate to warm us up.”

Ulrich hasn’t said that many words directly to Aelita for almost as long as they’ve known each other. 

Aelita smiles tentatively. “That’s… really nice.”

Ulrich hums warmly before waving good night to the girl. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, bright and early,” he says. 

And Aelita can’t stymie the excited laugh that bubbles up from within. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

Even as they walk their separate ways, Aelita likes to think she sees a ghost of a smile on his lips in the reflection on the windows. 

By the time winter break is over, Aelita has been officially inducted into the exclusive group of students given kitchen rights. Four days after starting classes once again, Aelita finds herself standing in the kitchen at half past the witching hour, wondering why her world weary body brought her here. When Glenda sees the girl half asleep in her cup of cocoa, she simply gives the girl a nudge and pushes her out. “Wait! I didn’t get to do the dishes!” She tries to argue. 

“Get some sleep before classes start, and I might forgive ‘ya,” Glenda tuts, and Aelita knows that the lunch lady has won this round. 

When Aelita curls up in her bed, anxieties and nightmares long forgotten, she takes in the lingering scene of hot chocolate in the air and thinks about Ulrich and the week of shrieking laughter and restrained joy they shared. 

Aelita sleeps through the first three classes and shuffles down for lunch looking like death warmed over, but Glenda serves her the best part of the lasagna with a knowing look, and the young girl dines with her friends. 

She feels more like a living, breathing human at that moment than during any other. 

To her, the most human emotion isn’t rage or something as simple as love, she thinks it’s the gleeful innocence of playing in the snow on a cold day, and the creature comfort that is fuzzy socks and diamond snow. 

She no longer feels in binary and thinks in CSS. 

The girl that is Aelita Stones is born on a cloudy day in December, and she is utterly grateful to the boy who pushed her into the wild and wonderful world she now resides in (even if he pushed her into a snowbank to do it).

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i’ve been kinda in a rut deciding what johnlock fanfics to read, so i came up with a challenge for myself to read as many “A Study In ____” fanfics as possible. do you have any good suggestions?

Hi Lovely!

Ahh, what a fun request and a super easy list for me to curate!! Hee hee! Here’s what I have in my bookmarks AND in my MFL list! As usual, if any of my lovelies have any of their own “A Study in” fics to suggest, please add them below!!

A STUDY IN FANFICS

Peacock by ClassyGirlsWearPearls (T, 1,189 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Cranky Sherlock, Soft John, Hand Holding, Soft Sherlock) – A study in Sherlock and John.

Study in John by chappysmom (K+, 2,158 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiP, POV John, Introspection, Friendship, Nightmares, Caring Sherlock, John’s Limp) – After the events of "A Study in Pink," John lies on the couch in Baker Street and thinks about the whirlwind events of the day. What is he getting himself into?

A Study in Lace by KarlyAnne (E, 2,320 w., 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Crafty Sherlock, Tiny Lace Panties / Lingerie, Domestics, Experiments, Oral, Masturbation) – “Why do you suppose he was doing that?” “Why do I suppose who was doing what?” “The room. The lace. The secrecy. He was playing with fire in everything he did, and didn’t care one bit. But he had a secret chamber, carefully concealed, solely for the purpose of making lace lingerie. Obviously for personal use. Why?" Part 1 of The Unintentional Crafts of Sherlock Holmes

Study in Sherlock by chappysmom (K+, 3,790 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP, Friendship, Introspection, Anxious Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock) – Sherlock's thoughts and feelings during A Study in Pink. What DID he think of John, and why was he being so NICE?

Study in Mycroft by chappysmom (K+, 4,929 w., 1 Ch. || Character Study, Big Brother Mycroft, Mycroft POV, Nosy Mycroft, Holmes Brothers) – A look at Mycroft's thoughts and actions during a Study in Pink.

A Study in Intimacy by doodle (T, 5,183 w., 1 Ch. || WEBARCHIVE LINK || PODFIC AVAILABLE || First Kiss, Virginity, Romance, Touching) – People don't touch Sherlock Holmes, not like they touch other people. Then he meets John Watson.

A Study in Linguistics by rizandace (T, 12,425 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Canon Compliant/S2 Divergence, Friendship, Slices of Life, Communication, Cranky Sherlock, Hospitals, Sherlock Whump, Pet Cat, Jealous John, Sherlock’s Violin, Anxious Sherlock, John Whump) – Sherlock Holmes and John Watson had their own language. It was a language of few words and minute facial expressions, and John had learned that it was nearly the only way to have an honest conversation with his eccentric flat mate.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

A Study Of Living With Sherlock Holmes by AllesandraQuartermaine (T, 50,234 w., 22 Ch. || Post-ASiP/Pre-TAB, Domestics, Friendship, POV John) – Learn about what happened between John and Sherlock January 31st and March 22. From John's pov on how to survive and learn to live with one eccentric mad genius known as Sherlock Holmes.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

MARKED FOR LATER

A Study in Pink Pyjamas by alexxphoenix42 (M, 1,628 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Est. Rel., Pink Pyjamas, Fluff, Cross-Dressing) – Sherlock hasn't been a fan of either Christmas or fancy pyjamas for a number of years, but John has a way of changing his mind about things.

A Study in Night Terrors by Dovahlock221 (T, 2,811 w., 1 Ch. || 5 and Ones, Night Terrors, (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort, PTSD Sherlock, Worried John, Hurt John, Angst with Happy Ending) – Five times Sherlock suffered from night terrors and the one time he had the best dream of his life.

A Study in Beard by Loveismyrevolution (T, 3,810 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, Fluff and Humour, Experiments, Beards, Idiots in Love, Quarantine) – Sherlock has to face the consequences of using up all of their shaving foam. Which turns out to be more fun than expected. Boys being boys, nothing can go without a challenge. Although, being isolated presents a problem. How will they determine the winner? Part 2 of the Hairy Situations at 221B series

A Study in Sensuality (or, That Johnlock Gif Story) by MojoFlower (E, 4,693 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock || Porn Gifs, PWP, Pole Dancer Sherlock, Student Sherlock, Student John, Photography, Sensuality, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Rimming, Fingering, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Felching, Unsafe Sex) – When John signs up to partner with Sherlock Holmes in photography class, he never guesses it will end up with him balls-deep in his study partner's arse. Easy A?

A Study in Dichotomy by UrbanHymnal (E, 7,439 w., 1 Ch. || First Time, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Misunderstandings, Fluff and Humour) – John wants his brilliance and his stupidity; his knowledge of 243 types of ash and his inability to name all the planets in the solar system; his perfectly pressed suits and his wrinkled t-shirts carelessly tossed on inside out. John wants to kiss Sherlock when he is still waking to the world, to press against him when he is still warm from sleep. He wants to grab Sherlock by the scarf and haul him close so he can bury his nose in the sweat that has collected at the base of Sherlock's neck, under his arms, in between his legs.

A Study in Asexuality by ladyxdarcy (M, 8,082 w., 1 Ch. || Asexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Acephobia, Mentions of Rape/Corrective Rape Therapy, Past Suicidal Ideation, Implied / Referenced Drug Use, Overdose, Past Mary/John, Emotional Sherlock, Insecure Sherlock, Vulnerable Sherlock, Est. Rel., Angst with Happy Ending, Fluff) – When Sherlock, asexual to his core, fears that John may grow bored of a sexless life, he decides to do whatever it takes to make John happy so he stays. Good thing John is already happy.

A Study in Anorexia by madeleinefs (NR, 11,415 +w., 16 Ch. || WIP || Eating Disorders, Anorexia, Bulimia, Starvation, Mental Health Issues, Hospitalization, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Doctor John, Self Harm, Depression, Angst, Hurt Sherlock) – A realistic approach as to what Sherlock would look like suffering from an eating disorder. This will not be a Johnlock, or some sort of sick-and-then-love-heals-all story, because that isn't realistic. I want this to be realistic, and true to the characters, as well as true to the nature of the disease.

A Study in Sex Series by Castiel_For_King (E, 19,939 w. across 4 works || Virgin Sherlock, Bottomlock, Sensitive Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Porn with Plot / Feelings, Praise Kink, Gentle John, Naïve Sherlock, Sexual Exploration, Anal, Frottage, Tender Sex) – Sherlock is new to sex and John is the first person he's ever wanted to touch and be touched by. But wanting it doesn't seem to magically wash away his apprehension like he'd hoped. Luckily, it's John and John is wonderful and kind and patient and maybe has a bit of a thing for teaching Sherlock all about physical intimacy.

The Art Of Seduction: A Study In Pulling by flawedamythyst (M, 25,279 w., 1 Ch. || AU) – Sherlock ran a website called The Science Of Seduction, on which he gave advice on the best ways to get laid, wrote blog entries detailing the results of his various sexual 'experiments' and generally contributed to the stereotype of 'every gay man is a sex-mad playboy'. John avoided the thing like the plague. AU in which Sherlock treats sex like he does crime in canon. Inspired by Queer As Folk UK, but it very quickly went its own way. Part 1 of The Art Of Seduction

A Study in Slavery by sweetinsane (M, 88,538+ w., 12/? Ch. || WIP || Dark / Slavery AU || ASiP, Angst, Domestic Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Slow Build, Dehumanization, Sexual Slavery, Child Abuse, Master/Slave Dynamics, Dark Content) – John has never owned a slave of his own, but after returning from Afghanistan is awarded one with his pension. A disobedient male slave with way too much troubling history, however, is not what he would have chosen himself.

[kaibacorpintern]

For the prompt thing: kaiba + yuugi + professionalism!

this was fun!! thanks to @dxmichelle for the retail stories. kaiba as a retail worker is like me when I was a retail worker because when i worked at a barnes and noble, i spent a LOT of time perfectly squaring the books. anyway all the kaibacorp adventure park castmembers get some fat fucking pay raise/benefit boosts after this

***

This was all Jounouchi’s fucking fault and Seto was never agreeing to any stupid fucking bets again. When did he become a good duelist, instead of just a lucky one? And he knew it, too, announcing his plans to win the Domino City Invitational with the kind of brash, easy confidence that was a front for nothing, a Roman wall around nothing, with nothing he needed to defend on the other side. As hard to read as a coloring book. Asshole. 

“The gods have struck men down for less hubris than this,” Seto snapped, over a game of poker at Yuugi’s weekly game night. Mokuba had badgered him into attending after their return from the yearly strategic planning retreat with the board. You need to be around normal people! No more sharks in people suits! 

“So what? You don’t believe in higher powers, Rich Boy.”

 “In my experience, a god and a higher power are two separate things."

“Oh, okay, Neeshee. Maybe you don’t believe in me, but you do believe in games,” Jounouchi said.

“Devastating insight,” Seto said. “And it’s Nietzsche.”

“Bless you. Don't be rude and sneeze into a tissue next time. Let’s make a bet. When I win the Invitational, you… pick up all my shifts at the Kame Game Shop for a week. I take home all the paychecks, but you do all the work. You know, bog-standard capitalism.”

Seto rolled his eyes. “When you lose, you give the jet a good wash and wax. Then you throw your deck and your Duel Disk into the river, and never duel again.”

“Deal. And I tell you what, Kaiba. One day we’re gonna meet across the field, and you’re going to lose, but it won’t even bother you, because you had just so much fun,” Jounouchi said, extending his hand across the table, with a savage grin. 

“Don’t fucking threaten me,” Seto said, shaking his hand.

Asshole! Jounouchi stomped the competition with an ease Seto hadn’t seen since he was fourteen and unceremoniously sacking Inspector Haga at the Pan Pacific Final. 

At least Yuugi gave him his own nametag, instead of making him wear Jounouchi’s: a plastic, turtle-shaped badge with a white space for his name. There was a line below it that said MY FAVORITE GAME IS... chess, Seto wrote in moodily, with the marker. Then he affixed it to his dark-green apron, neatly and precisely, just over his heart.

Yuugi nudged the curtain into the stock room aside, wearing a matching apron and smiling like he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“Ready to clock in - oh, no. This is the Kame Game Shop,” he said, reaching up to fix Seto’s name tag, tweaking it to sit slightly at an angle. “Perfect right angles are for squares.”

“A KaibaCorp Adventure Park castmember wouldn’t be caught dead with their nametag this sloppy,” Seto snapped.

“It’s not sloppy. It’s jaunty and playful,” Yuugi corrected. “Now, let’s review. You’re an engineering prodigy, so I’m sure you can handle the register. What do we do when a customer walks in?”

Seto sighed, hands bracing on his hips as his eyes rolled towards the ceiling. That asshole picked up five full days of double shifts. 

“Welcome them when they walk in,” he said, as Yuugi nodded along. “Ask if they need any help. If they’re just browsing, leave them alone. Provide recommendations if they ask.”

“And?” Yuugi prompted, raising his eyebrows.

“Wrap and bag their purchases and thank them for wasting my fucking time.”

Yuugi reached up, pressing the tips of his index fingers into Seto’s cheeks. “No! Smile!” 

Seto bared his teeth.

“Can’t believe people call you a bad sport,” Yuugi said. “Maybe just smize instead. Go! Clock in! Upsell your own Duel Disk!”

Seto let out a final dramatic huff, took the clipboard off its hook on the wall, and added his billion-dollar contract signature to the timesheet, below several rows of Jounouchi’s scrawl. 

***

After four hours, Seto took his lunch break, an all-too-brief thirty minutes in the alley behind the Game Shop, leaning back with one foot propped against the wall, answering emails on his phone with all the speed and fury his thumbs could muster. It was high summer. Vines spilled over the wall on the other side of the alleyway, limp and vibrating with heat. Even the shade under the wall was warm. 

The side door opened. He turned his head, preparing a choice little bon mot for Yuugi, and paused, his breath hitching in his chest with a wild regret, birdlike, startled suddenly out of hiding. 

He stared at Sugoroku, privately cursing Jounouchi for the nth time for making the fucking bet, winning the fucking Invitational, and putting him here in this fucking alleyway, staring at Sugoroku. It was too late to go back inside. Sugoroku stared back, hoary-haired, stooped under the weight of his years. Even wizened, with skin like old, pale leather, the family resemblances were clear: the same big, warm eyes, the same bright smile, no less weakened for age. 

He shuffled out the door, dragging a small garbage bag of recycling beside him.

“Open that up and drop this in, will you please? My back’s not what it used to be.”

“Yes,” Seto said, rapidly stooping to take the bag. Should he add sir? Yes, sir? He hadn’t said 'sir' to anyone in ten years. What was he supposed to say? Sorry. I was not myself. I was myself, but the worst version. It was the beta release of me and we have removed the bugs (the murder bugs) in advance of stable release. All remaining bugs are acceptable. We have added accurate legal and medical disclaimers to all our SolidVision and Virtual World products about how the sensory intensity of KaibaCorp proprietary holographic technology may exacerbate existing heart conditions. I am taking good care of her and I love her and she loves me. Who? Her. The dragon. 

He dropped the bag into the recycling bin several steps away and turned around to face Sugoroku, summoning his resolve with an inhale, exhale, firm and deep. 

“How’s your first day?” Sugoroku said.

“My company isn’t going down in flames without me,” Seto said. “Color me surprised.”

“How’s your first day here?”

“Enthralling. The adrenaline high of consumer retail is really just something else - ”

“Speak up, I can’t hear you over all that racket you’re making,” Sugoroku said. Seto paused, bewildered, mouth half-open - and shut it, color flaring across his face.

“Uh - fine,” he muttered. “It’s fine. I helped an eight-year-old pick out a board game.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She came in with all the allowance she’d saved up and she wanted something she could play with her sister. I sold her on mancala."

"That's a classic. Not a board game, but a classic. And hard to sell to children."

Seto scoffed. "I hate the crap they pass off as board games these days, with all the… fiddly, little plastic pieces and the arcane rules. Children get drawn in by the colors, but they don't have patience for the rules, so it ends up forgotten at the bottom of a bookshelf somewhere with half the pieces sucked up in the vacuum cleaner. Mancala is simple. You can play it with a patch of dirt and a handful of gravel. But if you want to win, you need to play with skill and wit. It's timeless. It’s elegant."

"Well, you've sold me. I haven’t played mancala in years. Shall we play tomorrow? During your lunch break?"

Seto said nothing, resisting the urge to bite his lip, a bad habit and a sign of nervousness.

“Yuugi speaks very highly of you, you know,” Sugoroku said. “I’d love to know why.”

He chuckled and shuffled back inside, leaving Seto fuming with an odd, stomach-clenching embarrassment. 

He checked his phone. Three more minutes left of his lunch break, and his feet were aching. He should’ve worn different shoes, not the Chelsea boots. Tomorrow. Mancala? Damn Jounouchi to hell. Better shoes.

***

“Excuse me,” the woman said. “Do you have Legendary Heroes II?”

Seto abandoned his task of aligning board game boxes at perfect right angles. Fuck jaunty and playful.

“No. That’s not out until December,” he said. The production issues on Legendary Heroes II were a fucking nightmare, and the thought of making his game developers crunch - making them miserable, overworked, and more likely to quit and get snapped up by Schroeder Corp - gave him hives. So he’d pushed release back to December, allowing the small hit to his stock under the rationale that the holiday retail season would make up for it. But she didn’t need to know that. 

“But - it’s my son’s birthday next Saturday, and Legendary Heroes is his favorite game,” she said, hands clenching loosely by her stomach, a gesture of pleading.

“I’m delighted to hear it. It does not change the fact that the game literally does not exist,” Seto said. 

“Can you just check in the back? He’s been asking about this for months now,” she said, and Seto clicked his teeth, face slipping into a snarl - from the corner of his eye, he saw Yuugi, watching him.

Smile, he mouthed, and pressed his fingers into his own cheeks, putting on a manic, plastic grin. 

“Of course. I’ll be right back,” Seto said, smiling, and stormed away. As expected, he did not find Legendary Heroes II in the stock room. He dawdled, checking his email, firing off a few replies, advising Mokuba on the right way to handle the zesty temperament of their general counsel - this’ll be fun, Mokuba said, I get to run KaibaCorp without you, like, dying or something - WHAT? - and stashed his phone back into his apron pocket.

“My apologies,” he said, returning to the woman. “We don’t have it in stock. If you’d like to pre-order it, it’ll be available just in time for Christmas. Just log on to the KaibaCorp website and enter the Kame Game Shop as your pick-up location. If you’re still looking for a birthday gift, I strongly suggest the new Duel Disk. The design is much better for children than the old one - lighter and more streamlined, with less intense haptics. If he already has a Duel Disk, he can bring that in for a trade-in.”

“Oh, perfect!” she said. “We'll do that. Thank you. You’ve been so helpful.”

“You’re welcome. Have a fantastic day,” Seto said, still smiling. He watched her leave and returned to his board game boxes, feeling hideously, fabulously smug. A customer walked in, carrying a bare Duel Disk under his arm, and Seto shot him a cheerful welcome. The man ignored him, heading straight to Yuugi at the counter.

***

Yuugi swallowed, squared his shoulders, and lifted his chin.

"I'm sorry. We cannot accept a Duel Disk return without a box or a receipt," he said. Clearly stolen. 

"But I bought it here two weeks ago. And the stupid piece of shit is defective," the man said. "I want my money back!"

Loud enough that Seto, re-stocking towards the front of the store, turned towards them, with open curiosity.

"What's the nature of the defect?" Yuugi said.

"It just doesn't fucking work. I don't know what else to tell you," the guy said. "Are you gonna do the return or not?!"

His least favorite type of customer: smashing reason apart with the baseball bat of belligerence. Yuugi steeled himself for the inevitable slew of insults. 

"Sir. I can't do the return without a receipt - "

A hand came down on his shoulder, pulling him with polite insistence out of the way. Seto, with a canny, feline smile, the kind that foretold bloodshed on the dueling field.

"Oh no, Yuugi," he said. "Let me handle this."