#first day of my new chinese class was this morning

[jayswing101]

.

[fingertipsmp3]

Might just pass the fuck out actually

[wardenparker]

First Christmas

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.6k Warnings: Established relationship, mentions of sex toys/gagging, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cuddling, fluff, picturesque family stuff everywhere. Summary: A whirlwind relationship has led you to marrying Marcus before a lot of traditional landmarks in the dating realm. Now it's time to meet the Pikes, and you'll be doing it on their absolute favorite holiday. Notes: Please enjoy some seasonal fluff! While Marcus and the Pikes are obviously depicted as celebrating Christmas (duh, that's the plot) there aren't any references to the family being Christian, or to reader's religious identity. This is just some good old fashioned all-American Marcus fluff for the holiday 🧡🎄❄

“I talked to my Mom this morning.” Marcus shucks his jacket, buoyed by his news, although he’s had every reason to grin when he’s coming home to you every night. “And I managed to book the last two tickets. Had to get first class, but I used miles, so it wasn’t that bad.” He leans in and drops a kiss on your lips before he turns to hang his coat on the rack. “Figure we fly out a couple of days before Christmas and we can fly home the day after. We only end up needing to take a day or two maximum out of work that way. What do you think?”

“What do I think about three days with your entire extended family when it will be the very first time I’m meeting them all?” Marrying Marcus had been a whirlwind, and while you’re immensely happy together and have no regrets for the situation— it is a little intimidating. Marcus is incredibly close to his family and you are the exact opposite. “Honestly, babe? I’m intimidated. But I’m all in. I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure they like me.”

“It’ll be great. They will love you.” Of course there had been a million and one questions when Marcus had called with the news that he was married. That he couldn’t wait to plan a wedding, and that you and he had just decided to go to the court house. “Get the embarrassing stories and baby pics out of the way before the rest of the family descends on the house.”

“Cramming into that twin bed in your Mom’s house is going to be fun,” you tease, a slight snort following your grin as you start taking leftovers out of the fridge to warm up for dinner. Last night’s Chinese take out order was more than a little over the top.

“Just means we get to snuggle really close.” He hums, sliding up behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle as he presses close. The honeymoon phase hasn’t even begun to fade, and he hopes it never does. “But I think she did trade it for a queen.”

“We’ll still cuddle.” That’s a promise, and you lean back against his chest with a comforted hum that’s so blissful you just let your eyes fall shut and enjoy it. “Though it might be good if she did trade up. A new bed will squeak a hell of a lot less than an old one.”

His cock twitches, but he’s pretty sure that was the entire point of your comment. You love to see how easily you turn him on. “But then we still have to keep you quiet, baby.” He ducks his head and nips at your neck. “Can’t be screaming my name for the entire house to hear.”

Turning your head, you bat your eyelashes at him innocently and make your eyes extra wide. “Should we pack my gag, then?”

“Fuck.” He hisses quietly, twitching against your ass again. “You want to be gagged and fucked hard in my childhood bedroom?” He rasps out.

“Only if there’s really embarrassing posters on the walls.” The evil little teasing giggle that bubbles out of you comes with a full-on grind of your ass against his rapidly hardening cock. It’s not hard to rile each other up, but it is so much fun.

“Want me to show you how hard I would fuck you?” His hands slide under your shirt and cup your tits through the bra you loath and he loves to take off of you.

“Hmmm.” Even pretending to think about it makes you grin harder and you turn around in his arms to wrap your arms around his neck. “The egg rolls take five minutes to warm up in the oven. Think we can get off that fast?”

“You doubt my abilities?” He pouts at you playfully, even as he moves to start unbuttoning your pants. “Baby, I’m hurt.”

“Maybe I just know giving you a challenge always gets results.” Your hands move to his belt as he starts to pull your own pants open.

“Brat.” His grin is infectious as he pushes your pants and panties down over your hips.

“Yeah, and you love it.” You shove the tray in the oven and practically smack the timer in your haste to set it, ready to hop up on the kitchen counter in the idyllic little house you share with your husband and let him fuck the life out of you.

His chuckle is warm and his hands don’t pause as he slides his hand between your thighs to touch you as his other works his belt buckle. “I do love it.” He admits easily.

Whatever clever comeback you have dies on your lips, too focused on your husband’s large hand and quick fingers at the apex of your thighs to do anything but quickly kick off your pants and panties so you can slide back onto the kitchen counter with your legs open.

“Fuck, I love the way you are so eager.” Marcus is always just as eager, but he doesn’t focus on his wants. Having you in front of him demands that you be pleasured and that’s what he’s going to do.

“For you? Always.” It’s been this way between you since the beginning. Since the day he waltzed into your undercover operation posing as your husband who could forge any painting. The spark was immediate and mutual, and soon the lines between role and real life were blurring for both of you. Now, of course, things are less complicated. But the want is no less real.

Marcus hums, leaning in to kiss along your neck like he had quickly discovered you love. Lips and teeth working together to make you moan while his fingers slide inside you.

“Baby.” Managing to moan anything coherent while he’s touching you is a miracle, but you gasp out when he starts to crook his fingers inside the tight walls of your pussy. “Need you, baby. Need you to fill me up.”

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He promises, grinning at the way your jaw is slack when he pulls back to look at you, “just as soon as you cream all over my fingers, baby.”

A whine seems to seep out of your throat unbidden and you glance over at the kitchen timer as your hips rock against his hand. “Four minutes and thirty-two seconds,” you warn with a grin.

“So we have time to have a drink.” He chuckles as he increases the tempo of his fingers as he works them in and out of you.

“Fuck, baby.” Marcus knows exactly how to work you into a frenzy with seemingly zero effort, and he delights in putting that ability on display just as much as he loves taking you apart extra slowly to make you beg. The man is devastatingly talented and you are the happy beneficiary of all that laser focus.

“That’s what I’m gonna do.” He teases. “Fuck you. Been thinking about it all day while working on paperwork.”

Being on your best behaviour at work does mean that you haven’t had him fuck you on his desk yet, but you’ve been craving it. The kitchen counter will have to serve as a substitute for just a little longer, it seems. “Yeah?” You pant, feeling yourself get closer and closer under his expert touch. “Bet you had to stay hidden behind that desk all day so no one would see how hard I make you.”

“Soooo fucking hard.” He agrees, reaching up and squeezing your tit through your shirt and bra. “Just have to think about how I woke you up sliding inside you this morning.”

“Best way to wake up.” Your head falls back, thumping against the kitchen cabinet but you barely notice.

“And I love to see your eyes turn glassy before you even wipe the sleep away.” Marcus curls his fingers up and leans in to press his lips to yours. “Cum for me baby.”

It should be impossible for him to command it like that and yet as soon as the words are out of his mouth you are gasping in pleasure and feeling the coil at the base of your spine pull tight right before the stars explode behind your eyes. Marcus groans as he watches your eyes flutter closed, your head tilting back against the cabinet and your sweet little pussy just soaking his fingers with the slickest, hottest cum he’s ever had the pleasure of feeling. “That’s it, baby, shake for me.”

“So fucking good.” Drawing in that first deep breath after cumming is always like the first breath of fresh air in the morning. As soon as the heaviness lifts from your limbs you’re surging forward to kiss him, wrapping one hand around his cock to draw him in closer and beg silently for him to fuck you.

It’s Marcus’s turn to groan and his hips rock forward, chasing your grip as you pump his cock. “Fuck baby, need you so bad.” He moans into your mouth and shuffles closer, his fingers digging into your hips to drag you closer to the edge of the counter.

No one could ever doubt the passion in your marriage, that is for damn sure, and you lean back on the counter so Marcus can line himself up at your entrance – moaning softly when he starts to push inside. "Fuck I love you so much."

“I love you too.” An undercover op that had meant to be a means to getting Teresa Lisbon – now Jane – off his mind, had ended up being the best thing that ever happened to him. You are the best thing that ever happened. “So fucking much.” He pushes until he’s buried to the hilt and immediately pulling back to rock into you again.

When the two of you are worked up like this it never takes long. For a couple who routinely fuck an average of twice a day, anyone would think that it would be taking longer by now. It's not like you're pent up after a week of not seeing each other or anything. In fact, you see each other constantly —  always doing your best to even line up your lunch breaks whenever you possibly can. No, it's just passion. Plain and simple. Top of FormHe has zero problem slapping his thighs against the counter as he works into you. Panting out your name breathlessly as you clench down on him. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, baby.” With one arm twined around his shoulders and the other holding blindly to the counter, your legs have wrapped around Marcus’s trim waist to encourage every thrust. “Feels so fucking amazing.”

“You—your pussy.” He grunts out, biting his lip and then rocking his hips forward with a particularly harsh thrust.

“It’s all yours.” And with as fiercely as his hips slam into yours, it’s a wonder that your pussy doesn’t ache more than she does. But the only aching you ever seem to feel is from wanting him as close as possible. Like right now.

Every push of his hips is complete bliss, groaning as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Even mumbled against his lips it’s so true that it makes your heart swell, and you tilt your hips so he can thrust a little deeper each time. He won’t last much longer and the timer must be almost up anyway. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up.”

“Rub your clit.” He orders. “Cum for me again. Want you to cum again.”

There is nothing you want more in the world right now than to obey, and in barely a Moment more the two of you are panting and moaning into each other’s kiss, careening toward the edge of pleasure. It’s like magic, the way your fingers immediately make your core seize up around him. That little bit of pressure ripping you over the edge and making you cry out his name.

He tumbles over the edge second later, your shaking legs wrapped tight around his waist and keep him deep inside you while he paints your walls with hot cum. It's the perfect way to unwind after a long day at the office, and you groan without restraint. The kisses you press all over his lips and jaw and neck are instantly giddy, the adrenaline rush of cumming taking over the second the crashing orgasm subsides. Marcus groans, tucking his head into your neck the second he can and chuckling as the timer for the oven starts to buzz. “Perfect timing.”

******

“This is it.” The Pike house is on the corner of two main streets in his Nebraska hometown, where the old Victorian rises up from the sidewalk like a proud pillar of the old community and you can perfectly see Marcus growing up here as a little boy. His wholesome, corn-fed, all-American childhood is perfectly framed here. “Right here.” The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, matching the grin that is on his face as he looks up at the house. “Home sweet home. Mom should be here, waiting to pounce on us.”

“You’re excited.” It’s sweet, and you know he’s missed his family something terrible. “Let’s go inside, baby. Time to introduce your wife to your mother.” His second wife, technically, but that’s neither here nor there. His divorce was years and years ago now, even though she is very much still part of the family.

“She’s going to love you.” The fact that he hasn’t had you two on the phone together is just a matter of scheduling but it will quickly be corrected. “Let’s go.” The engine is cut and he opens the driver door to the rental car that was crazy expensive but worth the autonomy of being able to take you around the town.

Like any son, Marcus doesn’t bother to knock at the door but pushes inside, calling out to his mother as soon as it is half open. The first thing that catches your eye is the line of photos down the staircase to your right, and you shift to look at them all right away. Marcus’s two siblings’ wedding photos. A collage frame of each family featuring their children at different ages. Marcus’s graduation photo from the Academy. And his parents’ wedding photo that is now some forty years old.

“Marc?” The voice rings out from the kitchen and there’s the general clanging of pots and pans as she hustles out the doorway, wiping her hands in the dishrag. “Oh Marc, you made it!”

Julia Pike is a tall and fairly slender woman with grays streaked heavily through her dirty blonde hair and laugh lines that speak to a lifetime of joy with her family. But more than all of those things, she is a hugger. Her arms envelope both you and Marcus as soon as you’re within reach and she hums so happily that anyone could be easily forgiven for confusing her with the family cat. “How was your flight, sweetie? The food was probably terrible, right? Airline food always is. Come in, come in! Leave your things here and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Hey Mom,” his arms are just as tight around his mother as they are when he hugs you. “We didn’t even risk the airport food, so we are starving.” He pulls back and gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please tell me you are making my favorite?”

“Do you think I would just skip out on your first meal home in more than a year and not make you chowder?” She tuts as if she’s insulted and turned to you conspiratorially. “Of all the things in the world, it’s always been corn and potato chowder. Who knows where he picked that up from but the first time I put bacon in it he started begging for it constantly.”

“Because bacon is probably the only thing that beats pancakes.” Marcus leans in and kisses his mother’s cheek. “And Mom makes the best corn and potato chowder you will ever have.” He promises you, letting go of her so he can wrap his arm around your waist. “Why don’t you two go into the kitchen and I’ll bring in the bags?”

“Thanks, honey.” It’s just a squeeze of his hand in yours before he slips back out the door, but you already feel more at ease. His mother is so incredibly sweet.

“Don’t worry a bit, I won’t bite.” Julia promises, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and giggling quietly as she guides you to the kitchen. “I’ll quickly fill you in on his most embarrassing stories.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t been able to meet or talk before.” That’s really the first thing you want to say, knowing how much Marcus loves his family. “It’s all happened very fast, and we’re still wrapping up this case that our departments are working on together.”

“Don’t worry.” She smiles indulgently. If she had been a lesser woman, she would have been upset or insulted by the quick wedding and no communication, but she was secure in her youngest child’s affection. “You’re in the honeymoon phase and who wants to talk to your mother-in-law when you can be cuddling your new spouse?”

"Unfortunately, work doesn't give us a lot of downtime. Even getting a few days off for Christmas was something of a coup d’état." Following her into the kitchen, you look around the well-appointed space and note buttery looking rolls sitting on a baking tray nearby and the whole place smells like absolute heaven. "I really can't thank you enough for having us here a few days early. He's been so excited to come home and see everyone again."

“I have so looked forward to meeting you.” She waves away your thanks. “The way Marcus has talked about you when we chat, I just knew that we would be good friends.”

"He is...completely remarkable." The warmth that rushes to your cheeks at that admission is immediate, but it's honest. You won't shrug it away or apologize for it. "I know our meeting was pretty unconventional, but it was like we knew each other instantly. He's really...he's my best friend, on top of everything else. So I've really been looking forward to meeting all of you. To see how he got to be the amazing man I married." It sounds cheesy, like you're sucking up or something, but it's all so true. And since you are every bit as sentimental as your husband, you don't mind saying it out loud.

“Marcus has always led with his heart.” Julia acknowledges and turns back towards the stove to start dishing up large bowls of the chowder. “It has sometimes led him to heartbreak,” she tells you, turning around with the first bowl. “But somehow I think he’s got it right.”

"I love him so much." And you won't hesitate to shout it from the rooftops, either, which has a smile spreading over his mother's face as she works. Immediately jumping in, you pick up the empty basket beside the tray of rolls and stack them inside. She's set the little kitchen table for the three of you to eat at, so that is where the basket will end up. "I already can't imagine how I ever kept my head on without him, and I can't imagine a single day of my future without him in it."

“The perfect thing about it, is that I think you mean it.” She tells you, handing you a bowl of chowder. “In fact, I would bet money on it. I have a feeling about these things.”

"You're the one he gets it from." Accepting the bowl and setting it down, you take the next from her as well and make sure everything is set out. The opening and closing of the front door says that Marcus has returned and that makes your smile brighten reflexively. "He has a reputation for it at work. His sixth sense."

“Of course he does. He’s a hard worker and he follows his feelings.” She shrugs slightly. “Sometimes it is faulty, but I blame that on the other people involved.”

"People largely follow patterns, but the human ability to be unpredictable really does throw a monkey wrench in case work sometimes," you acknowledge. Of course, it can also be what makes your job so interesting at times. When Marcus comes down the hall to the kitchen you can't help the way you beam, leaning back for a second so he can help his Mom with the last bowl and get a pitcher of something to drink from the refrigerator. "It smells amazing, Mrs. Pike." Until she's given you explicit permission, you're not presuming to call her by her first name. You've known too many friends who got on their mother-in-law's bad side off the bat for being considered too informal or disrespectful because they tried to be friendly.

“That is just the best compliment I’ve ever had.” Julia can’t help but melt slightly as she pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit down. “Now, I won’t insist that you call me ‘Mom’, but I also don’t want you to call me ‘Mrs. Pike’. That’s your name too now. So, please call me Julia?”

"Julia, then." Sitting down at the table with Marcus and his mother feels a hell of a lot more comfortable than you had worried it might be. But so far? So far, so good. "Although, since you mention it, having two Special Agent Pikes at work has been fairly entertaining. We keep accidentally getting each other's deliveries from the mailroom."

She laughs, well aware of the confusion and commotion it would cause. “You might have to start adding your first initial to your mail.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Or…do nothing and use the mail mix up as a good excuse to steal a kiss on the government’s time.”

"That's..." You glance at Marcus and you both grin unapologetically before everyone digs into their lunch. "What we've been doing so far. But once Marcus gets his promotion it won't be a worry anymore. His title will change and the mix-ups will be over."

“I still cannot believe that they have not moved you into the role you went to D.C. for.” Julia huffs, frowning fiercely. It seems like that is just wrong to her and it is. Her baby was supposed to be the head of his department by now, but something about delaying retirement on the outgoing head had pushed back Marcus taking over the role.

“Technically, they have,” you assure her, not wanting his mother to think that Marcus isn’t being fully respected at work. “He is running the task force that he was promised. The decision to move him up to head of the department came after he had already accepted the transfer, so it’s on a different timeline. But it’s all on track. The current department head just wanted to finish out the calendar year and he’ll retire at the end of the month. It’s just a matter of weeks now.”

“Well…that’s good, I suppose.” Like any mother she knows, she’s protective over her children and their lives, even when they’ve long left her nest. “And Marc tells me that you work in another department? How are you enjoying it?”

“I work in the white collar crimes division,” you nod, managing not to moan out loud at your first taste of the soup. No wonder this is Marcus’s favorite, it’s like a giant hug. “Mostly I work on fraud cases. Forgeries are my specialty. Which…is how Marcus and I met. I needed an art consultant on a case I was working on, and he’s the best of the best.”

"He is the best." She beams as only a mother can and grins. "Although, at one point, he wanted nothing more than the be a rock star with his band."

“I keep telling him he should start up again.” The grin you throw your husband is nearly victorious. You just know his mother is going to take your side. “A couple of guys in my department need a new bassist for their band and he would be perfect.”

"If he would enjoy it, I have his old bass in the attic." She supplies immediately. "There is no reason you shouldn't take it back with you. I know it's in good condition, I have to keep Kelly's oldest from sneaking it out of the house every time he comes over."

“What do you think, babe?” It’s entirely up to him, even if he never wants to join another band you still want him to have music in his life. “We can absolutely bring your bass home with us if you want to.”

"If you don't mind." His eyes slide towards his mother again, While it was his bass, it had been a last gift from his father and it was something that he could not take with him when he moved out for good. All of the kids had left the last gifts that he had given them in the house they had lived in with him. A kind of living memorial to a man who could never be replaced.

“It’s totally up to you, honey.” His mother promises. “Your brother has been hinting about his little girl being interested in Grandpa’s baseball gear when she’s old enough, so I think it’s time.”

He mulls it over, taking another spoonful of the chowder as he thinks. "I will take it home." He decides after a Moment. "It would be good to start playing again and one day—" His eyes slide warmly over to you. "Maybe it will be passed down to the next generation of Pike."

Julia raises one manicured eyebrow at that and gladly notes the way your expression turns a little dreamy at the idea. “I take it that topic has been bandied around a little at home?”

"We've talked about it." Marcus admits, setting down his spoon and picking up your hand. "We want to spend a little time together first, and figured that we would return to the conversation when I've settled into my new role." That’s what you agreed upon together, but Marcus won’t deny that if it happens sooner rather than later, he’ll be over the moon.

“I have to say.” The smile she aims at both of you is proud and bright. “It sounds like you’re enjoying being married, and that is half the battle in the beginning.”

"We are, Mom." Marcus agrees easily, squeezing your hand and looking over her with pure adoration in his warm brown eyes. "I had one hell of an example with you and Dad, and I think that we would make both of your proud."

******

Celebrating his long-overdue return to his hometown means that Marcus takes you to his favorite little family restaurant for dinner that night and by the time you’re falling into his bed, you’re both feeling relaxed and incredibly sleepy. Getting to see parts of his past is a window into his soul that you’ve never gotten before, and you curl around him in your pjs with a contended sigh.

Marcus has a habit of stroking your bare back until you fall asleep. Since you’re not sleeping nude tonight, his hand slides under your pajama shirt to touch you. “So what do you think?” He asks softly, wanting to know how you feel about his town where he spent his formative years.

“It’s the perfect little slice of Americana,” you tell him with a grin. “I can absolutely see you running around here as the happiest little kid in the world.”

“I had my teenage angst.” He admits with a chuckle, thinking back to how naive he had been about what was truly heartbreaking. “Like most kids do. Rebelled a little.”

"Grew your hair and became a little rock star?" The pictures of teenage Marcus with long curls and shredded t-shirts didn't last for a very long period of his teenage years, but they definitely seem to be among his most treasured memories.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.” He admits. “Almost got a tattoo. Although I’m lucky I didn’t have a scar when my nose ring came out.”

"I'm sooo bummed I missed that entire phase," you giggle into his side, having now seen a plethora of photos from Marcus's younger years. "I would've been all over you in high school."

“Yeah?” He hums, grinning into the darkness. “You would have been my little groupie?”

“Oh totally.” He sounds so utterly pleased that you giggle. “I would’ve been swooning at your feet.”

“I would have let you.” He admits, his fingers trailing up and down your spine. “Given you a private performance.”

Another giggle becomes a snort, and you rest your chin on Marcus’s chest to look up at him. “Your mother might not have liked me so much as a sixteen-year-old groupie, but I woulda been stuck to you like glue.”

“She was actually pretty cool with boyfriends and girlfriends.” He tells you. “She would have just made sure we were being safe.”

“Mmkay,” you hum and laugh. “So it would have been finding refuge here after my parents forbade me from seeing you anymore. Got it.”

He hums. “I could still impress the parents with my manners.” He promises. “No forbidding going on.”

“I just would have snuck out to see you.” It’s a fun little game of pretend to play, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Nothing could keep me from you, babe. We’re stuck like glue.”

“We are stuck like glue.” He smiles at you, ecstatic about that fact, that he’s gotten it right. “Me and you babe.”

******

On Sunday morning, his siblings and their families descend on the house early. All the Pike kids are morning people, apparently, and even more so when mornings include Christmas movies. The clattering downstairs is what wakes you, and you huff a groan into your husband’s side when you realize he’s silently stroking your back in your sleep. “Early.” You mumble, knowing it’s later than the time you get up for work but early for vacation wake up time.

“I know.” He’s eager to get downstairs, but he’s also eager to stay by your side. “But I know Mom will have coffee and fruit strudels downstairs.”

“Tempting.” But it’s not nearly as tempting as morning kisses, and you shift up the bed to snag some.

Marcus hums, smiling against your lips as he holds you close. “Morning.” He whispers between soft and sweet kisses. Enjoying the intimacy of the moment with you before the chaos begins.

“Morning, my love.” There are few things better than these quiet morning moments, and you savor them when you can. Work days are far too busy for cuddling so weekends are precious and holidays? Even more so.

“I’m so glad you agreed to come.” He admits quietly. “They are crazy and loud, but they are my family and I love them.” He grins. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Being held against his chest and wrapped up in bed with him is your safe place, but the morning is calling with loud voices so you place a kiss over his heart and stretch. “So exactly how many of your million cousins are coming today?”

“All of them?” He poses it as question and then laughs. “I think after the news I was bringing my new wife leaked, everyone decided to turn it into a family reunion.”

“Ahhh.” That makes you nod in understanding. “So it’s a really good thing that I packed nice clothes for this trip. Got it.” You had prepared for it, expecting to be a little bit on display, but you know how excited he is to be home. It made you want to work extra hard to make a good impression on his family.

“Don’t worry, they will absolutely love you.” He promises. His hand slides down and he pats your ass. “We need to get up and get the day started though.”

“Come on, handsome.” You haul yourself up with a groan after one more kiss. “Let’s get dressed.”

He chuckles as he watches you grumpily get up. You never like to leave a bed without a few good groans and it’s positively endearing to him.

“My body knows it’s a holiday,” you grumble good naturedly, as if you don’t groan about getting up for about three or four sentences every morning regardless. “It’s protesting.”

“Of course it’s protesting.” He shakes his head, climbing out of the bed with far more enthusiasm and starting to make the bed. “You would sleep for twenty-three hours out of the day if you could.”

“Only since adulthood.” Getting ready together is a nice, soothing little ritual and you pull your clothes out of your suitcase with precision. “When I was younger I could just go, go, go. But now?” You shrug and offer him a smile. “Why wouldn’t I want to be in bed these days? You’re there, too.”

He grins and winks at you. “You know, I think I like your thinking.” He flirts shamelessly with you, enjoying how easy it is.

“My logic is unflappable.” You boast, grinning at him and giggling, mood lifted immensely just by his smile. “But we need to get dressed, sir. You have a football game to play, if I remember my Pike family traditions correctly.”

“That’s true. It’s always best to come to the table with black eyes and bloody noses.” He chuckles and strips off his sleep shirt to pull on a sweatshirt.

“How do you expect me to function properly with the mental image of you being rugged and athletic and then the real image of you shirtless? It’s just unfair.”

He hums, smirking at the pouting tone of your voice and he bites his lip. “You’ll have a good view from the kitchen window.”

“Kitchen window?” Even though you know that’s where you’ll be most of the time — what with his mother loving to cook and his sister Kelly running a restaurant in the nearest city with two of their cousins — you still make noises. “My ass is going to be on that porch with a mug of something warm for a front row view.”

He snorts and walks back over to kiss you before he changes from comfortable boxers to more secure boxer briefs. Less chance of his brother ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the groin again this year. “Don’t worry, I’m sure all of you will be out there at some point.”

"I will be sure to spearhead that viewing party." You promise him before patting his ass with a smirk. "I will be watching very disrespectfully."

"What will I get when I score a touchdown?" He waggles his brows at you suggestively.

"Something that is not family friendly." And that is an absolute promise. "Now come on, handsome. I have a whole lot of Pikes to meet."

"Damnit." Marcus hisses quietly, reaching down to readjust himself in those boxer briefs before he slides on his sweats. "Now I want to go back to bed."

"Love youuuu," you sing-song, sashaying back across the room to your stack of clothes.

******

Downstairs is the general chaos that Marcus had expected and he's halfway down the stairs when he hears his brother Alex shouting. "SHUT UP, stop talking about them! They're coming!"

It throws you into an unexpected fit of giggles, and you have to pause mid-stair to compose yourself before hitting the ground floor just behind Marcus. "Nothing bad, I hope?" You ask, coming around the corner to where the living room, hallway, and kitchen are overflowing with your husband's extended family.

Alex, an older, slightly more rugged version of his younger brother with their mother's nose, grins at you. "Oh, just taking bets on if you were making a baby or freaking out about meeting this nut house of family members." He admits shamelessly.

"I am that dreaded thing known as a Night Owl," you admit with your hand on your heart, as if you were admitting to some dreadful sin. "It takes me a couple of extra minutes to get going in the morning. Nothing nefarious, I am sorry to report."

"Ohhhhh nooooooo, Marc – say it isn't so?" Clutching his hand to his chest, he looks at his brother in horror. Always the comically dramatic one of the bunch, he plays it up for all he's worth considering that the entire family is focused on all of you right now. He grins and winks at you just in case you aren't aware that he's not serious. "Take her back! Take her back to the wife store!"

"No returns." With a smirk and a smothered laugh, you wave your ring in the air —  earning you some whoops and hollers from the assembled women of the Pike family. "Now I'm gonna get some tea, you boys play nice."

"Damn, she's way too good looking for your ugly ass." As soon as you sail by him, Alex grabs Marcus and pulls him in for a bone crushing hug that only brothers can give. "Fuck, it's good to see you."

"We all missed you." His sister Kelly is on the other side of him immediately, smacking Alex's arm away so she can hug their baby brother.

"Miss you too." He laughs, looking over her shoulder as he hugs his favorite sibling. "You, not Alex." He clarifies and grins when his older brother shoots him a bird.

"No one misses Alex," she laughs, sticking her tongue out at the oldest of the Pike siblings with glee. In typical middle child fashion, Kelly had become loud and active and attention-grabbing in her own right. All of which might have also been a survival tactic for having two very individual brothers. "You're good, Marc? Not working too hard? Mom said they still haven't given you your damn promotion."

"It's coming." He promises with a nod of his head. "Right now, I'm just riding out my time as a flunkie so I can spend more time with my gorgeous wife instead of balancing department budgets late into the night." He tells her with a grin as his eyes slide over the kitchen, hoping for a glance of you.

"Ugh," his sister groans, fully teasing. "He's still in the honeymoon period."

"Hope it never ends." Marcus rolls his eyes when he looks back at her, but he's not lying. He hopes your marriage is just as strong as his parents’. They were in love until the day his father passed and still his mother will happily say that he is the love of her life.

"Gross." Alex chimes in, grimacing at his brother for full effect. It doesn't matter that he and Kelly are both happily married to supportive spouses that they love with all their hearts. They have to tease Marcus.

"Yep." Marcus smirks at his older brother. "She gave me cooties." He warns childishly.

"It's supposed to be the other way around, ya know." Alex ruffles Marcus's short hair and needles his younger brother with glee. "You're supposed to give her cooties. Or did you not pay attention in sex ed?"

He takes the ruffling of his hair with only a small groan and chuckles as he dodges another swipe. "Oh, I paid attention." He promises. "I'm a Boy Scout, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolls his eyes. "You never let us forget. Perfect youngest child with his perfect extracurriculars and now his perfect job." Though the older brother might gripe, they're all very proud of Marcus. It's just more fun to make fun.

"Don't forget, perfect wife." Marcus adds. As much shit as they give him, they were also his biggest support system when he was going through his divorce. They had kept him sane and he loves them for it.

"Do we call this 'the third time's the charm'?" Kelly asks, lightly teasing but so incredibly glad to see their little brother happy again. And happier, if this morning is any indication, than they've seen him with any partner before. "I'm gonna tell her all your most embarrassing stories while you guys are playing football. The ones that Mom doesn't know."

"I've already told her." He lies through his teeth, aware that he's not come close to telling you all his embarrassing stories, but he has to put on a brave front. Any and all fear will be utilized against him if he doesn't stand strong. Shrugging, he pretends to be unconcerned. "So go ahead."

"Gonna call your bluff, little brother," she announces before hustling off to find you in the kitchen.

"Shit." He hisses under his breath, dreading what stories she will spread. Alex chuckles and shakes his head. "You're in for it now, little brother."

The kitchen is a different sort of chaos on this Christmas Eve morning, but the sound of the kids watching A Muppet Christmas Carol in the living room is a welcome soundtrack to all the fuss. "It's their tradition," Julia is explaining to you, talking about the next generation of young cousins and their movie choice. "Their parents and some of the older siblings get in on the lawn football game, but they like to watch Christmas movies all morning until we're ready to break out the stuff to make gingerbread houses after lunch."

“Ohhhhh wifey.” Kelly trills as she floats into the kitchen, stopping by the fridge to pull out the bottles of Prosecco she had put in there when she arrived. “It is my duty as your sister-in-law – the best one – to ply you with alcohol and tell you embarrassing stories about my baby brother.” She grins as she holds up the bottle. “Now, OJ or cranberry juice?”

The laugh that bubbles out of you with Kelly's appearance is honest and light, and you finish your last sip of tea before attempting to speak. "It’s a little too early for alcohol for me, but makes yours with a little bit of both." The suggestion is full of absolute certainty and you add, "Trust me," when she tilts her head at you with curiosity. "One part OJ, one part cranberry, two parts bubbly. It's perfect. I’ll just have equal parts orange juice and cranberry juice for now. That’s also absolutely delicious."

“Alright…sounds pretty good. I’ll give it a try.” Her eyes slide over to Julia and she raises a brow. “Mom? Are you in?” She asks mischievously.

"You two have fun." Julia shakes her head, bowing out in favour of letting her middle child and the family's newest member have some one-on-one time. "I'm going to get lunch in the oven early, I think. So we can all relax a little."

“Of course.” Kelly rolls her eyes and looks at you with a grin. “You’ll love Mom’s lasagna. It’s a tradition.”

"I've heard nothing but amazing things." In fact, Marcus has been raving about his mother's cooking. "I hear it's on the menu at your restaurant, too? The famous family recipe."

Kelly nods and shrugs slightly as she snags two champagne flutes from the cabinet. “Still can’t make it as good as Mom can.” She admits shamelessly.

"That's Mom Magic," you hum, not quite admitting out loud that it's the type of magic you want to have one day.

“Also probably the secret ingredient that she’s not telling me about.” Kelly teases her Mom, knowing there’s no ingredient, but loving to rag on her.

"Patience," Julia tells her definitively as she starts to bustle around the kitchen again. "It's patience. And my kids all love instant gratification."

Kelly snorts as she pours the juices into the glasses. “Of course we do, Mom. Why do you think you have grandkids?”

"Could always use some more!" She sing-songs, glancing in your direction with a smirk before turning back to her task at hand.

“Mom, don’t scare her off by being greedy.” Kelly scolds her mother playfully. “If they want to give you more grandkids, they will do it on their schedule.” It’s important that you understand that they will tease and play but they will never be those obnoxious in-laws that demand you do things their way or give them what they want for your life. It was always what Marcus’s ex-fiancée had claimed, that they were too pushy, when they had just been asking questions about their future.

“It’s okay,” you assure both women, not scared off in the least. “We do want kids, just not quite yet. We’re enjoying the honeymoon period a little too much to want to change anything just yet.”

Even though you’re talking about her brother, Kelly grins and winks at you as she picks up her mimosa and hands you your juice. “Practice makes perfect, right?” She jokes.

It’s not even worth hiding your smirk or the mild embarrassment in your face, since she’s absolutely right. “Something like that,” you agree with burning hot cheeks.

“See? You’ll have more grandbabies in no time, Mom.” Kelly taps her glad to yours. “Welcome to the nut house.” She welcomes you. “We don’t bite…hard.”

If it was his friends instead of his family, you might tease that Marcus does bite hard, but his mother and sister don’t need to know about the tender marks on your inner thighs. “Thank you for having me,” you joke instead. “I’m very glad to join this particular nut house.”

“We are happy to have you.” Julia promises as she carefully covers the massive lasagna in multiple layers of aluminum foil. Not wanting the top to burn. Luckily, she had already put it together the day before so it’s ready to go.

******

You were warned about the football game. You really were. Marcus had tried to impress upon you how over-the-top he gets with his brother and brother-in-law and cousins. You had thought touch football on the front lawn was a sort of cute, insanely all-American tradition to have. Even in the snow it had sounded quaint. Now that they’re halfway through the game, though? You can see the people who really have fun with this tradition are the wives and girlfriends. The group of you are up on the porch with mugs of wassail either shouting encouragements or giggling to yourselves in appreciation of attractive men tackling each other (partially) for your amusement.

Even though it’s colder than hell, the men have nearly all removed their shirts. Panting and sweating as they try to their hardest to beat the shit out of each other for sport.

“I love football.” Alex’s wife chuckles when she comes up beside you and Kelly and hands you both iced gingerbread cookies.

“Pass interference!” Marcus shouts, shaking his head and huffing after his cousin shoved him out of the way. “That’s bullshit!”

“Forgot how to play dirty, Fed?” His cousin laughs it off, having discarded his Omaha Fire Department sweatshirt on the porch railing. “Fight back, Marcus!”

“Aren’t you the one who had to have a pack of peas on your nuts last year?” Marcus taunts back. “Thought you were gonna use those tiny peanuts to make a baby?”

“Twins on the way, baby!” The cousin – Ryan – cheers back, like somehow he was extra virile enough to cause twins, rather than it being entirely up to his wife’s anatomy.

“Alright, alright, focus up assholes.” Alex calls, bringing the two men back into the fold of the game. Good natured smack talk is all part of the fun, of course.

“He’s just mad he can’t throw.” Ryan shouts from the other side, grinning when Alex shoots him a bird. “Most interceptions of all the QBs.”

Shaking off the heckling with a laugh, Marcus waves at you and blows a kiss up to the porch as he jogs by to retake his position. “So you’re Marcus’s new…fiancée?”

You hear the question from elsewhere on the porch and you turn to face the speaker. “Wife.” It’s his cousin Ryan’s pregnant wife, of course, and you steel yourself with a forced smile. Marcus’s cousin Ryan had married his ex-wife years after the divorce. Honestly you can’t quite figure out how the whole family seems okay with it, but they are. “I’m his wife.”

“Oh?” Her eyes widen and her hand stops rubbing her rounded stomach. “That’s— I hadn’t heard! Congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you.” She actually seems to mean it instead of having some underlying sarcasm, and that soothes you right away. “It was recent. I guess word is still getting around.”

“I’m sure Julia wanted to make a big toast tonight.” She bites her lip and sighs. “I’m Vanessa. I hope you don’t hold it against me.”

“Honestly?” A small laugh bubbles out of you, surprising you both. “I ought to thank you. If you hadn’t divorced him, then I could never have married him.”

Staring at you for a second, she grins back at you. “You’re welcome, then. Part of the cousin-in-law package.” She snorts. “Free of charge, of course.”

While you don’t think Marcus ever would have lied to you about what happened, it seemed a little too straight forward to you. Like maybe he was leaving something out to spare feelings, which is definitely something your sweet and generally gentle husband would do. “I hope it really was as painless as Marcus says.”

“Oh, Marcus was – is – amazing.” Vanessa insists immediately, having enough affection for Marcus that she is still willing and able to come to his defense. “We met freshman year of college, decided it was love, and didn’t have a clue what love really was.” She shakes her head. “We adore each other, just— as friends and not partners.”

“I admit, I couldn’t really understand why the whole family seemed totally fine with everything.” Deciding to be honest, you just shrug and take a sip of wassail. “But it only takes thirty seconds to realize that there’s no ill will, and that’s…it’s a big comfort.”

“I met Ryan when I was working on my masters.” Vanessa admits with a sheepish grin. “He had been in the military and deployed when I was with Marcus. I didn’t even know until we were talking about meeting the folks.”

“It would have been a very awkward surprise.” Being able to laugh together is a relief, one that you’re not going to take for granted at all. “I’m glad to see that everyone has ended up happy. That’s so rarely the way, and it’s a shame.”

“It is a shame and I hated that Marcus was having a rough go for a while.” She frowns fiercely and shakes her head. “I don’t know what that Lisbon lady was thinking but she could have done so much better breaking things off with him.”

“She doesn’t have the greatest reputation around the office.” You admit, though the whispers have gotten to you through backways, and only since you started seeing Marcus so you’re sure you only hear the bad stuff. “Either way, everyone is happy. That’s what matters.”

Vanessa nods after a moment, her frown turning into a smile. “I understand if you find it odd, or don’t like me on the principle that I’ve slept with your husband, but I hope we can be friends.”

"It doesn't make any sense to be upset with you over something that happened years before Marcus and I ever even met." Putting your hand out to her, the offer of a handshake is your formal show of a truce. No hard feelings. Not from your end. "I'm happy to be friends."

“Well, that went better than I ever hoped.” Amy admits, coming out of the kitchen with a fresh bottle of Prosecco. “Top off on mimosas, anyone? The juice content is getting a little high.”

A few people around the porch take her up on the offer, but you politely shake your head and decide to stick with wassail. The game seems to be wrapping up as well, which means it will soon be time to do the traditional Pike family Christmas Eve gift exchange before dinner. At some point Marcus's mother had read about the Icelandic tradition of receiving a book to read on Christmas Eve and loved it so much that it has become tradition.

“Whoever gets ’Beautiful Secret’….” Vanessa hums, waggling her eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

"Welcome to the real tradition," Kelly jokes, looping her arm through yours as the group from the porch starts to pour back into the house in advance of the football players. "Most of the books exchanged between the adult members of the family are a little...saucy."

“Mom pretends she doesn’t know any of them.” Amy snorts, grinning knowingly. “But that woman has a stash of trashy romance novels from the seventies in the attics and somehow, those boxes are multiplying.”

"Marcus clued me in," you promise, following your two sisters-in-law inside. "I brought my best offering, I promise." The choice you made was very specific, and really has one recipient in mind. Even thinking about it just makes you nervous for what’s to come.

“Of course he did.” There’s a grin tossed your way. “Marcus was the one who was always reading Mom’s books when she wasn’t looking.”

"I'm not even mad about it." A laugh bubbles out of you that you don't bother to stifle, and you shrug. "It's purely educational for him, I swear."

“Ugh, I don’t want to know about my brother’s bedroom habits.” His sister shudders playfully before she points her finger at you. “As long as he’s taking care of you.”

“Oh, I promise.” He’s more than taking care of you. Marcus treats you like a queen. But Kelly doesn’t want to know that so you just smile and let the happy, hazy expression on your face do the talking for you.

“Ohhhhhhh.” All the women in the kitchen making a knowing noise and grin at you. “That answers that.”

“Answers what?” The oldest Pike sibling is the one to lead the charge into the kitchen and Alex makes his way over to his wife to kiss her before going for a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“If your brother is taking care of his responsibilities.” The kiss is accompanied by a cheeky grin.

“I thought you couldn’t talk about the case yet?” Alex looks back at Marcus, who comes into the kitchen behind him.

Marcus frowns in confusion and props his hands on his hips as he catches his breath. “Huh?”

“Not that,” you laugh, reaching to give your sweaty husband a hug. “We were just talking about the book exchange and got a little off-topic.”

“Oh?” He eyes his sister and sister-in-law with playful suspicion. “Don’t believe a word they say.” He jokes.

“Sure, honey.” You snicker lightly. “But they should believe me.”

“Of course.” He scoffs, leaning in and dropping a soft kiss on your lips with a grin. “Federal agents are held up to a high standard.”

“Yes, we absolutely are.” It earns him another kiss, and those familiar butterflies in your belly that have been so active lately swell up again at just how much you love him.

“I’m gonna jump in the shower.” Marcus tells you. “Kicking ass made me sweaty.” He grins again.

“Hurry back.” Partly because you miss having him at your side, but also because it’s almost time for the book exchange, and you’re just as excited as you after nervous for that.

Marcus winks. “Of course, sweetheart. Ten minutes, tops.”

“Then we’ll start the book exchange in ten minutes.” His mother decides. And the kids can go first, just in case he takes a few extra minutes.”

“And so they are reading.” Vanessa snorts. “Less likely to pay attention to our books.”

“Probably better for everyone,” you agree, offering a smile and a knowing laugh.

******

Marcus is true to his word, bouncing down the stairs with wet hair and fresh clothes nine minutes later. The spicy, musky cologne he’s wearing is one that you picked for him and he loves it. “I’m back. So stop talking about me.”

“It’s only good things, babe.” When he plops down beside you in the living room window seat, he has a wrapped gift in his hand that looks like the size of a standard novel and it makes the thick volume in your lap feel even heavier. No turning back now…you remind yourself silently.

Mistaking your slightly tighter grip on the book as nerves, Marcus reaches over and takes your hand. “They love you, babe.” He whispers confidently. “My brother was already telling me he likes you more than he likes me.” It was a joke, but it makes him happy that you are so easily accepted into the fold.

“Alex seems easily swayed,” you tease, leaning into Marcus’s side. “All I had to do was promise to listen to all of his favorite embarrassing stories about you.”

“Thanks, creep.” Marcus scowls at Alex, pretending to be mad while his brother hams it up. “Anytime man!”

“Alright, alright.” Julia comes back into the living room with her own parcel in her hands. “Kiddos first. Everybody circle up!” The grandkids and cousins scramble to comply, all sitting around together knee to knee after strategically choosing who to sit next to like their lives depend on it. When Grandma Julia gives the word, everyone passes the book in their hands to the person to their left.

“Now. Exchange the book with the person across from you.” Julia grins as the shuffle starts.The kids eagerly comply, giggling gleefully, and then again when Julia tells them to pass their books two people to the right this time. Around and around, the books pass, each kid squealing when the brightly colored package they want gets closer. “Alright just two more moves.” She warns. The books get passed across the circle diagonally and then once more three people to the left before Julia says to go ahead and open their gifts, and then she turns to the adults with a grin. “Ours is less complicated,” she promises. She likes to get the kids riled up but the adults are always already so tired that she just turns on a Christmas song and announces that the game is ‘musical books’. “Just pass it to the right until I tell you to stop or the song ends.” White Christmas begins to play and you anxiously hand your wrapped book over to Marcus as they begin to go around the circle.

Marcus grins as the groaning from the adults starts. The jokes and the laughter as they try to shove the books into the person next them as fast as they can. “It’s fun!” He promises you.

It is fun. Or it would be, if you weren’t praying that his mother remembered her end of the deal that you made last night after Marcus had shooed you both out of the kitchen to wash up after dinner. You had admitted that your book gift was specifically for your husband and she had assured you that she would make sure it ended up in his hands. You just hope she sticks to that.

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Julia is watching the book like a hawk. Making sure that it’s close. “Aaaand…stop!” She orders.

Your heart leaps when the large book ends up in Marcus’s hands, and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. “Everybody open up!” Kelly laughs excitedly, but you can’t. Frozen in your seat beside your husband, you watch as he peels the carefully folded and taped wrapping paper to expose the bright yellow cover of the book you selected for him. At this point you’re just holding your breath, not realizing the entire room is watching you.

Marcus reads the book’s title and frowns for a moment. This was your gift. “I— babe?” He sputters, looking up at you with the most hopeful expression on his face.

“Open it,” you murmur softly, already starting to tear up at the light in his eyes.

“But you said—” he doesn’t want to admit how he had wished you had said you were ready when you kept saying it wasn’t the right time, but he wasn’t going to push you. “Okay.” Opening the book, he finally looks away from you.

The dated sonogram is staring him in the face when he pulls open the cover of We’re Pregnant! The First Time Dad’s Pregnancy Handbook accompanied by a handwritten note in the deep blue ink of your favourite pen.

“Meeting you was a surprise, falling in love with you was as easy as breathing. Marrying you came like wildfire, and now being parents is our next great adventure. The tiniest Agent Pike is expected in July.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus chokes out, barely able to breathe as he stares at the tiny little nugget on the picture. “Babe…we’re gonna be parents.” It hits him and the book is dropped into his lap as he surges forward to kiss you.

The entire crowd of Marcus’s family around you have exploded into a ruckus of gasps and shouts and cheering, but your world has narrowed down only to him. You’ve been sitting on this secret for two while weeks and barely managed to contain your own excitement. Sure, you had said you wanted to wait. To enjoy being married first. But that baby was having none of it. It bypassed your birth control like a champ, and from the moment your doctor told you it wasn’t stress or a seasonal flu running you down, you’ve been ecstatic.

“Baby, baby.” Marcus can’t help but giggle and grin against your lips as he kisses you over and over again. “I love you. So much. I can’t—”

“Breathe, baby.” And yet you can’t help giggling, breathless right along with him. “Can’t have you hyperventilating on me. We’re gonna have to get through a whole lot in the next seven months.”

“I— I thought you wanted to wait.” He shakes his head, trying to understand when this happened, how. Even if he logistically knows how.

“I thought I wanted to wait, too.” You shrug, though, laughing through giddy tears. “But I’m so excited, honey. I can’t believe I actually managed to keep it a secret.”

“Oh my God.” Marcus pulls you close, everyone around him fading to the background as he focuses on you. “I can’t believe you did either.” He admits, unable to stop beaming at you. “This is— you can’t ever top this Christmas present.” He decides with a laugh.

“Nope. Never.” Wrapped up in him is exactly where you want to be, but first you wipe the tears from under his eyes and press kisses to his cheeks. “But I have no problem with our first Christmas being our best.”

“I love you so much.” Marcus can’t even stop himself from caressing your stomach, in awe of the knowledge there’s your baby inside.

“I love you, too.” You’ve already lost track of how many times you’ve had your hand on your unchanged stomach since you found out about the baby, and you know that that’s only going to increase now that you can do it together. “And I love this little peanut so damn much.”

“You’re gonna be a Mom.” He chuckles. “And I’m gonna be a Dad.” He’s always wanted to be the father that his own was. Continuing the legacy of Pike dads.

“Merry Christmas, love.” Murmured against his lips, you kiss him one more time before his whole family descends on you with shrieked glee and hugs and a deluge of congratulations. Your first Christmas with the Pikes will probably never be topped, but that’s okay. It’s the perfect next step in your perfectly imperfect life.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

[jordie-gvf]

daddys girl, jake kiszka

fluffy dad!jake fic

warnings : fluff, language

word count

i want to preface this, in this fic, there will be a part when it talks about smoking weed at the age of 18. in the time frame, the legal smoking age was 18 not 21.

As soon as Harper was born, you knew she and her father were going to be attached at the hip. 

Her third birthday, he got her a mini piano, identical to Uncle Sammy’s. You would've thought the Gods above had crafted this gift with their higher power. She would not stop playing that piano.

Her thirteenth birthday, a phone. If you two had it your way, she wouldn't have a phone until she moved out. But “Mamma, all of my friends have phones! Why can't I get one too? I want one! Why do you guys have to be so mean!” Meanwhile, all you told her was she could get one for her birthday, which had been a month away.

Her first breakup. Jake had come home after being in the studio from nine in the morning to six at night. He had a plate of takeout chinese and a cold beer on the table. He looked for his girls, but all he heard was loud sobs and your calming voice. “He wasn't worth it, love. He was a douchebag, his car had a vanity plate, baby.” He heard his baby girl crying and his wife's soothing comments. “I know you loved him, but he was an asshole who only wanted one thing.”

Jake walked upstairs to his daughters bedroom and spoke softly. “If it makes you feel better, I really didn't like him.”

Both girls looked up and Harper got off her bed and ran immediately into her fathers arms, “Daddy!”

“Hi, my sweet girl.” He cradled her head and let her sob into his chest. He looked at you and saw you wiping tears off your face.

The new baby. “Mom! How could you not tell me you were pregnant!” She was elated to find out you were pregnant, let alone with her little brother. 

Once Hendrix came along, she had gotten a little more independent. You and Jake had caught her sneaking out and coming home at four in the morning quite a few times. After school one day, you both sat her down while Hendrix was asleep. “You know, we don't appreciate being lied to. We’ve heard you come home, every morning at four. This needs to stop, we don't know where you go or who you are with and you smell like weed, which is not good for your brother. We are very disappointed in you, Harper Kelly.” 

She looked teary eyed as Jake scolded her. Jake stood up and pointed to the direction of her room and he walked away to your shared bedroom. No sooner did he leave, she broke down. 

“I didn't mean to make you guys upset. I just wanted to be like everyone else.”

You grabbed her face and told her, “You don't need to be like everyone else. You're Harper Kelly Kiszka. Not Michaela, not Janie, not Rob, you're Harper.” You kissed her forehead and directed her to her bedroom. 

She went upstairs sulking, while you went to check on Jake. You leaned on the door frame and crossed your arms. “Why would she need to leave at one in the morning to go smoke. Doesn't she know that we do and once she turned of legal age we would've done it with her if she wanted to?”

You laughed and said, “I don't know, I never smoked with my parents and they were hippies, my brother's name is Street. And the first time I ever smoked was with you, at Whites Bar, on your 18th birthday.” 

“Was it really?” 

You nodded and moved next to him on the bed. “Jake, she needed a wake up call. She's failing all her classes and she has no desire to do anything.”

“Jesus, she's just like me in high school, sneaking out to make out with girls and smoke weed.”

“I was the only girl you were dating in high school, Jake.”

“Exactly. I can only imagine what prom is gonna be like.”

He spoke too soon. Prom night was tonight and you couldn't console Jake. You had been upstairs, teaching her how to use rollers for her hair while she did her makeup. Dress shopping had been a nightmare. You almost fought some broad at Windsor for the dress Harper wanted.

Once her girlfriend showed up, she came downstairs with her makeup all done with her corsage. Jake had been standing with Julie at the end of the stairs, hand on Julie's shoulder, tears welling in his eyes. Being the cliche mom you were, you had your phone recording the entire thing. 

She had fully made her way down the stairs and had given a small kiss to Julie. Jake pulled Harper into his arms and cradled her head, the same way he had done years prior. “Make smart choices, both of you. Julie, dont keep her out all night, okay? Before you ask, yes, you can stay the night.”

They had gone on their way and you and Jake saw them off, waving while Julie drove away. “I really hope no one brings alcohol,” he said, laughing.

“Remember what we did on prom night?”

“Yeah, snuck out and left to go to Waffle House with Josh and Ronnie. Ended up staying there until two in the morning. Karen was not happy.” 

“Yeah I bet, because my mom had my ass too.”

“I always wonder what would've happened if we never ran into each other, literally.” 

You were late for school, as per usual. You peeled out of the driveway and flew to the high school. You pulled into your parking space to see another car pulling into the space in front of you. You were going a little too fast around the corner and didn't see the tan minivan.

“Oh fuckin A! Dude, don't know where you're going, pay attention!” You screamed at him from the inside of your car. He looked at you and put his hand over his mouth. You grabbed your backpack and you both got out of your respected cars. “I am so sorry! I totally didn't see you. Let me call my mom.”

“I don't care about your mom, I'm late.”

“That car accident was totally my fault.”

“Yeah it was, baby. But we won't talk about it.”

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s HS SSR Story: Carefree Years (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a story, 岁月无忧, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

Do remember to read the event stories beforehand for further info and understanding: ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡ || ♡

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

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【Subbed Video】

Work in progress, will add the link once it’s uploaded :>

【Transcript Version】

[Notes]: The story is told from young Victor’s perspective + includes the narrator’s POV towards the end sporadically~ 💕

—

【Chapter 1】

It’s early autumn, and Loveland City hasn’t yet shaken off the lingering summer heat. The breeze, still carrying the residual heat, slips through the cracks of the windows into the dormitory, dispelling the slight chill. 

The hour hand of the alarm clock by the bedside is about to point to six. I roll out of bed, pick up my toiletry bag, and turn around, heading for the door. 

—

Once I’m done freshening up, I plan to go to the cafeteria for breakfast before heading to the classroom to drop off my backpack. 

Considering the time required for submitting summer vacation assignments, preparing for the first class, and accounting for any unforeseen circumstances… 

I should have enough time before I need to be at the playground at 7:30 to confirm the final proceedings with the emcee of the flag-raising ceremony. 

??: Morning, Bro Vic~ 

A slurred voice sounds from the side just as I wipe the water off my face, and then that familiar face comes into view. 

With his mouth full of toothpaste foam, Zheng Xi tilts his head back and makes gurgling sounds as he rinses his mouth. His hair is so disheveled that it could hide a couple of eggs within. 

Victor: Morning.

Victor: It’s rare to see you not stepping on the dot. 

Zheng Xi: New semester, fresh start. Besides, we can’t lose face to our seniors. Must follow the examples of Bro Vic! 

Victor: Don’t make things harder for yourself, and don’t end up straining your neck when the time comes. 

Zheng Xi: …cracking cold jokes on such a hot day. I must thank you for it. 

As he speaks, he haphazardly wipes his face a few times and then carelessly tosses the toothbrush into the washbasin. 

— 

The corridor has become much livelier when I walk out of the dorm room again after changing into the school uniform and hanging my backpack over my shoulders. 

Accompanied by the sound of flowing water, the jingling and clattering sounds reverberate through the corridor in the early morning. The doors of different dorm rooms swing open and then close, as if orchestrating a concerto unique to high school life. 

Walking beside me, Zheng Xi suddenly begins to talk. 

Zheng Xi: You haven’t said hello to our new roommates yet, have you? One of them was in Section 6, and the other was in Section 9. 

Victor: Oh, didn’t we have a quick encounter earlier? 

Zheng Xi: Saying hello means introducing yourself, not just exchanging a brief glance and nodding, okay? 

…it seems like one summer break isn’t enough for someone with a young-at-heart mentality to have much growth. 

Victor: If only you could channel this meticulous attention to every wording in your reading comprehension, “Empress Dowager Hu” wouldn’t call on you to answer questions every class. 

Zheng Xi: Don’t jinx me! Also, my mom practically had detained me these past two months to catch up on Chinese. Who knows, I might have improved by leaps and bounds. 

Zheng Xi: Speaking of which, why would teachers like “Empress Dowager Hu” who receives awards yearly, teach liberal arts classes? Oh well, damn lucky Wu Xing! 

Victor: Well, that’s not necessarily the case. 

Victor: I’m afraid pulling up the Chinese language grades for a student like you who is biased towards specific subjects is more about showcasing your skills. 

As expected, the wails of anguish resound. I shake my head helplessly, finding myself already somewhat accustomed to this. 

I just can’t wrap my head around how this guy who’s been getting nearly perfect scores in math since the first year of high school can be so one-track-minded in other subjects. 

— 

As we walk into Section 1 of the first year, I find that quite a few students have already arrived. Among them are both familiar and unfamiliar faces. 

Some are in groups, chatting about their summer vacation experiences, while others sit alone at their desks, organizing their textbooks. 

I cast a brief glance at the seating chart on the blackboard and quickly find my name. 

Surprisingly, it’s the same seat as before. That’s actually good. 

Just as I’m about to lift my foot, I notice the person next to me is still squinting while trying to find his name. 

Victor: You can stop searching; you’re in the first row. 

Zheng Xi: … 

After setting down my backpack, I find that inside the desk, there’s a carton of milk, its outer packaging still oozing moisture from the condensation.

Whose is this? And why is it placed here? 

Before I can even inquire, my arm is poked with a pen cap. 

I tilt my head and see a boy I’m not that familiar with pointing at the milk carton in my hand. 

Boy: Um… I put it there. Don’t take it the wrong way–– I’m just helping someone out. I’m delivering it for a girl who used to be in my former Section 6. 

Zheng Xi: Whoa–– it’s been ages since I’ve seen a scene like this. I almost feel like I’ve traveled back to our first year. 

Zheng Xi walks over to poke his nose in as he hears the noise, wearing a gossipy look. 

Zheng Xi: I know many folks from Section 6. Who is this brave soul? Spill the beans. 

Boy: Uh, she specifically told me not to disclose her identity… 

Zheng Xi: F*ck! Quite smart to keep her identity under wraps. It’s a shame, though, cause she’s also fallen into the pit. How come she hasn’t heard about our Bro Vic’s wide reputation for being strictly incorruptible and not getting anywhere near girls? 

He lowers his voice as he speaks, feigning a sense of mystery. 

Zheng Xi: Besides, there’s a name this guy keeps murmuring about in his dreams all the time…

Victor: Was your summer vacation too boring since you had to keep these words pent up for two whole months? 

Victor: Here, drink this to moisten your throat. 

Victor: So you don’t get stuck while trying to recite Classical Chinese in the first class. 

– 

I toss the milk to him, grab the speech notes, and stand up to walk out of the classroom. Sure enough, a wave of cries akin to “wailing ghosts and howling wolves” follow from behind.

Zheng Xi: See– see! Such foul temper and unapproachable look on his face! I bet it won’t be long before everyone who wants to give him a gift will be scared away! 

It’d be the best outcome– ideal to avoid any complications. 

– 

I stride down the stairs with big steps, until the refreshing air fills my nostrils. 

Victor: [murmuring to himself]  …how could I possibly sleep-talk in my dreams, [sounds as if he’s telling himself–]  idiot. 

Thinking about Zheng Xi’s incessant chatter leaves me speechless. Even though they all unanimously claim that I do mention that name in my sleep, I remain skeptical. 

While searching for information about the orphanage incident, it's highly likely that I came across the compiled data from the past few years. 

Inhaling a deep breath, I continue walking toward the playground. 

To be honest, I’m not oblivious to the significance of those gifts and the feelings that can blossom at this age. It’s just that, personally, I don’t find them as something necessary. 

Time has always been best spent on more important endeavors, whether achieving short-term goals or paving the path for long-term plans. From this point on, it’s crucial to be adequately prepared. 

Anything unrelated to these matters is just a waste of time. 

I take another turn, and sunlight filters through the greenery, casting vibrant patches on the plastic athletic track, creating a colorful dance. 

It’s 7:10 sharp, right on the dot. 

— 

[Tidbits]: For those who are unaware, all the dream-talk is a reference to Victor’s R&S “Six out of Seventeen,” (find the translation here by @/cheri-translates), which touched upon the extent of his long and strenuous search for MC— including the little crumbs as how he’d call a girl’s name in his sleep and his roommates would tease him about it– which we got to see a bit here as well. I do VERY HIGHLY recommend reading all the canceled R&S for yourself because if you haven’t, you have NO IDEA what you’re missing out on! ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽ 

—

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—

【Chapter 2】

Victor: Teacher. Reporting! 

The people in the office glance up at my voice, the rapid movement of their pens coming to a pause. Teacher Hu adjusts the wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose, displaying a composed smile. 

Teacher Hu: Come in, Vic.

Teacher Hu: Here— the mock Chinese exam papers for our section. Take them and hand them out. I’ll discuss them during the class later. 

As she speaks, she taps the stack of test papers on her left with the tip of her pen, then retrieves a laminated file from the drawer. 

Teacher Hu: In here, you’ll find the scores and class-grade rankings for each subject this time. Help me attach them to each student’s respective test papers one by one. 

Teacher Hu: We have an eye exercise break during this class, right? You can stay here and get everything organized before going back. Here, the paperclips. 

Victor: Roger. 

Once Teacher Hu finishes speaking, she resumes grading the papers with her head lowered. It seems … she is grading the Classical Chinese reading exercises from yesterday evening’s self-study session? The moment this thought springs to mind, I quickly glance over. 

Luckily, I answered that set of questions quite smoothly yesterday. 

Thinking this way, my fingertips subconsciously relax as I untie the knot. As expected, the report cards are sorted by student ID. 

Just as I’m about to begin flipping through them from the back, Teacher Hu’s voice sounds right on cue. 

Teacher Hu: Vic, you did quite well in the exam this time, but there is still room for improvement. Your math teacher, Mr. Gao, also asked me to commend you properly. 

Victor: …thank you, Teacher. 

Teacher Hu: Zheng Xi-- that kid has also made some progress. It looks like he’s finally catching on. 

Victor: I’ll relay the message on your behalf and tell him to keep making persistent efforts. 

Soon, I spot my own name among the array of report cards. 

Chinese 132, Math 140, English 125, Physics… 

Victor: [sighing LONG and HARD in disappointment] … 

My gaze at once shifts towards the ranking listed at the bottom of the paper. 

Section Ranking: 4th, Grade Ranking: 13th. 

My heart, which has inexplicably leaped into the air, temporarily settles back into its original place. I continue with the sorting, but my thoughts involuntarily begin to decelerate. 

Thankfully, I’ve performed decently in the physics and chemistry exams, and my ranking is still within the range I had set for myself. 

However, my English score is unexpectedly almost 10 points lower than my estimated score. So, where did things go wrong? 

The classroom bell chimes, and the music for eye exercises flows through the air. I’m unable to come up with an answer, so I just subconsciously speed up my movements. 

Teacher Hu: Xiao Luo turned in the participant list for the Autumn Sports Festival yesterday. I noticed you signed up for the friendly soccer match? 

Victor: Yes. There aren’t many students in our section who play soccer, and I’m somewhat familiar with the basic rules and regulations of the game, so I thought I’d participate to make up the numbers. 

Teacher Hu: That's great; participating in this kind of activity is a good thing. It's important not to focus solely on academics; diverting some of one’s attention to meaningful activities like this can also contribute to their self-development. 

Teacher Hu: Don’t you think so, too? 

I nod in agreement, vaguely sensing that Teacher Hu’s words seem to carry an implicit meaning. After picking up the file bag and exam papers, I slightly bow in her direction. 

Victor: Teacher Hu, I’ll take my leave now. 

Teacher Hu: Sure… ah, Vic, there’s something else I wanted to ask you. 

Teacher Hu: Wu Xing from your former section, is it true that he is dating the academic representative from section 3? 

Victor: Is it? I’m not too sure about that. 

Teacher Hu: Weren’t you two dormitory roommates? 

Victor: Yes, but that was last semester. Since this semester began, I haven’t really seen him much. 

Victor: Regarding your question, the response would be more accurate if he answered it himself. Would you like me to summon him for you? 

Teacher Hu: Hahaha, no need for that. 

Teacher Hu: Those friends of yours who hang out with you should learn to take a page from your book and invest their time and energy in more meaningful pursuits. 

Teacher Hu: Alright, you should head back now. 

– 

Following my parting with Teacher Hu, I walk in large strides toward the academic building— a melodious tune wafts through the campus, melding with the breeze. 

I’m afraid “Master Hu,” asked that question, likely because Wu Xing’s results in the mock exam didn’t meet expectations. 

Admittedly, I “did not disclose the information I knew” earlier, but to be fair, I indeed haven’t seen him around much at all, not only during this semester but throughout the entire summer vacation. 

Rarely, when we finally managed to schedule a long-overdue soccer match during our free time from makeup classes, this guy who prioritizes his date before friendship flaked out on me. 

Victor: [scoffing, BUT BAOBEI YOU’RE GONNA DO THE VERY SAME THING 10+ YEARS LATER 🤣]  How childish. 

– 

I’m not sure if it’s a coincidence or one of those cases where “if your heart ponders something, there will be some sort of corresponding response,” but this “ex-roommate” of mine, whom I haven’t seen around much, shows up out of the blue right after taking his name, for the first time in ages. 

Wu Xing: Sir Vic— VIC— TOR— 

A sneaky voice suddenly drifts from the classroom’s back door during the lunch break. Wu Xing cautiously waves his hand, approaching the unfamiliar classroom with a hint of nervousness. 

Feeling a bit resigned, I walk over and offhandedly close the classroom door behind me. 

Victor: Doesn’t your section have you guys work on test papers during lunch break? 

Wu Xing: Does your section still have you guys work on test papers during lunch break? 

Our questions sound in unison, inexplicably making me laugh, but then I quickly refocus on the matter at hand. 

Victor: You need me for something? 

Wu Xing: For something big. Is Lao Zheng not around? 

Victor: I haven’t seen him. 

He asks as he peers into the classroom through the rear window a couple more times before finally speaking solemnly, as if it truly is something of utmost urgency. 

Wu Xing: Well, let’s go then. Time is of the essence. 

– 

I could have never imagined that the “something big” he was talking about was actually buying snacks from the convenience store outside the school gate. 

The aged iron gate, entwined with crawling vines, has a mottled appearance. Even though the lock is dangling loosely, it offers a firm barrier. The air carries a subtle scent of iron rust and the dampness common to the equipment room. 

The hand clutching the paper money reaches through the gap between the railings, and when it is withdrawn, it holds an assortment of snacks in various packaging bags. 

I hardly ever come to this place, and the handful of times I have been are all thanks to my dormitory roommates. 

Victor: So, this is what you referred to as “something big?” I’m out of here. 

Wu Xing: Ack, Sir Vic, don’t! Don’t roll the dice yet. The “iron rooster” is on patrol duty today. If he catches us, it’ll be bad news. At the very least, we’d probably have to sweep the playground for a whole month! 

Victor: And you’re still going to “commit the crime in broad daylight?” 

Wu Xing: [dramatically]  I have reasons for which I must take this risk. 

Victor: …if it weren’t for your talking nonsense, everything would’ve already been bought. 

As if finally remembering his purpose, Wu Xing briskly rushes toward the iron gate and calls out to the convenience store owner while cupping his throat. 

On his way back, he is busy hiding two large packs of “Meow Meow Snow Cookies” in his school uniform jacket. 

He nonchalantly tears open one of the packs while walking over, and then he stuffs two pieces of snow cookies into my hand without any explanation. 

Victor: No need, keep them for yourself to snack on later. 

Wu Xing: No, no, it’s all thanks to you that I could carry out this daunting mission smoothly. Thank you, my greatest ex-roommate, my former class monitor, my… 

Victor: [sighs helplessly]  …shut up. 

– 

Not wanting to waste more time, I off-handedly stash the two snow cookies into my pocket and motion for him to hurry up. He continues walking alongside me, matching my strides, until we reach the academic building. 

The grating noise created by the plastic rubbing against something makes me furrow my brows, and I can’t help but offer a warning. 

Victor: Your classroom is at that end of the corridor. 

Wu Xing: I’ll go to section 3 first. 

Victor: … 

Wu Xing: LuLu didn’t do well in the mock exam. I think she cried. Her eyes were red when I saw her at the cafeteria during lunch. 

Wu Xing: Although she hasn’t mentioned anything, I’m afraid she might think our relationship is interfering with… 

Wu Xing: I don’t know how to make her happy; I can only think of buying her the Meow Meow Snow Cookies she loves. Bro, say, girls would usually feel happy when they eat something they like, right? 

Victor: [softly]  …I think you might be the one who would be even happier. 

— 

[Tidbits]: kept the notes for last so as not to break the flow— 

✦ uhh they have so many nicknames, ofc it’s expected and relatable LMAO, but GODS THEY ARE a PAIN TO TRANSLATE HHH. Victor addressed Teacher Hu as “胡师太” which I translated as “Master Hu.” In Chinese, it’s essentially another sarcastic play on the other nickname they have for their homeroom teacher, “Empress Dowager Hu,” the message behind which is self-explanatory LOL. 

✦ “Prioritizing date before friendship” – the phrase here was 重色轻友, which in more causal English terms would be “hoes before bros,” haha. 

✦ “Iron Rooster” – here, I did the literal translation of “铁公鸡” to retain the sarcastic effect. It in simpler terms refers to someone being a cheapskate or miserly. 

✦ “Meow Meow snow cookies” (喵喵雪饼) – as the name suggests, they are similar to your usual snow cookies, only cat-shaped and much cuter LOL. 

✦ Victor’s final line about you being happier than the person receiving the gift— yes, as you might’ve already presumed, it’s the 2nd reference to MC in this story, and also a theme that runs through Victor’s contents pretty often— when they’re happy because of you, the cheery smile on the person’s face apparently brings you more joy than the person themselves. 

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Xiao Luo: Victor, how about we play some soccer later? Maybe you could show some of your footwork to the team? 

Despite seeing the expectant look on his face, I still shake my head. 

Victor: Sorry, but today won’t be possible. I can return to the dorm on Sunday morning and have the entire time afterward for practicing. 

Victor: I’ll compile the fundamental tactics and rules later tonight and send them to you on QQ. As for my footwork… I’m an amateur, so the most I can do is share some of my experiences during the actual training session. 

Xiao Luo: Sure thing! Just give me a knock tonight! 

– 

As I walk out of the school gate, the last rays of the setting sun cast a soft, crimson halo over the bustling streets. 

The charm of Friday lies precisely in this, rendering even the usually ordinary sunset into something particularly romantic. 

Soon, the No. 923 bus arrives, and after the crowd has boarded, I stand close to the handrail and shift my backpack to the front. 

The bus isn’t overly crowded at this hour, which makes it easier to fetch one’s belongings without causing any inconvenience to other passengers. 

– 

With this thought in mind, I grip the handrail with one hand while my other hand reaches into the front compartment of my schoolbag to retrieve the vocabulary notebook. With my fingertips, I flip through the pages one by one. 

A few points I lost this time were in vocabulary and grammar. It looks like I need to consolidate my understanding of these error-prone areas much more. 

I concentrate on each letter in the notebook, quietly repeating every word three times in my mind before turning to the next page. 

For a moment, the clamors surrounding me seem to grow muffled. I feel as if I’m isolated in a space of my own, able to hear only the voice of my mind crystal clear. 

Even the passage of time seems to slow down. 

The window’s shadow on the edge of my vision is rendered a hazy tint, slowly receding, but it also sharpens the clarity of the words in front of me. 

Although these words aren’t my first language, as long as I grasp the arteries and veins that connect the word roots and affixes, the rest is simply a process of putting them together and restructuring them. 

The patterns that dictate how the world operates also follow this principle. 

Firstly, one needs to understand the distinct characteristics of different things, then find their respective gaps–– and finally connect them, akin to joining mortise and tenon. 

This way, the correct answer is plainly evident. 

The sky outside the window has gradually begun to darken. I weave through the crowd to the back of the vehicle and take a quick look at my wristwatch. 

The hour hand ticks down one notch, and the time is about the same as what I had in mind. I should still be able to make it to Dawn Market before it closes for the day even if I hit traffic. 

Auntie Zhang usually doesn’t close her stall this early. I’m just not sure if I’ll be able to get any of the fruits Dad loves. 

I subconsciously look at the condition of the road ahead, feeling a slight hint of impatience creeping in. 

Victor: Yes, I can still make it in time. 

– 

By the time I arrive home, it’s slightly past 7 o’clock. 

Swiftly, I put down my schoolbag and change my clothes. I then step into the kitchen, don an apron, put the clams in a bowl to let them soak, and simultaneously begin cleaning the scallops. 

Just as I’m serving the garlic-steamed scallops on the table, I hear the door lock turning in the porch. 

Victor: Dad, you’re back. 

Papa Li: The flight got delayed, so it took longer than expected. Ah, you must be starving, aren’t you? 

Victor: I’m fine. You go and take a rest for a while. I’ll call you when the meal is ready. 

After saying this, I wipe my hands dry and pick up his suitcase propped against the doorway, placing it in the study. When I return to the living room, my father has already rolled up his sleeves and is standing by the dining table. 

Papa Li: I was wondering why the entire house was filled with the aroma of food as soon as I walked in the door. It turns out that our master chef has once again prepared a grand feast. 

Victor: It’s not that over-the-top, just regular home-cooked dishes, that’s all.  Victor: But I do have the clam stew and garlic butter scallops that you love. 

Papa Li: Well, it sounds like I must be in for a treat. 

Papa Li: What are you still stir-frying in your pan? Here, let Dad exhibit some tricks for you. 

My father seems to be in a good mood. It’s probably because the work on his business trip has been exceptionally successful. Although doing things myself would be more efficient, I naturally can’t dampen his spirits. 

I smile and lend him a hand. 

Papa Li: How’s school been going recently? Are you settling into your new class well? 

Victor: It’s going pretty well. We got our mock exam scores and class rankings today, and overall, they’re within the range I expected, except for some mistakes I made in English. 

Victor: I’ll show you my report card after we’re done with dinner. 

Papa Li: I’ve always been confident in your academic performance. What about things outside your studies? Have you been busy with student council duties recently? 

Victor: Hm, we are gearing up to organize the Autumn Sports Festival soon, and lately, I’ve been exploring potential sponsors among educational organizations and bookstores that have shown interest. 

Seeing that he hasn’t shifted his gaze, I contemplate for a moment and add. 

Victor: In my free time, I’ll be playing soccer with the others. I’ve signed up for the soccer tournament in the sports festival. 

Sure enough, my father appears visibly happier upon hearing this and even teases me a little. 

Papa Li: Such opportunities don’t come by often, so you’ve to make sure to give it your best! But son, you haven’t played as much soccer as you used to since you’ve grown up. Are you sure your skills are still sharp? 

Victor: How about personally inspecting my skills tomorrow morning? 

Papa Li: Hahaha, are you “throwing down the gauntlet” to me? Alright, alright, no problem, let’s have a friendly showdown. 

Before we know it, the family dinner wraps up amidst an atmosphere steeped in laughter, something we haven’t done in a long time. 

It’s almost ten o’clock by the time I finish my homework, and I notice that the light in my father’s study is still on. After hesitating for a moment, I go back to my room, pick up the notebook from my desk, and knock on the door of his study. 

– 

Papa Li: Vic? Why are you still up? 

Victor: I’ve got a few questions that I’m having a bit of trouble understanding. 

I flip my notebook to the most recent page and place it in front of my father, briefly giving him a summary of the few stocks that I’ve been researching these days. 

My father comprehends the situation and begins circling things in the notebook, gradually clarifying the puzzles that have been plaguing my mind. 

Seeing that I haven’t said anything in a while, my father gently taps on the table with his pen. 

Papa Li: Is there a part you didn’t understand? 

Victor: No, it’s not that. I’m just glad that I’m in a simulated investment scenario where there’s room for trial and error. 

Papa Li: Real business transactions can also withstand trial and error. Son, there’s no one or no circumstance that can bring overnight success. 

I understand what my father is saying, but it’s precisely because I understand these principles that my resolve to achieve my goals becomes even more steadfast. 

It’s also because I have experienced that feeling of powerlessness, where I was helpless to find a way out, that my conviction has been more solidified— I must advance at a faster pace. 

Victor: I’ve got it. Thanks, Dad. You should get an early night. 

Papa Li: But judging by your achievements of the past few years… 

As if he has suddenly remembered something, my father takes out a somewhat aged notebook from a drawer. 

Inside the notebook, there are meticulous records of the maintenance cost I’ve earned every year for Vic Vic through simulated investments, starting from my junior high school days. 

Papa Li: It looks like you’ll get there earlier than you had planned. 

Victor: My goal is to round off the remaining amount in the next three years. 

Victor: I was quite conservative in my calculations back then, but now I’m confident. 

– 

In the blink of an eye, the preparation phase for the Autumn Sports Festival is in full swing. Adhering to the “first-come, first-served” principle, there’s a constant rush of people in the venues and equipment storage areas. 

It appears that this enthusiasm has got the entire school’s faculty and students immersed, as evident in the ongoing internal meeting of the student council. 

I close the proposal document in front of me and turn my gaze to the head of the sports department who has been talking confidently since the beginning of the meeting, putting forth all kinds of budget-busting ideas. 

If memory serves, he only joined the student council this year. While it’s understandable to have such drive when taking on a major responsibility as this for the first time, it’s not surprising that his ideas are so impractical. 

Victor: We are organizing a sports event for the school, not the Loveland City Youth Sports Meet. 

Victor: Before asking me if I can secure such a large budget, shouldn’t we first consider the already existing conditions? 

Victor: Even if we manage to lock in sponsorships smoothly, I’m afraid we don’t have sufficient space and workforce to sustain it. 

Head of Sports Department: But I’ve discussed this issue with Xiao Sun from your External Affairs Department beforehand, and the proposal he’s handed in today is actually twice as substantial as what he initially suggested. 

Victor: That’s the very reason why having this meeting today was essential, isn’t it? 

Victor: To prevent the possibility of others misinterpreting due to the spread of incomplete information inappropriately. 

The other party doesn’t seem to have anticipated that I would respond this way, rendering him silent for a moment before he speaks again. 

Head of Sports Department: Doesn’t the External Affairs Department need to hold another meeting to discuss this? Or is Student Council President Victor implying that we don’t have any room for further discussion? 

Victor: First and foremost, whether the External Affairs Department needs to deliberate on the conclusions drawn from today’s general meeting, I will make that assessment. 

Victor: Secondly, “we” are not the ones who get to negotiate this. Because this matter has never been about any of us individually, from the outset to the conclusion. 

Head of Sports Department: [sarcastic laugh]  Heh, I’ve heard rumors that the External Affairs Department is managed by an autocratic approach, and today I finally got the chance to witness it first-hand. 

…I can hardly believe someone would make such an elementary-school-student-style remark in this situation. 

Victor: If labeling me with a derogatory term as “autocratic” can make things seem more reasonable, then I don’t find any objection to your remark. 

Head of Sports Department: … 

Victor: I apologize for taking up everyone’s time. The Executive Committee and the Secretariat, please inform me as soon as you have made your decisions, and I will make further improvements to the proposal. 

After finishing my words, I pick up the folder and turn around to exit the conference room. 

— 

[Tidbits]: 

✦ regarding the “arteries and veins” (脉络) and “mortise and tenon” (榫卯) parts— I decided to do their literal translations despite initially going for metaphorical terms, to show you guys the way Li Zeyan writers think + how they wanted you to grasp just how immersed he was and how passionate he is in general about learning that he is subconsciously relating things like this. 

✦ Dawn Market and Auntie Zhang are references to his S2 Company Project, where we met this old lady and learned the precious story of how Victor would visit the market with his dad when he was a kid. I don’t remember her name on the EN server LOL, so used the original one as it was. 

✦ The stock research, simulated investment, and paying for Vic Vic’s (the panda Yan Yan) upkeep fees – these are all references to Victor’s 4th birthday story, where after learning that the panda’s adoption fee had to be paid on yearly installments, 15-year-old Victor decided to put his knowledge about simulated investment to action and use the profits from investments to pay the panda’s upkeep fees. And sure enough, his investments were successful, and at the time he had told his dad that he’d be able to pay his dad all the adoption fees back over the years by the time he was 25. But as we saw in this story, in 2nd year of his senior high school, he had cut that time down to only 3 years, and he did not need those years in full either~ :’) 

✦ And as for using the “Papa Li” term of address instead of “Victor’s Dad”–– it was a force of habit LOL + I wanted to retain the personalized feelings here haha (,,>ࡇ<,,)

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

As the other person reiterates his “refusal” attitude once again, I take a deep breath and reach out to loosen my tie. 

The sunlight at high noon is somewhat glaring. After stuffing the proposal into my backpack, I walk mechanically towards the subway station. 

I still have more than enough time before the cram classes, and this morning has gone well as I successfully negotiated for most of the sponsorship according to the plan. 

Apart from… 

I can’t help but sigh, kneading my throbbing forehead. 

Perhaps because it’s the weekend, as I pass by the park, I hear the animated sounds of laughter and cheerful voices. 

It’s as if I’ve caught the contagious effect of that simple joy, I subconsciously change my path and sit down on a bench nearby. 

All of a sudden, I loosen up a tad and my mind involuntarily begins thinking back to the wall I’ve hit just earlier. 

— 

───── [FLASHBACK BEGINS] ─────

Victor: Mr. Yu, the significance school sports day holds in high school activities is quite evident, whether in terms of its overall scale or the level of importance placed on it by both teachers and students. 

Victor: And with the level of publicity in an event such as this, it’s without a doubt that it can boost your campus market share, while simultaneously deepening the profile of your company. 

Victor: In my opinion, this collaborative effort is one that demands minimal investment but yields rapid returns. 

Victor: Please take a look at our proposal, and if you have any questions, we can discuss them right away. 

The man in the impeccably dressed suit and shoes in front of me remains completely silent, waiting patiently until I finish speaking. Then he sits up straight on the couch, courteously accepts the folder from me, and places it directly onto the table. 

Mr. Yu: Your arguments are very sound, but there’s no need for us to invest in the school. 

Victor: Do you have any concerns, or are there any aspects of the proposal that you currently find unsatisfactory? 

Mr. Yu: Hahaha, Victor, you seem to have missed the point of what I meant. 

Mr. Yu: As a matter of fact, your proposal is already very well-rounded. To be honest with you, among all the proposals I always receive, many from adults don’t even measure up to yours. 

Mr. Yu: But you must know that what you’re confronting are people, not only proposals. 

Mr. Yu: There’s nothing wrong with being considerate of all aspects, but people are incoercible, let alone businessmen who always prioritize their interests above all else. 

───── [FLASHBACK ENDS] ─────

— 

Suddenly, something lightly bumps against my feet, snapping me back to reality. 

It’s a soccer ball. 

??: Sorry—— 

An unfamiliar voice sounds not far away, and upon lifting my head, I see a group of young boys waving at me, dripping with sweat. I knowingly rise to my feet and lift my leg to kick the ball back to them. 

The ball is passed with perfect accuracy to the feet of a young boy not too far away. 

??: Thanks, buddy! 

Sunlight filters down the gaps between the branches and leaves. I incline my head to gaze at the dappled light spots it creates. 

On this day, I’ve come to understand that many things don’t yield results based on the perfection achieved by one individual; there are numerous external factors at play. 

And that, one should always be prepared and have a well-rounded plan in place for everything. 

– 

The highly anticipated Autumn Sports Festival has lifted its curtains on a bright and beautiful morning. 

With the piercing sound of the whistle, the friendly soccer match is down to its final five minutes. 

Under the scorching sun, the grass field sizzles beneath our feet, and the striking 0:1 on the scoreboard has got everyone in the Section 1 team with their hearts hanging in midair. 

However, as if the situation is not already bad enough, more troubles keep coming one after another. Not only are we behind in the score, but our goalkeeper has also been red-carded and sent off the field due to a mistake while charging out. 

My gaze shifts from the glaring red card to the referee’s finger–– pointing at the 12-yard mark. 

??: You’ve got to be kidding me! A penalty kick at this moment–– they’re giving us the full “red-card” combo! This is ridiculous! Can’t we protest this? 

??: Come on, move along. The match is over. 

??: It’s really a pity for the Section 1 team. The two teams were neck and neck for so long, and I thought a miracle might really happen. 

??: You’re overthinking it. It’s already a miracle that they managed to persist until now. Among those students of Section 9, six of them are sports prodigies, you know. 

The ceaseless buzz of murmurs and discussions lingers around me from all directions. Fine beads of sweat cling to my neck in disarray, and I wipe them away in irritation, my toes finding themselves stomping on the ground several times. 

The current situation is indeed far from optimistic. 

If we bring in a forward as a substitute for the goalkeeper, the odds of winning the game will be completely against us. 

Given that nothing can be done about the 10 vs. 11 situation we’re already in, what can we possibly do to level the score? 

My brain spins at a lightning pace, and suddenly, a somewhat bold idea springs to mind. 

With almost not the slightest hesitation, I raise my hand to draw the referee’s attention, requesting a substitution. 

Xiao Luo: ...but you hardly ever took on the role of a goalkeeper in the practice matches we had before, and now to substitute as... 

Victor: The key is not just to defend the goalpost. 

I interrupt the sports committee representative and earnestly shift my gaze to the coach and the team members on the field. 

Victor: Being a midfielder, if I take on the role of the goalkeeper, to some extent, it will create a similar sense of skepticism in the opposing team. 

Victor: Now, at this point in the game, it essentially boils down to a competition of stamina. 

While speaking, I turn my gaze to the substitutes who are about to replace the wingers on both sides. 

Substitute teammate: But doesn’t that mean we’re giving up control of the midfield by doing this? 

Victor: You’re right. But without taking risks, there will be no reward. 

Victor: My strategy is not something I can accomplish relying on my abilities alone. I need the trust and cooperation of every single one of you. 

Victor: I will surely block the penalty kick. 

After putting on the protective gloves, I clap my palms together vigorously twice, and in my peripheral vision, I can see the penalty taker also walking to the designated spot. 

Drawing a deep breath, I walk to the side of the goalpost, slightly arch my body, and then fix my gaze straight ahead. Inadvertently, I raise my hand and gesture towards the completely unguarded opposite side. 

For a moment, it feels as if all the eyes in the entire arena have turned towards me, causing me to fall into a trance and giving me the sensation as though I can hear the sound of time ticking away. 

Another whistle blows. 

The opponent clearly hesitates for a moment, as if trying to decipher whether my action is intended as a provocation, or it has some other meaning. 

But all of that is unimportant at this moment. 

He had already lost right at the second he hesitated and did not take a decisive shot. 

And that second was all I needed. 

── 

Xiao Luo: Victor! You’re really something! I can’t believe that pulling off such an unconventional strategy secured us a narrow victory! 

Victor: It was merely a draw, nothing more. 

Teammate: Well, that still counts as a victory in our book! Let’s go to Lao Beimen’s street stall; I’m treating everyone to soda, ice-cream, and grilled sausages! Victor, you coming with us? 

Victor: Sure, let’s go. 

Xiao Luo and Teammates: YES! 

Watching my fellow teammates, who have shared the sweat and toil, beam with expressions of elation as if they have scored a goal, I find myself smiling along with them. 

The afternoon heat is yet to subside, and pedestrians are seeking shelter beneath the shade of the trees as they move forward. Only we continue to walk under the sunlight, chatting and laughing among ourselves as we walk down the footbridge. 

The lady working at the newspaper stand places the newly arrived comics in a prominent spot, then sits down in the shaded area, fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan; 

The bright and youthful college students walk hand in hand, their phone charms clinking together, producing a crisp sound; 

Clad in their uniform, the junior high schoolers sport headphones as they wait for the bus to arrive. Who knows what they’re listening to, whether it’s some English listening exercise or popular music; 

The fine beads of sweat glisten with a radiant glow between the young boy’s hairline, while his red sportswear is eye-catching and vibrant, epitomizing the most splendid appearance one can have at his age.

I tighten the cords of my drawstring bag a little and skillfully keep the ball bouncing on my toes, maneuvering around a few bicycles on the lane without any people, and then use a bit of force to toss the ball in the air. 

The attempt to catch the ball with my knee isn’t executed perfectly, and the ball slightly slips out of control. 

I jog a couple of steps to catch up, throw the ball again, and catch it once more— and like this, I indulge in this self-amusing routine tirelessly. 

A light sheen of sweat lightly dampens the ends of my hair. I fling my head back a little and quicken my stride, allowing the gentle breeze to whisk away the residual heat. 

Even though it’s merely a school-level sports event, triumph always feels great, especially when your own efforts are so clearly visible. 

There are still two more intersections to go before we reach Lao Beimen’s stall. As I watch the several spiritedly hopping figures ahead of me, I decide to bring my own little celebration to an end. 

After all, this was merely a school-level soccer match; I couldn’t let satisfaction be so readily apparent on my face. 

The soccer ball bounces and produces a firm sound, while the fluttering clothes closely trails its trajectory. 

It’s only the sunshine that knows the young boy has been unknowingly sporting a smile at the corners of his lips, unmistakably revealing a look of satisfaction. 

────── ••• ─────

💘 【Calls】: Here!

───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

【Anika’s Ramblings】

—

[arianatwycross]

The Process of Wanting

Chapter 3: @jilymicro-oops prompt: enthralled

“Just keep her laughing. When a woman laughs, her eyes are closed more. She won’t notice how ugly you are.”  James narrows his eyes at Sirius, "How does that help me with texting her back?" “But James isn’t ugly?” Pete tacked on distractedly, too busy figuring out how to connect the PlayStation to their new TV. 

Continue reading or read on A03

“Oh Pete, you are my bestest friend.” James coo's, ruffling his hair. 

“I don’t understand you, straight people,” Sirius mutters, rolling his eyes. But seeing how tired his best friend looks, James ignores him and focuses on the text message he's attempting to compose.

Lily Evans had texted him. 

Yes, that’s right, the girl of his dreams (seriously, it’s all his brain could conjure up every night), had texted him first…out of the blue. 

He had already asked his most sane friend (Remus) if he was seeing things but alas, Lily had texted him and it read like she was asking him to hang out with her…alone. 

He frowned. He was so sure she was dating the bloke he had seen her snog at the party the other week. Because of it, he had spent eleven days with a dull, confusing ache in his chest. Remus concluded he was jealous, but James didn’t understand how someone could be jealous of someone he had never had in the first place. It wasn’t like he was pursuing her before that either. He was enjoying the party one minute and the next minute, he felt like his heart was flipped upside down and shoved back into his chest. 

“Why would she text me? Who gave her my number?” James ponders out loud…once again. 

Before Sirius can audibly complain, Remus walks into the room. Every Tuesday night, the group of them mingle in James and Sirius’s two-bedroom flat and order takeaway. This week, it was Remus’ turn to pick up their dinner, thus it was Remus’ choice. Chinese. 

“You gave her your number, you nutter,” Remus responds, perching the white plastic bag amongst their awaiting plates on the coffee table. 

“When?” James questions, as he watches Remus unload the steaming Styrofoam containers. 

“At the party.”

James suddenly too stunned to receive the offered fried rice, blinks at Remus’ outreached hands. Remus sighing, shoves the rice into Pete’s hands instead and settles on his bum to explain. 

“You were six drinks to the wind, dancing to Abba, when Lily started singing along with you. I couldn’t hear what you two were whispering into each other’s ears, but I do remember seeing you take her phone and put your number in it.”

“Why do I not remember this?” Sirius pipes in, spooning his lemon chicken onto his plate. 

“You were already passed out in my bed, love,” Remus replies fondly. 

Sirius frowns, “Why weren’t you there then?” 

Enthralled, James grins down at the text he had received from Lily just 15 minutes ago. 

Lily:  Hey Dancing Queen. Fancy joining me for a cuppa before class tomorrow morning?

[thesunshinebunny]

Hii

I would like to leave a request, if it's not to your liking kindly ignore.

Could you please write a short story or headcannon about like um so it is vil and readers anniversary and the reader decides to write a song and present it to him on the anniversary.( you set my world on fire by loving calliber ,this song is just so sweet, pls (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و ) I feel all mushy listening to this song.I am not sure what category to put it in whether it's headcannon or story I leave it up to you.

Thanks in advance, have a good day. ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You looked at the number on your cell phone calendar, which marked the coming of that long-awaited day, a day that filled not only you, but also your recent partner with joy and love…

And that same day it was generating horrible anxiety in you just a week before arriving. Your anniversary with Vil.

It's not that there was anything wrong with your relationship, quite the opposite. Things couldn't go better, you even had your doubts about the reaction of his fans… yes, there were ups and downs this year, but nothing could corrupt this beautiful union that you had with your Queen.

What generated so much anguish…was what to give him. Obviously, material goods aren't everything in life, but we are talking about Vil Schoenheit, one of the most coveted models in this world.

What can you give to a person who can practically have everything with the snap of their fingers?

“A tiara?” No “A new makeup set?” No “A Chinese robe made from the finest silkworms”…too expensive for your pocket. Nothing that came to mind from the ADeuce duo was helpful or completely convincing.

The sun was setting 3 days before the long-awaited day and your anxiety only increased. You already considered it lost, you weren't going to be able to finish anything that you could do manually with the amount of homework that the teachers left; Anything you bought online wasn't going to arrive on time unless you sold a kidney; and the type of gift they sold at school…

They couldn't even put together the name of Vil. No offense Sam

Early Thursday morning, two days before the anniversary, spending time in Magicam, with dark circles that reached the ground, you came across a video of a couple singing a duet to a beautiful and melodious song.

Ding

You got out of bed at full speed, searching the entire bedroom up and down for a guitar, or something that looked like it. Not finding it, you decided to go to the music club first thing in the morning to borrow one.

And that's how those two days went, practicing in your free time, without any sleep schedule, in order to learn and vocalize a song that came from your soul, reflecting your love for the tall blonde.

When the expected day arrived, you sent a message to Vil. “Wait for me in the Pomefiore gardens after class, in our special place.”

The same place where Vil had asked you to start dating, the same place where he asked you to be his partner, now where you would spend your first anniversary.

Nerves of steel.

When Vil arrived at this romantic spot, carrying a small, elegantly decorated box, he found a scene straight out of a love movie… and with an angelic melody.

I lose my breath whenever I see you

In front of him, a path of petals of different flowers: white peonies, forget-me-nots, violet tulips and red roses; a potpourri that ended in the shape of a heart

You stole my heart, what is it that you do?

A Spanish guitar ringing in the air, as well as a soft violin in the background.

Just wanna be with you 'til we grow old

Your figure in the middle of the heart, holding said guitar, with a speaker from which the wind instrument came out, dressed in an elegant navy blue suit, with floral details embroidered in gold on the hem and violet stones adorning the sleeves.

My life was gray 'til you added colors

His violet eyes never left yours, hypnotized, glassy, threatening to shed the occasional tear.

Like the moon needs the sun, we don't care 'bout the others

Vil sat on the small mattress of flowers that you left for him in front of you, still holding the small box, eagerly waiting to give it to you.

I want you for myself every single day

As a cliché, you knelt at his height, both of you facing each other, without stopping singing at any time, although noticeably running out of breath when you reached the end of the song.

You set my world on fire

With the song coming to an end, both of you facing each other, just one centimeter away from kissing, your lips curved into a big nervous smile, waiting for the response from the person you admired so much.

There was no need to search for words, a sweet and tender kiss from Vil was more than enough for you to know that the song was much more than to his liking.

He'd loved it; one of the best gifts he had, which was nothing material, but came from the heart and soul.

And speaking of gifts, yours was still waiting to be opened. With your hands a little trembling from the nervousness of singing in a pseudo-public space, with the love of your life, you opened the small heart, finding a little tiara, matching Vil's along with his uniform.

Now you could demonstrate your relationship to the public eye.

[eutaemonia]

𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭

➫ taehyung x reader

ah the cliche miscommunication trope. taehyung is a famous painter and is usually followed by his manager who is at his beck and call.

⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆⋆

Hatred is a strong feeling that plagues humans and motivates them to act out. Hatred is usually too strong of a word or at least it is according to my father. I often opted for strongly dislike instead. Hatred can only be used for the person in my life, my neighbor. To be fair, who plays classical music at 3 o’clock in the morning? Who plays the saxophone on their balcony? Who makes our entire apartment floor reek of acrylic paint? Only my neighbor, it seems like I am the only one who holds this type of ill feeling as I hear the older ladies from a different floor gossiping about the casanova upstairs. 

“I heard that he’s moved here from abroad and is studying American life for a new art piece” One says smugly.“I heard he’s being commissioned by many museums!” “I hear- ” Their voices fade as the elevator doors close and I roll my eyes. After what feels like eternity from a long day I enter the apartment as the stench of paint invades my senses. “Taehyung, mind telling me why the old ladies from downstairs are gossiping about you?” I chastise as I set down the Chinese takeout box on the table.

“Not my fault that I’m irresistible” he says with a wink as he comes from around the large canvas. “Oh you brought food too! Ugh you know I often think to myself, ‘What would I do without you?’ then I realize you’re stuck with me and those thoughts are useless” he sarcastically remarks with a smug grin. 

As I resist the urge to scream I repeat the calming exercises my therapist taught me, in your nose out your mouth aaaand repeat. With a weak smile I nod and begin setting up the food.

“You know you should be a lot nicer because I’m your manager! I don’t voluntarily babysit you, buy you food, buy your groceries or even walk your dog…” I say as my head points to the fluffy pomeranian sleeping in the grandiose dog bed next to the couch. 

“Yes but isn’t that what they call perks! You’re like a built-in best friend from the company, I mean imagine how lonely I’d be if I didn’t have you!” he says with a pout as he faces me. His long black wavy hair swept across his forehead with various colors of acrylic paint decorating his shirt with a dash of sky blue on his cheek as his eyes crinkle as laughter erupts from his boxy smile. 

“I could always ask Ivy to switch me out you know, she adores me” I threaten as his eyes focus back on the canvas and not on my burning cheeks.

The first time I met Taehyung was five years ago in college. We had an art class together and he was the student who was gifted and excelled without trying. I on the other hand did not and opted for appreciating the art. He eventually got accepted into the same company I was managing at and I became his manager. He has a tall build and very wide shoulders, his tan skin contrasts perfectly with his dark raven hair that is hardly ever styled and always overgrown. He claims it’s a part of his trademark. His light brown eyes are framed by unfairly long eyelashes. It wasn’t necessarily Taehyung’s appearance that intrigued me, it was his artwork. His mother died at a young age and his father was an alcoholic after her death that led him to spend most of his time with his grandmother. She taught him many art techniques from all the places she’s traveled. He incorporates feelings and places into one. His debut art piece was a painting of the Leaning Tower of Pisa but it was held up by a small boy, it represented how he felt the whole world’s responsibility was put on him after his mother’s death. It was instantly a hit and has now earned him the title of one of the best artists and the company decided to splurge on everything for the artist that made them known. It’s not that I hate him per say I think it’s the implications of him and how he doesn’t listen and makes my life a hundred times more stressful. He was right when he said I was his only friend and only a slight pang of pity comes from that because I know it’s true. He has difficulty making friends albeit his very sociable and charismatic personality. 

As I enter Taehyung’s apartment excitement courses through my veins, I go straight to him and announce the great news Ivy told me over the phone minutes prior.

“You’re opening a new exhibition in Osaka, Japan!” I announce happily as I watch his face drain of color and the paintbrush fall to the floor. 

“Taehyung,” I murmur “W-what’s wrong? I thought you wanted a new exhibition, you have so many works ready fo-”

“I’m not doing it” he says curtly and standing up. “B-but-”

“NO you’re not hearing me Yn, I am not doing this” he says vehemently storming out of the room. I stand alone in the studio feeling tears threatening to spill as I gaze up at the ceiling. 

Taehyung sits in his room staring at the picture of his grandmother and his younger self in France. He smiles sadly at the picture, a pang of regret bubbles within his chest as he remembers lashing out on Yn. Her face crumpled in pain and confusion clouds his thoughts and he feels bad. He didn’t know how to communicate the fact he hasn’t been to Japan since his grandmother died, he swore he would never go back which is why he’s traveled the world trying to forget about his past. After his mother died his father turned into an alcoholic trying to drown the memories of her, which included Taehyung. He often wandered by himself around the neighborhood until he came to his grandmother’s house. His grandmother traveled the world due to her love for the arts and taught him the many art techniques she had learned. His grandmother was the pillar in his roughly unstable life, although she wasn’t his real grandmother he considered her as his real grandmother. She was just a friendly grandmother that looked after all the children in the small neighborhood where he grew up in Japan. She was an old single woman who said she was too busy living her life to get married and settle down. Her name was Hiromi and she treasured Taehyung because he reminded her so much of herself. He was just thankful someone was there to look after him at such a young age and he owes a lot of it to Hiromi. She made his dark childhood happy and inspired him to continue doing what he loved. At age 19 Hiromi died leaving Taehyung without a reason to stay in Japan. The day after her funeral he went to travel to all the places she told him about.

I knew seeing Taehyung after the incident would be awkward but not this awkward. As Ivy nudges my shoulder in efforts to help me stay awake during the company meeting I can’t help but let my gaze wander to Taehyung who seems to have a very easy time paying attention. The CEO continues to gloat about the company’s newest accomplishments and welcoming yet another promising artist. Applaud ensues as an attractive young man stands before everyone and introduces himself. The new artist’s name is Ryu and he mainly works with clay molding as he showcases his work. Mr. Lin, our CEO, slaps the artist on the back obviously very proud of the new addition.

“And now the one who will be overseeing your work will be none other than Ivy and if you have any questions your manager is Yn.” Mr. Lin says proudly and dismisses the meeting. As soon as Mr.Lin dismisses the meeting, I run to Ryu.

“Well well well mind telling me why you’re here!” I exclaim as he brings me into a hug.

“You know I needed a new company after helping out at the restaurant and I remember you saying you’d help me out” he says cheekily with a blinding smile as I nod understandingly.

Ryu was my childhood best friend and cousin. Our family is very close because they operate a restaurant together that serves the best fried chicken. I remember growing up within the four walls of that restaurant and pulling pranks on our parents. Ryu is set a bit higher than me with sleek, slicked back hair. He always dresses up and believes he’s the most charming person in the building. Yet with his arrogant personality he’s always been there for me and has someone inherited the artful skill that somehow skipped me.

“Why the long face Taehyung?” Ivy inquires with a quirk of her brow.

“Sigh I do not understand Mr. Lin at all, Yn can barely handle me so why add another artist?” He says with genuine confusion written across his features.

“Well for starters all the other managers are handling exhibitions, Yn also has other artists besides you, you know that… right? Plus Ryu and Yn already know each other so it’s easier for them to begin working right away. Although that’s not why you’re asking, you’re jealous!” She exclaims as she pokes his arm.

“Not jealous, I have no idea where that idea even came from. Absolutely ridiculous like honestly… But what do you mean “already know each other”?” He says in air quotes but as soon as Ivy opens her mouth to respond I approach them. Walking up with a beaming smile full of excitement and an equally excited Ryu that leaves a sour taste in Taehyung’s mouth. Dismissing Taehyung’s attitude Ryu introduces himself.

“Hello my name is Ryu, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” he introduces politely with a blinding smile sweeping Ivy off of her feet.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll be here if you have any questions or concerns or anything” she smiles shyly as Taehyung rolls his eyes and I elbow him. 

“Please excuse us for a moment, Ryu I’ll meet you afterwards!” I say hurriedly pushing Taehyung in the tight hall. I glare at him expecting an answer for his odd behavior but instead I’m met with silence.

“What’s wrong now?” I ask exasperated, “Like I have no idea what you want from me honestly. You blew up on me but you’re mad? Plus you’re being mean and this isn't like you. So what’s up?”

“Look, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up on you or act like this it- it’s just” he murmurs with his head hung low. I duck my head to see his misty eyes and give him a hug to chase away the tears threatening to spill. “Hiromi’s death anniversary is tomorrow… and my mother’s birthday is next week” he says with a sniff as I feel my eyes well up.

“You dummy why didn’t you just tell me?” I murmur as I hug him tighter. “I know you haven’t been back to Japan since Hiromi’s death. Will you be okay for the exhibition? We don’t have to do it you know, I’m sure Ivy w-”

He cuts me off with a short press to my lips and his signature boxy smile with a blush atop his cheeks.

“I’ll be alright, I have you with me after all” he smiles at me. I faintly hear Ivy whooping from the conference room and I laugh.“Okay if you’re up for it” I say gazing up at him “I will always be with you.” “I hope so,” he says with a nod of his head, “By the way… who's that Ryu guy?” I shake my head laughing lightly as I walk away and he chases after me asking.

[happilydistinguishedbanana]

Fallen Pt. 1: Questions

Authors note: Ahhh I’m so excited for this!! This is a alternate reality where the reader wakes up in the Star Wars universe!! I have been wanting to do this for a while, but I have not been the first. I would like to credit Eagleness and Talita01 on AO3 for the idea. If there is anyone else who has done the same, please let me know! This is also pre-Echo era, but he will appear later. Also please let me know if I should choose just a single batcher for the reader to be with or all of them!

Warnings: Blood, vomiting

Summary: One day I’m watching my favorite show in my college dorm room. The next morning I wake up in a hospital with no idea how I got there and two Jedi who are just as confused as myself.

Word count: 2458

Relationship: Undecided Batcher(s) x Female Reader

Part 2

As much as I loved bar hopping with my friends and drinking until I can’t tell the difference between left and right, I hate waking up the next morning with a hangover and a 2,000 word essay due for my college midterm.

“Come on, Sweetie.” My friend Corey moaned, her arm grasping my own with a vice like grip. “Just a few drinks and then we’ll take you home.”

I rolled my eyes. The last time they promised that, I got home after 4:00 am and missed two of my morning classes. Although it didn’t make much of a difference then, I couldn’t afford it this time. “No, I’m not going.”

“What a buzzkill.” One of Corey’s friends whispered to her obnoxious boyfriend. I never liked her and her long nails and her fried hair that she straightened far too often. Her voice sounded like metal scratching on metal and I had no idea how she managed to become friends with someone as nice as Corey. But maybe Corey was the desperate one.

“I’m sorry Corey.” I whispered. “I can’t go tonight, I have stuff due tomorrow.”

She frowned, but dropped my arm and shuffled over to her other friends. She looked back and forth between me and my dorm room's door. “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, her fingers lightly gripping the doorknob. They trembled.

“Corey-”

“Let’s go.” Her friend whined, coddling up to her boyfriend as if she would die if she stood there any longer. I don’t think he minded though seeing as he groped her in the ass. “This new bar opened up, right by that good Chinese place. I’m staaarving.”

“Yeah, come on Corey.” The boyfriend jumped in. “We’re wasting time sitting around here.”

“Leave her, girl.” The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. Sometimes I wonder how Corey got dragged into being friends with people like that. They’re nothing special, and even she doesn’t seem to like them. Maybe I’m delusional.

“Alright.” Corey nodded, giving me one last look before opening the door and leaving with her lackluster friends. I couldn’t help but notice the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

I pulled out my phone quickly to send her a text, but my battery was dead. Stumbling through my dorm, I frantically searched for a charger. Under the bed, in the dresser, on my nightstand, even inside the mini fridge, but it was like it vanished.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I ran my hands through my hair. If I couldn’t find my cord, I wouldn’t be able to text Corey, and if her friends are as bad as they seem, they might leave her to find a way back to the dorms. What if she needed a ride? What if something happens? What if she just needs a friend to talk to?

I tapped my foot nervously before deciding that slumping down in my bed and pulling out my computer would be my best course of action. Maybe finishing my essay would distract me enough.

I scroll through what I had written, rereading paragraph after paragraph only to find that everything was finished and edited. All I would need to do was print the damn thing and submit it tomorrow morning. I could have gone out with Corey after all.

But it was too late to do anything about it now. My hands moved to open a new tab and click onto the familiar bookmark that I kept close to my heart. The website started up and I eagerly opened my favorite pastime of my college years. The Bad Batch.

I had watched the infamous Star Wars saga when I was young, usually with a bowl of popcorn and my favorite drink to go with. My father watched the first ever movie when he was just a child in 1977 and after he had kids of his own, he wanted them to experience the same joy he had felt. It stuck with me and I continued to watch any show related to it since.

But the Bad Batch was something I had gotten into a little later than everyone else. Both seasons were released when I started watching it and after several long months, today was the day I was going to finish it. It would have been exciting if I didn’t already know what happened. Spoilers still reached my ears no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

“Plan 99.” Tech said through the screen, my own lips quoting every word. I watched him fall to his death and despite knowing he was going to die, I still felt sad. But I did not cry, I hardly ever cried when I was sad and this certainly was not an exception. And maybe a part of that was influenced because Tech’s death just didn’t feel solid. It felt fake. It didn’t feel as real as when Echo “died” or when Gregor “died.” Something was missing from the equation.

My eyes started to droop by the time I finished the final episode. I checked the clock to see it was past 12:00. Corey wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be at this time. I tried to stay up to wait for her, to make sure she came back all in one piece. But the draw of sleep was just too hard to resist. I fell into a fitful rest.

***************

I did not share a room with anyone, so when I drifted awake, I laid rigidly when I heard several voices just outside the door. Several male voices though they sounded strangely familiar.

When I opened my eyes, I became even more confused. This was not my room. Bright lights were shining on me as if I was some test subject. There were medical monitors and white walls and the stale smell of medicine and disinfectant.

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

I sat up and took in my surroundings even more. I wore a medical gown, there were no handles on the doors, the male voices outside were still there, a… droid was sifting through a drawer on the opposite side of the room?

My breath caught in my throat. A part of me knew that I was not in any danger, but seeing a hunk of metal the size of a grown man, pulling out needles and bottles out of a drawer did nothing to calm my nerves. I certainly did not feel any better when he? It? Turned to me and started speaking in a language I did not know.

“Wait!” I jumped out of the cot when it tried to grab me by the arm. I stumbled back into some of the equipment, glass and metal and wires crashing into the floor with me. The droid skittered around still speaking gibberish as if it became flustered and confused.

I whipped my head around when the door slid open. I audibly gasped when none other than Mace Windu and Obi Wan Kenobi stepped through the door, their lightsabers in their hands like second nature, ready for use.

They were on alert until they saw me on the floor. They sheathed their sabers and gave each other a look I couldn’t read.

Windu went to calm down the droid while Obi Wan headed over to me. He was speaking to me, saying words I’m sure anyone else could understand. I stared at him blankly and suddenly he stopped, turned, said a few words to Windu, and then pulled me up by the shoulder and placed me back on the cot. He then ushered the droid out of the room leaving Windu and I alone.

I could feel pain in my shoulder, and I reached back with my hand to find out why. It came back bloody. I shivered before rushing over to the sink at the other end of the room and vomited. I felt a warm hand on my back and mumbled words which I knew were words or reassurance. But I still couldn’t understand anything.

Windu started to dress my wound, though it was done rather poorly. He said nothing more to me, and it gave me a moment to think.

I’ve seen stuff similar to this in movies and T.V shows.Young boys traveling to the past, superheroes ending up in alternate universes, people using telephone booths as a time machine, I’ve even had dreams about similar concepts. But this certainly didn’t feel like a dream. I never had a dream that felt so real, I never felt pain in a dream, never felt the coolness of air filtering in through a vent, never smelt the stale disinfectant smell of hospitals. Could this reality be real?

Windu finished right in time for Obi Wan to return, a datapad in hand. They both chatted to each other quietly, Obi Wan waving the device in the air. Windu nodded and then left the room.

I watched Obi Wan hesitantly. He was one of my favorite characters, but I don’t throw my trust around blindly. And knowing him, I’m sure he doesn’t trust me either.

He approached me and pushed the data pad close to my mouth. He pointed a finger at his lips, said a few words, and then pointed to the data pad. It picked up his words, printing them onto the screen and displaying them in a language that I had seen written on billboards in the show but never took the time to understand.

I opened my mouth to speak and said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to fucking pee.”

It took a moment for the scanner to pick up what I said, but eventually words started to form on the screen. Obi Wan turned it around, looked at it and then laughed. His eyes glittered while he tinkered with the device and then he spoke a few more words into it and handed it over to me.

How badly? It read.

I gave him a knowing look and he laughed again and gestured towards the door. I felt a bit vulnerable in just my gown, but I followed him anyway. We weren’t on Kamino, I knew that much. Maybe Coruscant? There weren't any windows in the medical facility I was put in. The walls were white and medical droids and other patients walked the hallways, but there wasn’t a clone in sight. It must be a local hospital.

Obi Wan was speaking to me as best as he could through the datapad. Simple questions like my name and age and how I ended up passed out in front of the Jedi Temple. That was something I could not answer. I kept quiet for the most part about where I was from or what I was doing before now. If it was true that I fell through into another universe, I don’t think it would be smart to tell a Jedi Master that.

The bathrooms are just up ahead. He said and I thanked him.

Eventually he took me outside the facility, and I got a view of what was the bustling city planet known as Coruscant. Speeders and ships flew through the air, hundreds of people and aliens alike walked the streets as if today was just any other day. For them it was a normal day. For me, it might have been my worst nightmare.

We walked to the Jedi Temple, the sheer size intimidating. I started to think that they might use some Jedi mind tricks on me, break down any sanity I had just to find the truth. And then another part of me thought that they had no idea and really I was just some random girl who showed up on their doorstep. But what worried me the most was if they thought I was some Separatist spy. Thinking that made me question which was worse. Psychological torture or physical torture.

But all of my worries vanished once we were inside. It was like everything suddenly got brighter, happier, and more peaceful. It was like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly I was calm. Jedis clad in long robes of brown and white and gray walked casually about, their footsteps eerily quiet. It smelt like honeysuckle and tea. Old. It smelt really old.

Kenobi spoke again. I glanced at the datapad in my hands. You’ve calmed. I nodded and he continued to talk. You weren’t before. I could sense your unease, but I could also sense that you are familiar with me and Master Windu. Isn’t that right?

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t wrong, I knew him a hell of a lot more than he might think. Windu more or less.

“Why are we here?” I asked as if I was clueless.

To talk. He said no more.

It was intimidating to be in front of some of the strongest Jedis in the Star Wars universe. They all eyed me like I was something to be feared, something to be watched and kept on a five foot long leash. And I felt vulnerable and scared, my shoulders still boring that sickly smelling hospital gown.

Each had their own datapad, all except for Master Yoda. They asked questions, simple at first, almost the same things Obi Wan had asked me earlier, and then they started asking me things that required more complicated answers. Sometimes I would only give half answers, sometimes I would give no answers at all. But I would not lie. It would be pointless if I did.

They came to a verdict at the end of it all. I would be assigned a clone force, I wasn’t told which, but I had my suspicions. I would be watched, listened to, examined and picked apart at.

“Honest, you have not.” Yoda told me. Those were the first words I heard in a language I actually knew. “Find out, we will.”

I was put in a nice room in the Jedi Temple, but it lacked the warmth of a well lived home. Everything was white, the sun shined in, bouncing off the walls and encompassing my room in this bright glow. I hated it. The bed was comfortable, but it didn’t compare to my room back at the college. There were nice clothes in the closet. I could tell they were put there just this day. It reminded me of what Senator Amidala was so often seen wearing in the show. I would hardly compare even if I dressed in the fine and flowy silks.

I’d fallen asleep feeling exhausted emotionally. But deep down, somewhere in that small part of me that was actually excited to be here, I wished that whoever I was put with, I hoped it was the rowdy bunch known as The Bad Batch.

[study-with-aura]

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Most of today has been nothing but storms. I was able to do my yoga outside because we have a covered space, but it wasn't the same as being able to do it in the sun. I also decided to get in a ballet class (Kathryn Morgan for today) so I'm not too out of practice before open classes start. Daily workouts, whether that be yoga or at the barre or cross-training are important at the level of ballet I'm going into (Advanced I).

After I did all of that, I was bored but didn't feel like reading yet. Julien wasn't doing anything either, so he asked if I wanted to game for a bit, and of course I said yes. We finished a zone together, so when we play again tonight, we'll be in a new zone!

If you are on break for the summer holidays, how are yours going thus far?

Tasks Completed:

History 9 - Reviewed first set of terminology flashcards

Theory - Reviewed cadences and voice leading

KA Geometry - Completed daily mastery challenge

KA Biology - Completed Unit 8: Lesson 3 (parts 1-3)

Duolingo - Studied for approximately 30 minutes (Spanish + French + Chinese)

Piano - Practiced for two hours in one hour split sessions

Reading - Read pages 131-163 of A Whisper in the Walls by Scott Reintgen

Chores - Put away dishes

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (Matthew 11)

Morning Yoga

Virtual advanced ballet class

3 hours gaming with Julien (not all at once)

Evening Stretch (will do tonight before bed)

Journal/Mindfulness

[midnightdevotion]

More than Him

Part 2 to more than this!!

Warnings: fluff and the reader is starting to notice feelings!! SLOW BURN

a/n: so sorry for the wait but my dumbass has like 7 fics going so it can get hard to juggle. LOVE YOU

You were never one to just sit down and be hurt, so you decided to do whatever it is you wanted. Anything you'd ever wanted to try, You were going to do it. No more fear or holding back.

That's how you found yourself on Monday night sitting outside of a pole dancing class. You'd been crying more than you'd like to admit, and it was a hard day at work with no distractions but you made it through and here you are getting ready to pole dance.

You felt a bit crazy, but in a way you wanted to do anything and everything that would change you as a person. Change you into a person he never would be able to touch.

It made you sick to your stomach to think about how you two had been intimate while he was just lying to you, using you. Shaking it off, you head inside the studio. It's smaller than you imagine, just one studio with 8 poles.

You take a pole in the back and start stretching, trying to focus on the instructor. The first hour flies by, and you actually have fun. Focused on learning how to do things on the pole. It pinches your skin and leaves your muscles shaking.

The second hour hits a bit harder though. This half is more about turning what you've learned into a dance. A sexy dance. Any other time you would be all for it, feeling sexy and learning the choreography but after being cut open and left feeling used and unsexy its more challenging than you thought.

You feel so unsexy, like an imposter in the middle of a pole class. Like you don't belong here and you feel like crying and screaming at the same time.

By the time the class lets out you are drained, physically and emotionally. Ready to just curl up in bed and try and forget everything.

You feel so angry and so fucking sad at the same time. It's not fair really, you tried to be a good partner and you know his lack of being a decent human isn't on you, but your pisses that the pain is. He gets to be a piece of shit and you have to feel the pain.

The whole drive home you are swirling in thoughts of sad hatred. Tears falling down your cheeks, disgusted that he got to hurt you like this. When you pull back into your drive way, you don't even notice Ice's car.

You make it inside to see Tom sitting on your couch, blankets and snacks all ready to go with your favorite Chinese food - cream cheese wantons included. You send him a pathetic smile as he gets off the couch. No words needed as he wraps his arms around you. Holding you firmly against his muscled chest.

___

Thats the general outline of how your entire week goes. You buy a new bed and bed set and tear down the old one to build the new one. Slamming your finger in part of the frame at one point and bleeding.

You burn everything he left at your place, and delete every photo you two had together. You feel slightly relieved. You didn't even realize how unhappy you were until you were out of it, and now yeah your dealing with the feelings of insecurity and being used and betrayed but you feel hopeful that things will be better without him.

By the time Friday rolls around you've done everything you could think of. Axe throwing, pole classes, calling a therapist, doing a campfire to burn his shit, erasing him from your life completely. it still stings, but it stings less and that fact has you gripping onto the future like no other.

So when Tom invites you to the beach Saturday you jump at the chance. You always love seeing Tom and you did not want to be at home all day on a Saturday. The way your overthinking mind would torture you if you didn't have anything to do, you would've agreed to do anything.

Hence why you are up at 8 am on a Saturday morning. Damn those Navy boys for waking up so god damn early. You deem the early morning worth it as soon as you see Tom on the beach. He grins at you when he sees you and you don't spare a second to think about why that makes your heart jump.

He's chosen a spot right by the water and the volley ball court, and you know Tom well enough to know that he intends to play today.

"You chose a fantastic day to join us little one, we are going up against our rivals, should be a good match" Slider grins down at you. You hadn't known that when you said yes but you grin figuring it'll be a good distraction anyways.

"You're gonna win for me right guys" Tom give you a smirk at that.

"darling I will always win for you"

You give them both a wish of good luck and maybe you rest a kiss on Toms cheek but what you really don't know what to do with is the pounding in your chest when he smiles at you. Or the way your mouth goes dry when he takes off his shirt to play.

You've always known Tom was good looking, I mean c'mon you have eyes. You'd even had a little crush on him for a while, but he never made an indication he was interested and you wanted him in your life so you'd decided to box him in as a friend. It seems now though the box might be breaking open. A little pissed off at that notion, because now is so not the fucking time to complicate things with tom.

You're broken out of your confused feelings when a woman with a little toddler sits down next to you.

"Hi I'm Carole and this is Bradley" the shy little boy gives a wave and you can't help but grin. Sending him a wave back you laugh when he ducks behind his mother. You introduce yourself to the short haired blonde and entering a friendly conversation.

"so which one of these guys is yours?" she asks and you find yourself stuttering and blushing.

"o-oh I'm not- we're not... I'm just friends with Tom- I mean Iceman" and you point out the blond diving for the volleyball. Carole just giggles at your response.

"well from the way he looks at you, you might want to reconsider that friendship. That one is my husband" You almost thank god that she changed topic at the last second, pointing out the mustached man on the other team.

"you guys make a very cute family" You grin at how Bradley is now playing with toy fighter planes.

"so will you and Tom" and any hope you had of her dropping the subject had flown out the window faster than their damn jets go.

"no no really we are just friends-"

"Oh so you're saying if that man stood before you and confessed to being totally irrevocably in love with you, you'd say no?"

"well I don't- I just got out of a relationship" the words came tumbling out of your mouth at a rate so fast it was obvious you wouldn't say no. That you were just trying to stop the picture of tom looking at you with love as he confessed his love for you.

You'd always been a day dreamer, but it only seems to bite you in the ass. The way your heart sped up when Carole said that, when she hinted that he looks at you in a way that friends don't. It all had you speechless and well Hopeful. The logic part of your brain says you need to stop, you've been single a week! You need to take time, according to every website you've clicked on it takes at least four months to move on from someone.

"Huh" was Carole's response

"what does that Huh mean?" you quirk a brow at her.

"I just didn't hear a no is all" you find your cheeks flushing at that. She's right, you didn't say no. You made an excuse because you've always been a timeline kind of person. You graduated college in 4 years, make extra payments on your home loan to pay it off in 20 years instead of 30. You want to date someone for at least 2 years before getting engaged, be engaged for 2 more years and then get married. You think back to all your goals and there is always a timeline, maybe you need to stop thinking about how much time there should be before something happens and just let things happen.

You glance up to see Ice's blue eyes staring right back at you, he mouths 'you ok' and you find yourself sending him a grin and a nod. You are okay, and it's really because of him. You still need time though, not because some website, but because you are still healing. Plus you aren't even sure he does have feelings for you. You need a stable heart before you can risk rejection all over again.

The game ends and you aren't even sure if anyone was keeping score, seeing as the game went way longer than most volleyball games that consist of 25 points and 3 rounds. It isn't long before a very sweaty Tom is standing over you.

Next thing you know he's pulling you up and untying your swimsuit coverup for you. The action has butterflies exploding in your stomach and you think back to what Carole said and hope to god he can't see the blush on your cheeks. He pushes it off your shoulders and you let it fall to the floor. His eyes remain respectful and he grins.

"ready to get in the water now?" You can't help the way his grin is contagious and find yourself really smiling before nodding. If you spent a little bit more time thinking about it, you'd realize that he's the only one whose been able to genuinely make you feel complete all week.

You two spend the next few hours splashing around and swimming, at one point you even offer to watch Bradley so Carole and who you now know as Nick can get in the water. Your heart clenches watching play with Bradley beside you. Your thoughts echoing the words Carole said earlier...'so will you and Tom".

You can't help but think of little blond haired blue eyed babies that would be Tom's. You swallow hard, trying to stomp down the feeling of wishing those same kids will have your nose and laugh. A perfect mix of the two of you.

By the end of the day you are exhausted, who knew a day at the beach would have you mentally exhausted. Though while your mind was running a mile a minute you were glad it was on something other than your ex.

Instead it was on the man sitting next to you, drinking a beer and laughing at whatever dumb thing slider said. His arm keeps brushing yours and you feel crazy, are you overthinking everything or are these hints?

What you didn't know is that Tom is thinking the same things you were. He's picture kids with your hair and his eyes and the way they'd have your smile and his stubborness. The way he wants you to come to the beach with him every weekend, and how badly he wants to wrap his arm around you right now.

He has to go about this the right way though, he can't scare you off. You just got out of something and Tom knew you better than anyone else. He knew you needed time, to come to terms, to grieve, to be at peace, before you could just give things with him a go. He could be patient, he's waited for you this long whats a couple more months?

He is a man that goes for the things he wants and he isn't afraid of a little waiting if it means hitting the lottery. You are his lottery, the one he wants to wake up with every morning, and when he can't sleep he just wants to be able to pull you closer.

Carole the little wingwoman she was, reported back that he definitely had a chance and if her words were anything to go by, a big chance too. It causes him to grin a little wider the rest of the day, and maybe he sits closer to you than normal just to feel you brush against him.

So when you rest your head on his shoulder as the sunsets on the beach, he would do anything to freeze this moment. To live here where it's just you, him, and the waves. No chaos, no stress just you two at peace.

Taglist:

@alanadetigy 

@luckyladycreator2 

@multiplefandomsmess 

@tkmarvel-divergentbish

@ohh-to-be-a-frog

@roosterschanelslut

@americaarse

@malindacath

@atarmychick007 

@trikigirl271

@lustfulseonghwa

@smoothdogsgirl

@nessrin

[satoshi-mochida]

Shiravune will release the PC version of novamicus-developed romance visual novel ONE. via Steam and Johren day and date with its Japanese release on December 22, the publisher announced. It will support English, Japanese, Traditional Chinese, and Simplified Chinese language options.

In Japan, a Switch version is also due out on December 22. It is currently unknown whether it will support multiple language options.

Here is an overview of the game, via Shiravune:

About

ONE. is a remaster of NEXTON‘s genre-defining and highly influential romance visual novel One: Kagayaku Kisetsu e, originally released in 1998, and is currently in production to celebrate the 30th anniversary of NEXTON’s foundation.

ONE. faithfully recaptures the beloved story of the original game and brings refined character designs by the one and only Itaru Hinoue. Further refinements and improvements are also provided for modern systems, ensuring that this classic story will remain a joy to experience for years to come. ONE. is sure to bring back memories for fans of old, and to draw a new crowd of fans to one of the foundational pillars of the genre.

ONE. is planned for release December 22, 2023, on Steam & Johren in English, Chinese, and Japanese.

Story What tied me to this world… 1998, winter. I was just a regular student until another world was born in me. Like softly falling snow, it blanketed and began to bury my everyday life. It was only then that I realized… That there were certain things in my life that never changed. The same familiar scenery. The warmth of the one I loved, who filled me with a joy I never noticed. Their existence tied me to this world.

It was when I first started to want these bonds, to want that special someone, that time began to pass, and sunlight caused the season to really shine.

When it did, which world was I standing in, and who was holding my hand?

Characters

Mizuka Nagamori

Birthday: September 26

Kohei’s childhood friend and classmate. A busybody who wakes him up every morning and can’t help but worry about him. If there’s anybody in my life who I should probably thank, it’s you, Nagamori. If we hadn’t met as children, I wonder where I would be now. Since the day we met, we’ve spent a lot of time together… even though you’re a meddler who gets on my nerves sometimes. But still, I have to thank you. You’ll always be my friend, right? But the words you said that day, that saved me… it’s like they’ve disappeared. I could’ve sworn you said—

Rumi Nanase

Birthday: August 8

A girl who transfers into Kohei’s class. She tries her best to be ladylike, but she always messes things up. Possibly because once she sets her mind on something, she single-mindedly sticks to it. On her first day, she ended up bumping into me after turning a corner like we were in some kind of rom-com. Unlike her looks, her personality was kinda… Actually, I’m scared of what she’d do to me if I finished that thought. She always seems to put a lot of thought and effort into becoming the ideal “lady.” Maybe I should reward her enthusiasm with a copy of my manuscript? “Nanase, always chasing the feminine ideal.” Of course, “always chasing” means never quite getting there… (THWUNK!!!)

Akane Satomura

Birthday: April 21

Kohei’s quiet classmate who makes her thoughts known with just a few words. She’s a great cook with a major sweet tooth. It was a gloomy, rainy day when I happened to leave home a bit early and met a girl holding a pink umbrella outside. That girl happened to be Akane. Turns out she was actually in my class. I didn’t think much of that encounter at the time, but I started talking to Akane a lot after that. She kept her distance from others even though all she wanted was for someone to see through her act and get close to her. At least, that’s how it felt to me. But… it also kinda did feel like she was really trying to avoid me, sometimes…

Misaki Kawana

Birthday: June 3

Kohei’s senior who lost her eyesight in an accident when she was little. Despite living in a world of darkness, her personality overflows with light, always positive and sociable. She loves her school’s katsu curry special. I was chilling on the sunset-dyed roof after school when a girl I didn’t know started talking to me. Her eyes were cool, but her smile was warm. I only found out she was my senior in both age and grade later. Also, what that cool look actually meant. Noticing my sudden uncertainty about how to speak to her, she whispered downcast, “Just how you normally would to anyone else.”

Mayu Shiina

Birthday: May 15

A girl younger than Kohei and Mizuka who refuses to go to school. She bursts into tears whenever something doesn’t go her way. Her favorite food is hamburgers. We met her the day she lost her one and only friend. A ferret. I guess she decided we were a good enough replacement, because from then on she stuck to us like glue. However, whenever something happened, she would throw a tantrum and scream that ferret’s name. She was a pain in the butt. But since it was the first time she was reaching out and getting to know other people, I couldn’t be too mad at her. Her beloved ferret might’ve died, but that death was the first step on her road to adulthood. Right, Shiina?

Mio Kouzuki

Birthday: June 4

Kohei’s expressive and bubbly junior. She doesn’t speak, but always carries a sketchbook to communicate with others. She’s a member of the drama club. I met Mio in our school’s cafeteria. Since then, whenever I happened to look for her, she was right there, smiling up at me. If I had to describe her, I guess she was like a rambunctious little sister? I have no idea what caused her to always smile like that, but I somehow came to take it for granted. She always tried her best at everything—usually resulting in nothing but a new mess for the rest of us to deal with. I doubt she ever noticed, though…

[kcyzacortez]

Mcdo

January 05, 2024 ( Friday )

Good morning ! Today is finally the last day of school, finally! So this is how my life today at school is like... I woke up at 5:20, still feeling so tired and wanting to sleep more. I figured to take a bath immediately to get rid of my sleepiness. ( Fast forward to me going to school ) . As i glanced over to the screen and saw the time, I was feeling uneasy. The time was already 7:16, i ONLY HAD 4 MINUTES LEFT TO GET TO SCHOOL! i couldn't bare to afford another late admission slip signed in my handbook again. So, once we reached school, I dashed up the 5 flights of stairs up my classroom, entering it with 1 more minute to spare. We had double sessions per subject today ( well, except for Math ) . The first subject was English, and we had a substitute, Sir Jomar. For our English teacher was holding a debate between the 5th graders. After answering my task, I slept for the rest of the period. I woke up from the noisy people, thinking it was already snack time, it was not. Next class was Chinese, we learned a new lesson about language and reviewed our our lesson yesterday, which was shapes. Lunch was up next and I quietly ate my lunch. 30 minutes later, it was Science. We learned about ' Gravitational Force ' and did some activities. I was kind of feeling lazy to answer them, but I eventually did though, only one activity out of three though<3. Next class was Math, which I only know about is Integers, since I wasn't listening for I was writing this ( But oh well ). That's it for now, bye ! ( we're meeting our friend from Baguio today, Lianne. I'm so excited<3 )

[spnhunter4life]

End Up Here Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: A few weeks into dating, Emily's friends finally get to meet Dean.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Last chapter is here! This does feel like a quick ending to me because as you might be able to tell by how much effort I put into including details about Emily's friends and place of work, I had initially planned on making this longer. I even have a separate Google Doc made for a character list (people and horses) and details about them. But I kind of lost interest in writing anymore and was happy with this as an ending point. I hope everyone else agrees!

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Six weeks went by during which Dean and I saw each other every weekend. We’d gone out to eat, seen a movie and attended a concert which we agreed was one of the worst concerts we’d been to, but it was still fun just being with him. Last week the fair had been in town so we spent our time together enjoying the food and rides and watching the rodeo. It was a lot of fun, but we both wanted to do something a little more lowkey the next weekend. 

We planned to spend the day together. He came over to my house at 10 am. He spent a little bit of time trying to get to know Ziggy – she was a bit nervous around him the way she was with every new person she met, but she didn’t outright hate him the way she sometimes did, so I was counting it as a win – and I appreciated his effort. He seemed to genuinely want to gain her trust. Whether for my benefit or his own, I wasn’t sure, but I was happy about it nonetheless. We took her for a walk right away, trying to get out before it was too hot outside. It gave us a chance to catch each other up on the events of the week and gave Dean a chance to see a little bit more of the town he was currently calling home.

We spent the rest of the morning playing card games and ordered Chinese food for lunch. After we ate, we sat together on the couch for a mini movie marathon. We’d both come up with a list of five favorites. We would choose from the list at random and get through however many movies we felt like watching. Leaning into Dean’s side, his arm around me and Ziggy curled up in my lap, I was happier than I could remember being in a long time. When supper time rolled around I threw a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven. 

Our last movie of the night finished just after midnight. We said goodbye and Dean kissed me in a way that left me a little weak in the knees. He kissed me for the first time after our second date and at least once every time we were together since then, but I was still nowhere near being used to the way it made me feel. It wasn’t because he was such a great kisser – which he was – it was just him. Being with him just felt right. I couldn’t be anything but happy when he was around. Sometimes just looking at him made me a little breathless so I really didn’t stand a chance when we were touching. I wondered if and when that would stop being the case.

Now it was Monday morning and I was in the office. It was Labor Day so we weren’t having any classes. We all came in for a meeting which ended ten minutes ago and were now just hanging out. Those of us who had plans for the day didn’t have anything going on until the afternoon, so we were just enjoying the company. Currently Lauren was trying to find a horse she’d seen for sale the other night and insisted was “absolutely perfect. We have to get him.”

“We already have all the horses we need. We’re not looking for new ones,” I reminded her.

“I know,” she said, waving me off distractedly. “But you’ll change your mind when you see him. Everybody has room for one more horse when it’s a horse like this.”

I knew that wasn’t the case. No matter how good of a horse it was, we simply didn’t have a need for it and as a nonprofit organization, we couldn’t afford to just throw money down on every good horse we came across. But I would humor her. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and she knew as well as I did that we wouldn’t be buying him. She just got excited about showing off nice horses when she found them, something none of us could fault her for.

“Ah hah!” She said triumphantly. “Here it is.”

We all crowded around her to see this amazing horse. I quickly scanned the pictures and information and rolled my eyes a little. I could see why she liked him. He was a very nice looking horse. Good conformation, good size, and the short video posted showed him to also be a good mover who listened to light cues. But the biggest reason she liked him, I knew, was because of his color. Lauren was a sucker for a dapple gray. 

“Isn’t he perfect?” Lauren swooned. There were a few murmurs of agreement and admiration.

“Depends on what you mean by perfect,” I answered. “He’s certainly not a good fit for here.”

“What? What could possibly be wrong with him?” Lauren countered.

“What is wrong with him?” Morgan asked. Though we all knew this was just for fun and not a serious interest in the horse, Morgan was quite serious. She was very proud to be part of this program and very good at her job, but her job was an office job. She didn’t get involved in the horse side of things, but she was always interested in learning more.

“Not counting the price?” I asked pointedly. Everyone looked back to the screen and saw the $17,000 asking price. It wasn’t unreasonable for that kind of horse – he was bred to be a show horse and had pretty decent bloodlines after all – but it was out of our price range.

“But just look at him move.” Rose insisted, always enjoying being difficult. In a teasing way of course. “Plus, he’s gorgeous.”

“He’s way too young,” I countered. He was only three years old, and we didn’t take horses younger than six. It was safer to have horses with at least a few years of experience on them.

“But he’s gorgeous,” Rose and Lauren said at the same time. 

“He’s a stud,” I argued. This very important fact didn’t shut the conversation down the way it would have if this were a horse we were really considering. 

“What’s wrong with trying something new?” Lauren asked.

“Alright then Lauren, if you want him so bad then how about you buy him and donate him. And then figure out a way to rearrange all the horses so he’s not with any mares while you’re at it.”

“Done,” she said immediately. I just laughed. 

“Speaking of studs,” Natalie said with a teasing smile. “How’s yours Emily?” 

“Yes, how is Dean?” Jackie quickly jumped in, always eager to know about people’s personal lives. 

“How’s Jake?” I countered, naming Natalie’s boyfriend of almost a year.

“He’s great,” she grinned, humoring my attempt at deflection. “He treats me like a queen. Very polite and gentlemanly during the day and practically falls at my feet to worship me at night.” Or teasing me for not immediately sharing, apparently.

“Great. Thanks for that mental picture,” I scowled. I didn’t mean it though, and she knew that. We shared pretty much everything with each other and Natalie especially was not shy with the details. This was not new information.

“Anytime,” she winked. “See how easy it is to share? Your turn.”

“I feel like all we talk about anymore is me and Dean. What about Hannah? How’s it going with Riley?” I asked.

“We talk about everybody pretty equally actually,” Jackie countered. I guess she would know. “You just don’t like to be the center of attention so it feels that way to you.”

She wasn’t wrong. And in the spirit of not wanting to be the center of attention, I brought it back to Hannah again.

“So? Riley?” Despite our predictions that night in the bar, the two of them were still going strong. Apparently Hannah really liked the guy and we had very badly misread things.

“Please. We’re old news,” Hannah said dismissively. 

“Old news? You’ve only been going out for like a month longer than me and Dean,” I said.

“Oh, that’s right!” Hannah said excitedly. “You’re coming up on two months aren’t you?”

“And you’ve managed not to scare him away!” Rose enthused, calling back to the joke she made the day after we met. “Congratulations! You must really have him hooked.”

“That joke just doesn’t get old,” I told her, trying to sound annoyed. The small curl I could feel in the corner of my mouth probably gave me away though. “You know, I think it might actually be even funnier the second time.”

“Well it’s certainly funnier than the ridiculous memes Jackie thinks are hilarious,” Rose replied. 

“Hey!” Jackie squeaked out in mock outrage. “They are hilarious. It’s just that none of you have a sense of humor.”

“Well I can see you ladies are hard at work,” said a deep male voice behind us. I recognized it immediately. 

“Dean!” I gasped out in delight as I spun around to see him. He was standing in the doorway looking happy to have surprised me, if not a little awkward.

“Hi,” he smiled my favorite smile, the one that made his eyes light up, as he opened his arms for a hug as I made my way to him. As his arms closed around me a strange mix of a steady, mellow contentment and a wild, overwhelming excitement filled my chest.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

“I just wanted to surprise you,” he shrugged. “And I hear so much about this place, I wanted to see it too. Sorry to interrupt,” he apologized to everyone else in the room. I pulled away from the hug but leaned into his side when he left one arm curled around my waist. “I was trying to wait for a break in conversation, but there wasn’t one and it was starting to feel like eavesdropping more than anything, so I figured I should just say something.”

I knew without looking that everybody would be ecstatic at this turn of events. They had all been dying to meet Dean and while I’d promised to figure out the best way to introduce them all, I admittedly hadn’t been trying very hard. I was happy just to keep him to myself for a little while longer.

“Wait,” I said, feeling a small frown form on my face. “How long were you standing there?”

“I came in just in time to hear you talking about the gorgeous boy who was too young. I’ll admit, it was a relief to realize you were talking about a horse.”

I saw the teasing gleam in his eye and whacked him on the shoulder. The laugh he’d been holding back broke free and I huffed and rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop a smile from tugging up the corners of my mouth.

A throat cleared, letting me know that someone was done with waiting for introductions. I looked back at my friends and saw Jackie with a raised eyebrow. She must have been the impatient one then. 

“Oh. Um, guys, this is Dean,” I said unnecessarily. They all knew very well who he was. “Dean, this is Lauren, Jackie, Natalie, Rose, Hannah, and Morgan,” I told him, gesturing to each girl as I named her. 

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Jackie said, perfectly fitting the part of an overexcited mother meeting her daughter’s boyfriend for the first time. “We’ve heard so much about you!” She continued, oblivious to the betrayed look I shot her way at this comment.

“Only the good stuff I hope,” Dean answered good naturedly. 

“Why?” Rose asked. “Is there bad stuff?” She said it in a joking tone, but I knew she was partially serious. 

“Rose.” I said in warning. It had only been 20 seconds and I was already itching to get Dean out of here, away from the group of women I loved like family but who, much like a real family, had the power to be truly embarrassing and frustrating. Dean brushed it off easily, though.

“Nothing bad enough to complain about I hope.”

“But we can’t forget the two most important questions,” Morgan chimed in. “How does Ziggy like you and how do you feel about horses?”

I smiled, grateful to her for lightening the mood before the others could start throwing out tactless, prying questions. They didn’t mean to be so intense and were actually usually better in smaller groups, but when we were all together like this, they just got too excited and carried away.

“Mm, yes. Very important questions. Answer carefully,” Nat agreed playfully.

“Well I only just met Ziggy so she’s not too sure of me yet. I’ll win her over though,” he said confidently. “And I’ve spent very little time around horses, but I’m willing to learn.”

“Great answer,” Jackie said approvingly. 

“Ok,” I said before Rose could voice whatever question she was clearly about to ask. On the one hand, I didn’t want to leave immediately when they just wanted to get to know Dean better, but on the other, I didn’t want to subject him to an unending line of questioning. Although he really should have known better than to drop in unannounced if he didn’t want to be interrogated. “I’m going to go show Dean around. We’ll see you guys later.”

I could see that they wanted to protest, but they all said goodbye. I didn’t miss Rose’s mouthed wow! when Dean’s back was turned or Jackie’s encouraging thumbs up. I ignored them both.

“It was nice to meet you,” Dean said with a wave as I ushered him out the office door, through the kitchen, and then outside.

“Hold on a second,” Dean said, sounding amused at the way I was dragging him along with me. He planted his feet and gently pulled on the hand I had tangled with his. “What’s the hurry?”

Just trying to escape before they decide to ambush us out here, I thought. 

I let him pull me closer as I tried to come up with an answer that wouldn’t make my friends sound bad. Before I could come up with anything though, he put one hand on my waist and one in my hair as he leaned down for another one of his butterfly-inducing, knee-buckling kisses. It wasn’t a long kiss, but I was still a little breathless when he pulled away.

“What was that for?” I breathed out. He smiled, looking a little proud of himself. Probably because of my inability to control my reactions around him.

“Just saying hi,” he told me. “I didn’t get a chance before. I didn’t figure you would appreciate it if I kissed you inside in front of all your friends.”

I laughed.

“That was very sweet of you,” I told him. “But I’m afraid waiting until we were outside was pointless. I can almost guarantee they’re all watching out the window right now.”

We both turned to look at the big picture window facing the deck we were currently standing on. Sure enough, there was a flurry of motion as they all scurried away.

“It’s the thought that counts?” Dean said a little apologetically.

“It’s fine, Dean,” I assured him. “It’s not like they weren’t already well aware that we’re dating.”

I took him on a tour of the facility. I explained to him how we did things and he had lots of questions. He asked about the different kinds of tack, some of the things we had set up in the arena, and, as I took him around to show him the horses, he wanted to know everything I could tell him about each one. I was really happy to see his genuine interest.

I didn’t expect his response when I expressed my surprise at the detailed questions he was asking.

“You’re just so in your element here,” he explained. “Normally you’re pretty quiet and sometimes unsure. You seem happy to let anyone else take the lead. But here? You’re like a whole different person. It’s really cool to see.”

I flushed a little at the assessment and the bit of pride I could swear I saw in his eyes, but I also couldn’t disagree. I’d noticed that myself. I’d actually come out of my shell quite a bit thanks to this job, but outside of work I was still pretty reserved a lot of the time.

Once I’d shown him everything and finally exhausted his seemingly endless questions, we decided to head back to my place. Dean wanted some more time to work on winning Ziggy’s affections so we planned to scratch a few more movies off of our list. 

I told Dean to wait outside while I ran inside quickly to grab my things. Rose’s car was the only one still in the parking lot. I braced myself for the probability of her questioning but was ready to brush her off at least for the day. Dean waiting outside was a reasonable excuse for not hanging around.

She was sitting at one of the desks, absently scrolling through her phone, clearly waiting for me. 

“Look, Rose, I know you want to talk, and I promise we will, but I don’t have time right now. Dean’s waiting for me,” I told her, making a preemptive strike.

“That’s ok. I assumed you would be spending the day together.”

“Oh. Then… Why were you waiting for me?” I wondered.

“I just wanted to be the one to let you know that we all love him.”

“Really?” I asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that’s great! But I got him out of here pretty quickly. You barely talked to him.”

“Yeah, about that. You’re going to have to let us actually talk to him one day, you know.”

“I know. And I really do want you guys to get to know him. It’s just-”

“It’s just that all of us all at once can be a little intense and you didn’t want to freak him out. I get it,” she said. “And we’d love the chance to talk to him, but we don’t need to get to know him to like him.”

“Because he’s so good looking?” I asked a little wryly. She smiled, but didn’t take the bait like I thought she would. 

“Because we were watching you two together out there – don’t give me that look. It’s spying, it’s rude, it’s wrong, I know. But we were curious, so sue us.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t contain my smile and gestured for her to continue.

“Anyway, we were watching you together and honestly, I’ve never seen you so happy. It’s obvious that you’re completely gone for the guy. You look at him like he’s the only one in the world who matters. And he was looking at you the same way. What more could we ask for, for you?”

“Thanks, Rose,” I said, feeling overwhelmingly happy. I gave her a hug.

“So on a scale from 1-10, how good of a kisser is he?” She asked. Of course she had to go and ruin the moment. I grabbed my purse and water bottle. 

She wasn’t a gossip like Jackie, but she still loved gathering up all of the nitty gritty details. Now that I thought about it, I was actually kind of surprised she’d waited this long to ask me this question.

“You’ll never know,” I told her, not wanting to get into it. Partly because Dean was right outside and it felt weird to touch that subject with him right there, and partly because Dean was right outside and I didn’t want him to have to wait too long.

“Obviously not. That’s why I’m asking you,” she insisted.

“Bye, Rose! Don’t forget to lock up!” I said over my shoulder. I heard her grumbling as the door closed, but knew she wasn’t mad. Just as she knew I would give in and give her the details eventually. 

“Ready?” Dean asked from where he was leaning against his car.

“Let’s go,” I agreed.

~~~~~

A little over an hour later, after stopping for lunch, we were just getting settled on the couch. I grabbed our list of movies, ready to choose a new one. 

“I have a question,” Dean said.

“Another one?” I asked, feigning exasperation. Dean’s answering smirk was knowing.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t love answering all those questions.”

He was right. I couldn’t deny it. I loved telling people about my work and I loved Dean’s interest.

“What’s your question?” I asked.

“It’s just something that’s been bothering me. A comment one of your friends made before you knew I was there.”

Uh oh. I wracked my brain, trying to remember exactly what we’d said. Did something offend him?

“She made a comment about how you haven’t scared me away yet.” He continued. “And then you said it wasn’t the first time she’s said that.”

“Oh,” I said, not really sure where he was going with this. “What about it?”

“Don’t you see a problem with that? I mean, why are your friends assuming you’d scare me? I know you said that before me it had been a while since you dated, but that doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.”

“It was just a joke,” I assured him. I loved that he was trying to look out for me, but I wondered why this upset him so much.

“But why?” He asked again.

“It was just… a way to lighten the mood I guess.”

He didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow and waited for me to explain. I sighed.

“Dean. Do you realize how attractive you are?” I asked him. “I mean, like… being realistic here, you’re kind of out of my league.”

His eyebrows wrinkled and his mouth pulled into a small frown.

“You think-”

“No, I don’t think. I know,” I cut him off. “And this isn’t me fishing for compliments or anything like that. It’s true. I know you’ve said before that you think I’m attractive, and I believe you and I’m glad, but the reality is, no matter what you think, you are out of my league. I mean, you could be a model.”

“What does this have to do with anything?” He asked, clearly not agreeing, but willing to let it go for now to hear my point.

“Well… remember how I told you I got ambushed at work the day after we met?”

“And they thought we went home together,” he said, confirming that he did remember.

“Exactly. When I told them that’s not what happened… Well they just didn’t want me to get my feelings hurt. They told me that you were probably the kind of guy that was just trying to use me. And when I let them know that definitely wasn’t the case, Rose just made a joke about how if you were so great, I needed to make sure I didn’t scare you away. She was just trying to lighten the mood. It really wasn’t an insult.”

He thought about it for a moment. 

“Ok, you’re right. I guess that’s not so bad. But just for the record…”

He kissed me again. It was much more intense than any other kiss he’d given me before. This was not a spontaneous, ‘just because I feel like it’ kiss. It wasn’t a hello or goodbye kiss. It wasn’t even an end of the night, leave ‘em wanting more kiss. This was a possessive kiss. A point proving kiss. I tried my best to keep up with the level of passion and enthusiasm he was throwing into it. When he finally broke away, I was very glad to be sitting down. I was sure I would have fallen over if I’d been on my feet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he concluded. 

“Um. That’s… yeah. I’ll be sure to give Rose the good news,” I said a little stupidly. My brain was working in overdrive and apparently none of it was helping with speech.

He laughed. It was a sound of pure happiness. Giddy, almost. I realized that I was ridiculously, hopelessly in love with this man. And I remembered what Rose said. About how Dean looked at me the same way I looked at him. Could he possibly feel the same?

“I mean it. I’m here to stay. I hope that’s ok with you.”

My cheeks hurt from the grin that split my face.

“I think I might be ok with that.”

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

[cousinkooksbackup]

Exchanged Love. || a bellyjere au fic

chapter thirteen

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bellys pov

The pulsating rhythm of music reverberated from somewhere down the street, creating a contagious buzz of anticipation in the air. As I gazed at the constant stream of people flowing in and out, red solo cups in hand, I couldn't help but wonder two things: how did they escape the fear of getting caught, and was this really my life now?

We were back in Boston, Conrad at Brown, and after the moment Jeremiah and I shared in the pool, we hadn't broached the subject again. Even the next morning, when I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him a second longer than I should have, he didn't return the glance. At that moment, I concluded that perhaps the universe had done me a favor by intervening, saving me from a potential disaster.

Conrad had left for Brown straight from Cousins, leaving Susannah and me to pile into Jeremiah's jeep. Thankfully, Susannah suffered from motion sickness and claimed the passenger seat, granting me the solitude of the back row. It was a relief, sparing me from reliving the night in the Sonic car park and worrying about her catching me staring at him.

The following days were a whirlwind of preparation for the new school year. Despite having packed enough clothes, Susannah insisted on taking me shopping, Jeremiah dove into football practices, and life became a blur of busyness. But it was good; Jeremiah and I eventually found our rhythm over those last few days. I envisioned our school year to be like this, sharing breakfasts in the morning, attending classes separately, and reuniting at the dinner table to recount our days—a friendship that merely grazed the surface, and that was fine with me. This way, my heart remained safely guarded.

Then, suddenly, it was Thursday night, and we were all gathered on the sofa, devouring Chinese takeout. Just three days separated me from my first day at a Boston high school. Jeremiah subtly suggested attending the back-to-school party thrown by his football buddy, EJ. Susannah didn't object, but there was one condition—I had to accompany him.

And that's how I found myself outside a seemingly enormous house, presumably EJ's. I had never been to a real party before. Sure, I'd seen them in movies, and I'd been to birthday parties, but this was different. It was a bit scary, meeting my new peers outside the school hallways, where they could pass judgment that might stick with me for the whole year. I was nervous.

"It'll be fine, Bells. Come on," Jeremiah encouraged me as my feet slowed to a halt on the pavement a few houses down.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my view of the lively scene ahead. Now, I was staring into those mesmerizing ocean eyes, the world fading away despite my silent pleas.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a soft, quiet voice. I knew he wanted to go, but I also knew that if I wanted to leave, we'd turn around and head back home. Not just because that's what Susannah wanted, but because that's who Jeremiah was as a person.

So I nodded, mustering up the brightest smile I could manage before placing both hands on his solid stomach, gently urging him toward the party.

"Come on, it's now or never, Fisher," I sighed. It was more for me than him, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fisher, my boy!" a booming voice echoed from the front porch of the house, followed by an even larger figure charging toward us. Jeremiah was on the ground in an instant, barely avoiding a collision with the running man by an inch. I stood in the wet grass, watching as a group of other guys joined in the fun. The football team, I presumed.

"Guys, you saw me like five hours ago at practice," Jeremiah laughed, fending them off with that smile I couldn't tear my eyes away from.

I felt a bit foolish just standing there, like an intruder on this moment. A mere chaperone to the festivities or a wallflower nobody noticed. I couldn't blame them; no one expected me, and for all they knew, I was just some girl walking down the sidewalk.

"Oh, shit, you're Belly!" one of the guys exclaimed. Dark-haired, perfectly styled, hazel eyes—captivating, although not quite like Jeremiah's.

The six boys, who had been a heap on the floor a moment ago, now turned their heads, and twelve eyes focused on me. My cheeks burned brighter than ever. All I could manage was a shy smile, resisting the urge to fiddle with the frayed edges of my denim shorts.

"Dude, she's hot, you're so right," one of them whispered not so quietly. The rest of them swarmed around me, all talking at once, a flurry of names thrown my way—EJ, Ricky, Wade, Brad, or maybe Chad? Perhaps Milo? It was overwhelming.

"Guys, back the hell up. Give her some space. You'll have plenty of time to get to know her." Jeremiah stepped in front of me, pushing two guys back slightly, and I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Some grumbled under their breath, but they all retreated, sneaking glances at me before heading into the house.

"Sorry about them; they're all a little excited," he laughed, brushing off his pants. "Come on, let me introduce you to everyone properly."

He slung an arm around my shoulder, leading the way into the grand house. I felt eyes on us, perhaps because I was new, or perhaps it was because I was with Jeremiah.

Soon enough, I realized it was the latter. Everyone seemed to know him. Girls waved, boys greeted him with handshakes, and people in the hallway greeted him with smiles. I shouldn't have been surprised; his personality was infectious, impossible not to like.

"Oh, Lacie is going to hate this," the guy I believed was EJ mused, handing us two solo cups. His gaze shifted to me and Jeremiah, their proximity not going unnoticed.

Who was Lacie, and why would she hate this? Jeremiah's arms released me to take the cups, one for me and the other for him. I could smell the pink liquid from here, reeking of alcohol. I wanted to tell Jeremiah I'd never had a drink before, but now didn't seem like the time. So instead, I kept the cup in my hand, far from my lips.

"Well, she's not here right now, and it doesn't matter because Lacie and I are done, have been for a while," Jeremiah stated firmly, speaking as if it were an undeniable truth. The guys all laughed. I hoped he hadn't had a girlfriend all this time; that would have been messed up.

"Who's Lacie?" I asked, and a dozen eyes darted back to me. Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

One guy appeared from around the corner of the kitchen island, casually draping his arm around me, just like Jeremiah had. This was Wade, I think.

"Lacie is Jeremiah's—what's the opposite of a pain in the neck?" he turned to ask his friends, eliciting a chorus of laughter. "Actually, Jeremiah is Lacie's pain in the neck. She leads this guy around like a dog, and they break up every other month."

"Shut the hell up, Wade, and get off her," Jeremiah snapped, rolling his eyes as he downed the contents of his cup. Wade raised his hands in surrender, winking at me before retreating to the other side of the counter.

So Jeremiah was involved with someone, which was just great—really, it didn't bother me at all. Maybe she'd become a built-in girlfriend for me, making it easier to let go of whatever was happening between Jeremiah and me. Or maybe I'd just be jealous.

"Well, I can't wait to meet her," I smiled softly, pushing my full cup toward Jeremiah, who looked like he could use another drink right about now.

"Oh, I think you'll regret saying that," another guy chimed in—maybe Ricky?

"Yeah, if I were you, I'd keep a one-mile distance between you and Lacie," another guy added, perhaps that was Ricky. Whoever he was, he laughed and leaned against the counter across from me.

"I don't know who we're talking about, but if the answer is to avoid Lacie, I always vote yes," a voice sounded from behind me.

A short girl strolled over, hopping onto the countertop beside me before pressing her lips to EJ's in front of us all—a very public display, to say the least.

"Oh my god, you're Belly! Babe, why didn't you tell me she was here? I'm being, like, so rude right now," she whined, her eyes landing on me. She was incredibly pretty, with blondish wavy hair and an athletic frame on her petite body. She hopped off the counter in seconds, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug, displaying remarkable strength for someone so small.

"I'm Taylor Jewel, your new neighbor and best friend," she declared with unshakable confidence. It seemed like she could walk into any room and make people fall in love with her. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I could definitely use a friend this year, I think, or a couple," I replied, glancing around at the boys who watched us with eager smiles. My mind was finally starting to ease.

"Back off, TayTay. Bells is my best friend. You can be second best," Jeremiah declared, slinging his arm around me once more, pulling my back flush against his chest. EJ protested in the background, claiming that he was Jeremiah's best friend. All I could do was laugh; maybe this school year would be even better than I anticipated.

"Jerebear!" a shrill voice called out above the booming music surrounding us. Everyone groaned, and Wade mouthed the word "run" to me, but it was already too late.

At first, I don't think she could see me. To be fair, I was still pressed up against Jeremiah, and he towered over me, obscuring my presence. Her voice cut short as she came around from behind us, her eyes finally landing on me.

This was precisely the girl I had expected Jeremiah to be with—tall, blonde, legs like a supermodel. She had pretty pink lips and eyes that were almost golden. Those eyes narrowed as they scanned me, taking in the proximity between me and Jeremiah.

"Who's this?" she asked, her lips forming a tight smile, her voice oozing with sickening sweetness. She waited expectantly for Jeremiah to say something—anything—but it was as if he had suddenly lost his ability to speak.

"Oh—uh, Belly! The Fisher's exchange student this year," I filled the awkward silence, pulling away from Jeremiah's grip and extending a hand toward her. She never took it, instead flashing me a condescending smile—one that made me feel small, a feeling I vowed not to let define me this year.

"I'm Lacie," she said tightly, her eyes shifting back up to Jeremiah. "His girlfriend," she clarified. If this had happened before I heard Jeremiah's confident denial, I might have believed her. If she had shaken my hand, I might have been more forgiving. But instead, I offered her my best smile.

"Oh, that's so funny, Jere never mentioned you this summer. Nice to meet you, though."

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Jirou Akutagawa

[PROFILE]

Birthday: May 5th (Taurus)

Blood Type: AB

Relatives: Father, Mother, Older Brother, Younger Sister

Father’s Occupation: Self-Employed (dry cleaning company)

Elementary School: Hyotei Academy Primary School

Middle School: Hyotei Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Third Year | Class 3-C | Seat 2

Club: Tennis Club (Regular)

Committee: Community Activities Committee

Strong Subjects: Engineering, PE

Weak Subjects: Classic Literature, Chinese Literature

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Courtyard, Rear Garden, Rooftop, Infirmary

Favorite Motto: “All things come to those who wait.”

Daily Routines: Changing his pillowcase

Hobbies: Reading manga (in magazines), sleeping, going to collaboration cafes [TP]

Favorite Color: Orange

Favorite Music: He falls asleep no matter what he listens to

Favorite Movie: He falls asleep no matter what he watches

Favorite Book: Any shounen manga (he’s recently borrowed one from Yuuta [TP])

Favorite Food: Lamb, mousse pocky, Country Ma’am cookies [23.5]

Favorite Anniversary: “Autumn when I was a First Year~… What day was it?”

Preferred Type: A bright and fun girl

Ideal Date Spot: A manga cafe ➜ A bookstore you can sleep in [TP]

His Gift for a Special Person: “The sheep alarm clock I use.”

Where He Wants to Travel: He doesn’t care where, just as long as he can stay at a nice hotel

Thing He Wants Most Right Now: “I want a big sofa in my room.” ➜ “A summer house… So, whaddya say? Atobe!” [TP]

Dislikes: Tomatoes, the stairs at Gakuto’s house [23.5]

Skills Outside of Tennis: Reciting all the Stand names from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, performing the Kamehameha from Dragon Ball [23.5]

Spends Allowance On: Buying new flavors of pocky

Routine During the World Cup: Doing high fives with Marui

[DATA]

Height: 160cm

Weight: 49kg ➜ 51kg [23.5]

Shoe Size: 26cm

Dominant Arm: Right

Vision: 1.5 Left & Right

Play Style: Serve & Volleyer

Signature Moves: Magic Volley

Time He Wakes Up: 7:00am

Time He Goes to Sleep: 10:00pm

Number of Days He Goes to Morning Practice: Twice a month

Favorite Brands:

Racquet: WILSON (HYPER PRO STAFF 7.6 with ROLLERS)

Shoes: WILSON (SURGE DST 02 Mid S1234W)

Overall Rating: Speed: 3 / Power: 3 / Stamina: 3 / Mental: 3 / Technique: 5 / Total: 17

Kurobe Memo: “A player like Akutagawa who relies on his instincts is a little hard to train… He also often oversleeps. If he would at least finish the regular training program, I would be able to give him some quantifiable results and feedback.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bag:

Pocky // A girl in his class put it in his bag while he was asleep

Manga // His older brother is also a manga lover and lends his manga to Jirou once he’s done reading them

Marui’s wristband // He forcibly took it from Marui during the Newcomer’s Tournament when they were First Years

A cell phone with GPS functionality // His parents gave it to him since they’re worried about him falling asleep anywhere

Copies of the class notes // His classmates worked together and made them for all subjects

An alarm clock that adjusts the time using radio waves // Bought by the club members as a birthday gift

What’s in His Locker [C&S]:

Two plastic water bottles (he uses them as pillows)

A wall clock

Towels // There’s a large pile of them inside his locker. It may be that he’s using them as pillows or bedding so he can sleep in his locker…