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#i know it's weird that this is from a christmas book but it's supposed to be like......gift ideas or whatever
bilbao-song · 10 months
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Better Homes and Gardens Treasury of Christmas Ideas, 1966.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 5 months
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Ravel
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A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard
{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: T
Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.
Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited
Word count: 2k
Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!
There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.
I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️
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Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.
He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.
Your sweater.
The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.
Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.
Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 
Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.
As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.
He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.
The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 
Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’
‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.
Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’
Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’
The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’
‘... A sweater.’
Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’
‘You think?’
‘Want me to go get Lucy?’
With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’
At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’
Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’
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Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 
The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.
Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.
He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.
‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’
Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’
‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 
A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.
He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.
‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’
‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.
He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 
‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.
Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.
You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’
He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’
His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’
He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’
You frown at him. ‘Why?’
‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’
You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.
He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.
Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.
Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.
Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’
You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’
Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’
You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’
Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’
Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.
And yet. 
You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 
‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.
He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’
You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 
‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’
He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’
‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’
Joel pauses. 
For him.
For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.
And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.
His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.
A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’
It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 
‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’
‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.
Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’
You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’
Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’
Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’
He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’
You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’
‘I know you are,’ he smiles.
‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’
His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’
You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.
In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’
His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’
‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.
‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.
You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’
Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’
You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’
Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.
Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.
He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.
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Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️
More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️
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rainylana · 1 year
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“Something you wanted.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
Summary: you show up to Eddie and Wayne’s with gifts.
Warnings: language, very soft eddie, eddie doesn’t know how to react to presents, some insecurities on his behalf, new relationship with him and the reader. i hope everyone had a great christmas!!<3 okay and also i’m not going to do my taglist anymore because that’s a pain in the ass so sorry for my laziness!!
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“Merry Christmas!” You beamed, lugging in bags of christmas presents in your arms, huffing a breath as you tried to cram yourself in the door.
“Uh- babe,” Eddie helped usher you through the door, eyeing your skeptically. “Why do you look like Santa Clause?”
You chuckled as you dropped your gifts to the floor, face red from the cold. “I look like mrs. clause, thank you very much. You like my skirt?” You twirled your red and white skirt, matched with a red sweater and a santa hat on your head.
“What are you doing here?” He started patting the snow off your shoulders, closing the door to his home. “Thought you’d weren’t coming over till tomorrow.”
“Well tomorrow won’t be christmas anymore!” You smiled, looking around the trailer. “Is Wayne here?”
Eddie gave you another weird look before turning. “Old man! Y/n’s here!” When he looked back you were on the ground shuffling through your gift backs.
“What are those for?”
You paused, looking up at him to give a funny look. “What do you think they’re for? They’re for you guys, dummy! Christmas presents!”
“All of these?!” His eyes widened. “Y/n- no way, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know that.” You chuckled, taking them out one by one at his feet. “But I wanted too.”
“Why is Santa in our living room?” Wayne announced himself, standing in the kitchen with a raised brow.
“Merry Christmas, Wayne!” You waved, sparking off your pearly teeth. “You guys go sit down so I can pass these out!”
Eddie looked to his guardian with confused eyes, not sure what to do. Wayne muttered under his breath as he made his way to the couch, nodding for Eddie to sit down.
“Okay, so I have these labeled.” You crawled over to their feet with two gifts in hand. “Read what it says.” You sat them in their lap.
Eddie was looking at it like it was a ticking time bomb, while Wayne fished out his reading glasses. “Something you need.” His voice came out in a deep hum.
“Are we supposed to open it?” Eddie said confused.
Wayne rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Yeah, Eddie, open it!”
He nodded before both of them started to tear open the paper, and you noticed how Eddie kept looking at you, then to the other gifts you had behind you.
“Underwear?” Eddie raised a brow, holding up a five back of boxers.
“Oh, thank god,” Wayne exhaled. “You’ve been living in those blue checkered ones for three years now.”
“I have not!” Eddie burned red, straightening. “Quit talking, old man, and open you’re shit.”
“Hey, I’m the one who does your laundry, boy, I outta know.”
You giggled behind your teeth, watching as Eddie felt the fabric at the opening, giving you an awkward smile.
“Batteries?” Wayne said skeptically.
“Uh-huh!” You nodded. “Because the last time I was over you were bitching about your flashlight dying with those old batteries, so know you don’t have to bitch!”
“Thank god.” Eddie praised. “Say, thank you, old man.”
Wayne gave his nephew a glare before giving you a grateful nod. “Thanks, kid.”
“You’re welcome.” You nodded back. “Okay, next!” You reached behind you to grab two other gifts, making their jaw drop.
“Y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” Eddie furrowed his brows as you placed another gift in his lap. “We don’t need-”
“Something to read.” Wayne read the label on the red paper before tearing it open.
Eddie hurried to catch up.
“Hey, nice,” Wayne chuckled. “Peanuts comics.” He showed to Eddie. Wayne liked to read the comics in the paper before work, especially peanuts and Garfield. “Thanks, doll.”
“No fucking way.” Eddie cursed, revealing a thick, brown book. “You did not.” His eyes were wide as saucers. “Y/n, this is-”
“Not as expensive as you think.” You finished for him, grabbing his calf. “Just look inside, it’s actually pretty cool!”
It was a collectors edition version of The Fellowship of the Ring, maps on the inside, facts of lore and inspiration from the author. Eddie had seen it once in a bookstore in Indianapolis. That was four months ago.
“Pretty cool?” Eddie’s voice rose an octave. “Babe, this is amazing.” He looked over at Wayne, holding up his book as the man smiled at him. “Look away, old man.” Eddie flung his hand toward Wayne as he leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. “Thank you so much.” Eddie allowed himself to smile. “Really, thanks a lot. This is epic.”
You blushed, your heart warming at his own happiness. “Okay last one.” You placed two other gifts in their lap as wrapping paper laid down at their feet.
“Something you wanted.” Eddie read this time, giving you a smile.
Wayne tore into his quickly, making you laugh as he revealed his present. “Now, just how and the hell did you know I wanted this?” Wayne chuckled, holding out his new leather wallet. It was expensive, but they didn’t need to know that.
“I specifically heard you say damn wallet one day when the zipper was stuck.” You smirked, patting his knee.
“New chains!” Eddie squealed that time, nearly jumping in his seat. “Holy shit, thank you!”
You smiled widely, then over to Wayne who looked very proud. “You’re welcome, Ed’s.”
“These will look perfect on my black jeans, don’t you think?” He asked, taking them out of the package.
“Without a doubt.” You tossed off your santa hat, getting hot. “Look right sexy.”
And then Eddie got quiet. Very quiet. Both you and Wayne noticed it, but he was the first to say something. “You okay, bud?”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything, keeping his head down. You tried to find his eyes but couldn’t, chewing on your lip nervously. He had seemed to like everything.
Wayne mentioned something about going out for a smoke, stepping over the wrapping paper and thanking you once more for the gifts.
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his ankle. “You’re quiet all of a sudden.”
Your heart sank when you saw he was crying. “Hey,” you said gently, moving to sit beside him on the couch. “Eddie, what’s wrong? I saved the receipts if you want to exchange them.”
“Exchange them?” Eddie looked at you, eyes tearful and red. “No, y/n, it isn’t that. It’s just…”
This wasn’t normal for him. Wayne and him would give each other something small sure, but someone coming into their home with gifts wasn’t normal. Someone thinking of them for a change wasn’t normal. You should of realized, but it wasn’t your fault. This was your first christmas with him.
“Hey,” You grabbed his red cheeks. “You deserve every little bit of this and more, you hear me?” You wiped his tears with your thumbs. “You’re my boyfriend and I love you. I wanted to do this.”
“I’m sorry,” He shook his head shamefully. “I just..well, I’m not very good at this stuff. I have something for you too, but it’s not near as good as all of this.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, baby.” You shook your head. “That’s not what this is about. I just want you to know how much I care about you, is all. That’s what this time of year is for. Both you and Wayne deserve it.”
Eddie allowed himself to shed one more tear before he buried his face under your chin, pressing his nose against your collar bone. “I love you so much. I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.” You wrapped your arms around him, kissing his ear. “Both of you deserve this.”
You could feel his tears slide down your skin, and you held him tightly close, knowing Wayne was outside probably close to freezing to death. When you heard his sniffled stop, you peaked down at him with a smile. “Should we go check on your uncle? He’s probably an ice block by now.”
Eddie chuckled and sniffled, using his sleeve to wipe his tears. “Yeah, let’s go check on the old man.”
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riaki · 5 months
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dog treats (for humans) | yuuji itadori x reader
pt.5 of christmas event! vry short sorry, a day late but it works as fluff for the jjk ep today !?
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"[name], look! i baked something!"
your immediate thoughts are something along the lines of oh, no.
yuuji's a decent cook. or at least, that's what you like to believe; hours of the two of you making messes in your kitchen after ruining the recipe book you were following prove otherwise. still, he's not half bad. and there was that one time he taught his roommate to make meatballs; something vague like 'a legacy of hotpot meatballs'. that's your boyfriend for you.
baking, though, is certainly not his forte. as demonstrated by the giant blob of half-baked somethings on the tray; an amalgamation of dough stuck to the wax paper.
you're not quite sure what you're looking at when you enter the kitchen of your apartment; it's an absolute mess. there's flour everywhere, and some strange looking leftover dough sitting in a clump on the counter. it smells a bit weird, but that's not new. what draws your attention the most other than the flour coating the polaroids on the fridge or the four spatulas on the counter is the mess on his person.
he's coated in flour. there's dough sticking to his cheeks, almost like whiskers on his face— but that does nothing to dampen the sunny grin on his lips. his hair is ruffled, clumps of flour and powdered sugar clinging to the tips. you can just picture him mussing his hair in frustration, fingers running through the soft pink strands, the color of grapefruit and strawberry lemonade on a midsummer evening.
"what exactly did you make?" you asked, glancing him up and down. he's wearing the holiday apron you bought him on a whim; it's so dirty that you don't even recognize the pattern of the golden retriever stitched to the front. it looks more like a lima bean now.
he grins, pushing the baking tray towards you as if you're supposed to come to some grand realization of what exactly he did make.
"i made dog treats! for fushiguro. you think he'll like 'em?"
"those are dog treats...?"
you certainly wouldn't've been able to tell from first sight. but that explains the peculiar smell; it must've been a product of whatever he was doing.
"yeah! aren't they great?" he laughs, full of mirth, and you catch his smile on your own lips. his enthusiasm is infectious.
"they seem more like regular cookies." you note, observing the mess on the tray. the edges are burnt a gentle caramel crisp; if you didn't know better, you would've definitely taken the initiative to make cute cookies with your cookie cutters and frost them however you like.
you're too lost in your thoughts to notice what he's doing until it's too late— your stupidly beloved boyfriend has broken off a chunk and taken an equal sized bite out of it, chewing with all the thoughtfulness of a michelin star chef. there's a few crumbs in the corner of his mouth, and if not for the contents he probably would've asked you to wipe some jam on his lips and treat yourself to a sweet treat on his cheeks.
"yuuji!" you reach out, snatching the tray from him and setting it down before you scowl out the cheeky look on his full cheeks. "spit it out." you demanded, and you're faintly reminded that it's probably fine for him to be eating them because he's acting like a puppy anyway.
he just grins at you through a mouthful, shaking his head vigorously and swallowing as he pumps his fists, and you can practically see the stars in his eyes. "'s great! you shbould try ib, bwabe."
you just roll your eyes (albeit fondly), reluctantly reaching over to the tray to break off a chunk of the dog treats(?). you give it a good feel and sniff before nibbling off a piece, trying to discern the taste in your mouth. you're starting to think that yuuji might've mistakenly made regular cookies and called them dog treats. there was no sign of raw meat or anything on the counters, which only strengthened your suspicions.
"hey, it's actually not that bad." you marveled, glancing up at him again. he's watching you expectantly, waiting like a little puppy for your response. his eyes light up like stars; far too excited for such a weak answer as yours, but his enthusiasm shines through either way.
"right? i was thinking, maybe we could keep them to ourselves..."
"don't get carried away, yuu." you sighed, shaking your head. but he just grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you close to press an insistent smooch to your lips.
he laughs, sending vibrations through your skin as he peppers your face with floury eskimo kisses. "you'd rather me gift him these things? he'd sic his dogs on me!"
"...maybe you're right. let's just keep them, then."
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my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !
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peotego · 1 month
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Unconditionally | James' POV
Pairing: James Potter x fem!Black!reader
Summary: Unconditionally but from James' POV.
Warnings: some swear words, Sirius being an ass in the beginning, my English? (since it’s not my first language)
Words: 3,5k+
Masterlist
In James Potter’s life, there was only one girl.
The only girl he ever had eyes on.
Oh, how he loved to look at her smile or laugh with her friends. How he adored the way she would throw her head back when he told a really funny joke. How absolutely and utterly in love with her he was.
He sometimes looked at her as if she was the one who hung the stars and the moon herself. As if she was the ruler of an old kingdom and he was supposed to serve her night and day. She was the first person he thought about in the morning and the last one in his mind before going to sleep.
But she was also his best friend’s sister.
She was untouchable.
And James Potter was seriously fucked.
He remembered when he first thought about her in a non-friendly way. It was quite soon when she stopped being just a buddy he would hang out with and started being the girl.
It was shortly after the Christmas break in their first year. (Y/N) and Sirius were already on a train and he came in late. (Y/N) was wearing a black dress and that was the first time when James noticed she was actually a girl. Of course, the girls in Hogwarts were wearing skirts as the uniform required it but James never paid a mind to it. However on that very train at the beginning of January, he noticed that one of his mates was a beautiful girl.
He didn’t know what to do with those feelings so he tried talking to his best friend about it.
A bad idea, right? Since his best friend was also a brother of the girl he was developing feelings for.
”Sirius, we need to talk”
”What’s up, mate?” Sirius was lying on his bed mindlessly playing with some spells he read about. Remus was in the common room trying to read a book and Peter was nowhere to be found.
”I think I have a crush on this girl” confessed James. That caught Sirius’ attention as he smiled wickedly.
”Really? Who is she?”
”It’s (Y/N)”
”(Y/N)? As in my sister (Y/N)?”
”Well, yeah”
James looked at his best friend expectantly. He did expect a piece of advice on what to do with those feelings or how to act on them. What he did not expect was the outburst.
Sirius was angry, furious even.
”James, she is my sister, you can’t have a crush on her!” Sirius stood from the bed and looked at James in shock ”She is my sister!” He repeated ”She is off limits for you. If you ever try to pursue her, it will ruin our friendship! Imagine what would happen if things didn’t work out between you two. How am I supposed to pick sides? What would you expect me to do? Side with you? Because I couldn’t do that! She is my family and I would have to pick her over you! Do you really want to ruin our friendship like that? Does it really mean that little to you?”
”Sirius, calm down” James panicked ”It’s just a stupid crush, it will pass”
”It better do, James, because we’re gonna have a big problem”
For a few days, James avoided (Y/N) like a plague. He was only eleven years old and he really thought that by acting on his weird feelings he would completely ruin his friendship with Sirius. It didn't help that by saying "we're gonna have a big problem" James thought Sirius implied he would beat him up.
James would not only lose (Y/N) but also Sirius. So he tried to get over it.
*~*~*
But in their third year, he still had those feelings. He was still crushing on his best friend’s sister. And he was truly terrified.
He started to hate those butterflies that appeared whenever (Y/N) was in the same room, whenever she talked to him, laughed with him, or touched his shoulder.
It was so obvious that Sirius picked on it and started a very serious talk with his friends one night.
”Guys, gather up, we need to talk about something very important” Remus looked at James and raised his eyebrows as if James knew what it was all about. Potter only shrugged his shoulders. When all three boys gathered close to Sirius’ bed, Black started talking.
”You’re probably wondering what is this all about. So let me explain. Birds told me that one of you has unconventional feelings for my sister. Look, I get it. (Y/N) is amazing. She’s smart, funny, kind, and she’s got this incredible smile that can light up a room. Believe me, I know, I live with her. Guys, respect the boundaries. Falling in love with my sister can complicate our friendship and put my sister in a tough spot, and I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable or pressured in any way. I want you all to know that I appreciate you guys. We’ve got each other’s backs, we’re like a family. I want to trust you and I want to know that you won’t hurt my sister. Let’s keep the love we have for (Y/N) as sisterly as possible and keep our romantic interests directed somewhere else.”
”What?” Asked Peter when Sirius ended his little TED talk ”Who has a crush on (Y/N)? Is it you Remus?”
”Doesn’t matter” said Sirius quickly ”Just promise me, all of you, that you will never ever fall in love with my sister”
James stared at his best friend in disbelief. He felt betrayed, slapped in the face. What was he supposed to do other than agree to Sirius’ madness?
”Well, I can promise you that,” Remus said as the first one of the group.
”Me too” added Peter.
Sirius looked expectantly at James as the other two of their friends also looked his way. So as not to look suspicious, James shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
”Yeah, sure, I have my eyes on a different girl, I think she’ll be the future Mrs Potter” James lied. It was so easy to do so that he was surprised himself.
”Oh, yeah? Who is she?” Sirius didn’t believe him at all, he still remembered the conversation they had in their first year, and he still remembered the way James looked at his sister with lovey-dovey eyes.
”It’s… Lily Evans!” James himself was surprised when he heard what he had said. Lily Evans was one of (Y/N)’s friends, they were inseparable, always sitting together, laughing together, or whispering about some secrets during dinner. It was an obvious choice. Simple.
”My, my, James” Sirius smirked ”Then we have to ensure you go on a date with Evans soon!”
From that day forward James Potter pursued Lily Evans, even though he never liked her as more than a friend. But he wanted Sirius to stop being suspicious of him.
So he declared his love for the redhead girl the next morning to the whole school.
*~*~*
As years went by James’ feelings for (Y/N) only grew stronger. Each encounter with Sirius’ sister became an exquisite torture, a stolen sip from a well of emotions. He observed her, like a creepy stalker.
In the deepest parts of him, James harbored an affection, silent and concealed, a love he knew was not his to claim. He was a prisoner of this affection, torn between loyalty to his best friend and the magnetic pull of his heart towards his best friend’s sister.
When during one party in their 6th year Marlene suggested a game of Spin the Bottle, James was excited. That was his way to steal a kiss from the girl of his dreams without Sirius growing suspicious of him. It was only a game after all, right?
But when Remus mentioned that he shared his first real kiss with (Y/N) Black, James saw green. He sulked in his seat sending daggers into his friend’s back. If looks could kill, Remus would be long dead by now. And when he got to be the first one to kiss her in the game, years later, James’ angry fist hit the floor a little too much which made Mary look at him with a smirk.
As the game progressed James became more desperate so without his friends knowing he enchanted the bottle when (Y/N) spun it so it would definitely land on him.
He watched as her eyes went wide with the realisation of who she was supposed to kiss and James was scared for a minute that she would choose to tell the truth and drink instead of kissing him. But she didn’t. And he couldn’t be happier.
Her demeanor quickly changed and she smirked wickedly while saying ”Two out of three. Better get ready Peter”
Sirius shouted something about this whole situation being disgusting but James paid no mind to him. He was definitely too drunk to care. Slowly he got up from the place where he sat on the floor and made his way to (Y/N). When he positioned himself before her, he looked deep into her eyes and, oh Merlin, how he loved those eyes. Those eyes held the power over him. He marveled at the way they sparkled like stars in a night sky. He loved the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, how he could read her like an open book only by one look.
James put his hand on (Y/N)’s cheek and leaned into her. When his lips crushed on hers James could swear he saw fireworks. And when she kissed him back with just as much force he could only smile into the kiss. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth while she grasped his shirt trying to bring him closer. Oh, sweet Merlin, James could only dream about a moment like that. When (Y/N) bit his lower lip he couldn’t help but moan.
James tried bringing her closer to him if that was even possible, but his drunk self had too much strength and they fell to the ground, (Y/N)’s body under his.
”That’s enough, Prongs, it’s my sister” Sirius’ strong arms pulled James from (Y/N). Potter couldn’t help himself and grimaced but luckily Sirius didn’t see anything because he helped his sister get up. The only person who saw his face was Lily as she smiled at him knowingly.
*~*~*
That same night when the girls went to their dorm, Sirius started a conversation.
”How is it, Prongs, that you’re supposedly in love with Evans but couldn’t get enough of my sister while kissing her, hm? I thought you two were gonna have sex right in front of us”
”Padfoot, please, stop it already. We talked about it in our third year”
”Yeah, I remember, but I can’t shake the feeling that you lied to me”
”Padfoot…”
”He’s not wrong, James,” said Peter getting ready for bed ”You two looked very… comfortable”
”Horny, Wormtail, the word you were looking for is horny” added Sirius. ”See? I’m not the only one seeing this!”
”You’re all delusional. I’m going to bed”
So the next day during breakfast James shouted how much he loved Lily Evans even though it wasn’t true. And Evans kinda looked disappointed.
*~*~*
When the summer break between their 6th and 7th year at Hogwarts came, Sirius and (Y/N) spent it at the Potters. And while James couldn’t be more happy about it he was also angry that his best friend tried to be everywhere with them. Sirius wouldn’t leave (Y/N) and James alone even for one minute.
So when Sirius felt sick, James tried to twist the situation to his advantage and asked (Y/N) if she wanted to stargaze with him.
”Jamie, your father wants me to marry you,” she said unexpectedly and James felt shivers run down his spine. He would kill Fleamont Potter for his big mouth later.
”What?!”
”Yeah, crazy, right? He thinks I’m your mystery girl”
Because you are and he knows it, thought James to himself.
”Oh, and what did you tell him?”
”That it’s definitely not me. That I know the girl you have a crush on and he said that we’ll see”
”I have no idea why he said that, I’m very sorry” After what she said James thought that she wasn’t interested in him in any way. He needed to protect his own heart. So he distanced himself.
”No big deal, Potter”
While James was sulking and drowning in his own unrequited feelings, (Y/N) suddenly spoke again.
”James”
”(Y/N)”
”I’ve been thinking about you and Lily for a while”
What?
”Oh?”
”Yeah. I think she doesn’t deserve you”
That’s interesting, thought James.
”How so?”
”You see, Jamie, you’ve been trying to get the girl since we were thirteen years old and she’s still not even slightly interested in going on a date with you. She’s always laughing at you, turning you down. I don’t think that’s very good for you. I get that you’re in love with her but maybe you should start thinking about yourself a little bit?”
A stupid, stupid heart that started to beat faster. A glimmer of hope appeared inside of James.
”What do you mean?”
”You deserve the world, James Potter. You deserve a girl who will be madly in love with you. You deserve a girl who will love you unconditionally. You are a good guy. Sure, you have your faults. We all have them. But you should be loved the way you love other people - wholeheartedly. I don’t think Lily is the right girl for you. I'm also not saying you should do whatever I’m telling you right now. I just believe you should think about it a little bit and decide if it’s even worth it. Because you, James Potter, are definitely worth it and it’s her loss if she cannot see that”
If James Potter was confused before, imagine him in that moment. (Y/N) Black made no sense to him. She said that he should look for a girl that would give him all the love he deserved but she didn’t see that she was the girl he already loved.
So James did what he always did when he was confused. He joked.
”Wow, Black, do you have a crush on me or something?”
”You’re also an idiot” She slapped his shoulder and just like that they got back to where they started - to being just friends, which James hated by the way. "I’m your friend, I just hate to see you struggling so much."
”You are a good mate, (Y/N) Thank you for always looking out for me”
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
He didn’t mean to say it.
But what are you supposed to say to the girl you love when you’re not sure if she harbors the same feelings for you?
He gently took her hand In his and interceded their fingers. How he longed for that to mean more.
”Always”
*~*~*
After that conversation, when their 7th year began, James Potter promised himself that he would do absolutely everything in his power to convince (Y/N) Black that they were meant to be. So he stopped pursuing Lily Evans and after a long talk with her, when she advised him to just stop listening to Sirius and finally get the girl of his dreams, he began thinking about his master plan.
James Potter did everything a boy romantically interested in a girl would do, at least that's what he thought. He always sat next to her in classes, and he partnered up with her which made Sirius angry, he sat with her in the library and just watched as she was doing her homework, he walked her to her classes even when they had different ones and it meant he would be late to his.
So when the time came in October, when the Marauders’ prank was planned to happen, James was excited. He was the one who told the Ravenclaw prefect to be in that specific corridor at that time, he even paid him to be there. So when he started to chase the group and Remus suggested scattering, James paid no mind to anybody else while he grabbed (Y/N)’s hand and dragged her to the broom closet nearby.
And in that broom closet, he was finally able to confess his feelings. When (Y/N) said she reciprocated his feeling he couldn’t help himself.
But then the realisation came and James was mortified.
If he thought that the conversation with Sirius Black wasn’t going to be a big problem, he must have been an idiot. He had the girl of his dreams but he was scared to death with the thought of losing his best friend. In all of his master plan, James Potter didn’t think beyond the moment of saying ”I love you” in the broom closet. He wouldn’t dare to dream about (Y/N) reciprocating his feelings.
So now he had a problem.
(Y/N) and James dated in secret for a month while James thought about how to break the news to his best friend. (Y/N) only laughed at his imaginary scenarios because she thought her brother wouldn’t have that big of a problem.
She was right, Sirius Black grew up since they were all thirteen years old.
But James Potter was still scared.
”Padfoot,” said James looking in the direction of his best friend. Sirius was lying on the bed just like he was six years ago when they first talked about it. Remus was reading a book nearby while Peter was looking franticly for his Transfiguration essay. ”I need to talk to you”
”What’s up, Prongs? You have an idea for our next prank? Because I think (Y/N) mentioned something about invading Slytherin common room and painting it red and gold and I would love to do that”
”No, but it does concern (Y/N)”
”I'm all ears ten”
”Remember when we first talked about me having a crush on your sister when we were eleven?”
”It was you?” Shouted Peter surprised ”I literally thought it was Remus who fancied (Y/N)”
”Shut up, Wormtail. James is going to say something important. I remember. Go on, mate” Sirius tried not to smile. He knew already. (Y/N) told him but he patiently waited for his best friend to finally confess.
”And remember when you came up with that stupid rule when we were thirteen?”
”Yeah”
”And remember when I said I fancy Lily Evans then?”
”I think we all remember”
”I lied”
”I know”
”I’m madly in love with your sister, Padfoot. And I’m sorry, I really tried to get over her so as not to ruin our friendship. Merlin, I tried so hard but it’s impossible. I believe she’s the love of my life, mate. I want to make her happy, I want to be the one she smiles at, I want to tell her all the jokes just to hear her laugh, I want to marry her one day. That’s why I’m sorry, Padfoot. Because you are my best friend and I didn’t listen to you, I went behind your back, and lied to you for a month. But I'm not sorry for loving your sister. I believe (Y/N) is the one”
There was silence between the four of them for a while.
James looked as if he was about to die, Peter looked at his best friend with wide eyes, Remus tried to cover up his laugh behind a book, and Sirius… Sirius was staring at his friend without showing any emotion.
”What time is it, Wormtail?” Asked the Black heir instead.
”Um, it’s almost midnight, why?”
”And what day is it?”
”November 29th?”
”Moony, my dear, pay up”
”What?” James was surprised. He expected screaming, maybe a hex or two directed at him. But Sirius was completely calm when he grabbed a few galleons from Remus.
”You see, Prongs, I already knew. You weren’t very subtle over the years. I suspected something but you always insisted you loved Evans so I waited, patiently may I add. And finally, you broke down. I expected you would do so in our 7th year somewhere close to the end of November, Moony said that’s impossible and opted for the end of our 7th year. Prongs, I just won a bet thanks to you.”
”You’re not mad?”
”Well, you see, I would be mad if we were children. But we grew up since that time, mate. I feel weird knowing that you’re snogging my sister but as long as you’re both happy, it’s fine with me. Just don’t hurt her cause then I would be obliged to hurt you too. You know, because I’m the older brother and so on”
”I don’t intend on hurting her, Padfoot. I want to marry her”
*~*~*
Just like James Potter said, he actually did marry (Y/N) Black two years later. And Sirius gave the most hilarious best man’s speech everyone has ever heard mentioning that he always knew these two would end up together (to which Remus screamed ”NOT TRUE” so loud that Peter fell from his chair).
A year later, they all attended Sirius and Remus' wedding.
And only a few days later (Y/N) found out she was pregnant. James couldn't have been happier, and Sirius shouted something about being the best godfather on the whole planet.
When they all decorated the nursery, James could only smile. With his best friends by his side, the love of his life sleeping soundly in their shared bedroom, and the baby soon to be born, he had everything he ever dreamed of.
And all was well.
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stargirl-in-dilfspace · 2 months
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Look After You (Christmas Fic) - Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader
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[moodboard for moodboard’s sake]
Summary: It’s the first time you’ve had Frankie home for the entire month of December, and you have some exciting news for him.
content/warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader & frankie are married, they have a daughter, girl dad frankie, classic christmas (no sad beige bullshit here), reader is pregnant, pregnancy announcement, their daughter is rambunctious & sweet, daughter is named Valentina (Val for short), Santiago appearance, alcohol mention (santi and frank have a beer lol), these two are so sweet you wanna throw up [2k-ish words]
a/n: okay first fic on tumblr, this feels weird. and yeah it’s wayyyy too early for Christmas but i hate that it’s snowing where i am and im pretending im happy about it (aka writing fics about Christmas) let me know what you think!!! <3
Christmas had stopped being a time to relax a long time ago. Even more so once you had your daughter. And your husband. But, Frankie was plenty of help, this evening, among many others, he’d offered to completely take over the bedtime duties for Valentina, that you normally split 50/50, so you could have some time to yourself, which you opted to wrap gifts.
It was the 23rd, and the wrapping was a little late admittedly. He’d offered everything under the sun, a hot bath, a home cooked meal, etc. You’d chosen to wrap gifts. This was the first year you got to spend the entire month with him. And Val was three. You settled down on your bed, with a bunch of gift bags, wrapping paper and a few bows. The gifts you planned for your daughter on your left, and a few for your husband on the right.
By 7 o’clock, you’d wrapped everything. Gift tags were what you had left. In your hand writing, you started to write your first name. On your daughter’s gift. You silently laughed at yourself, trying again, with a different tag, addressing it to Val, from Mama.
You’d never get used to it in the best of ways.
You smiled at the tag, feeling stupid. Stupidly happy. The amount of joy that children got out of Christmas, would last forever, and seeing the joy from your daughter made all the work worth it.
Then you got down to your husband’s little stack. A few useful items he’d asked for, a book he’d wanted, and a framed photo of the two of you. One from the day you told him you were pregnant with Val. Taken on a digital camera, he’s smiling wide, genuinely, while you press a kiss to his cheek. He had been trying to find time to get all the photos printed off the camera and frame some, specifically that one to put on his nightstand. You wrapped that last.
Cause that wasn’t the only part of the gift. You had a letter, and more importantly, a pregnancy test.
A positive pregnancy test.
You looked at it for a moment, you only found out a few days ago, and decided you’d surprise him on Christmas Eve, with the photo.
A swift knock was put on the bedroom door, to which you hid everything at your side, throwing your sweater over it. “Francisco Morales if you walk in here you may not live to see Christmas Day.” You call out, in a joking tone, as the door cracked open.
“Hey there, Mrs. Catfish.” You place the voice immediately. Santiago. “Heard you were wrapping gifts in here?”
“Yeah, you’re safe.” You chuckle lightly, standing up off the bed to hug him as he stepped in to greet you. “What’re you doing here?” You wrap your arms around him with a smile on your face.
“Holy…shit.” You furrow your brows, hearing his tone as you pull back, following his gaze. Fuck. “Looks like it’s Mama Fish of two.” He chuckled, looking back at you with a smile before you shushed him quickly.
He got a kick out of the nickname he’d come up with when he’d found out about Val.
“Yeah, looks like it.” You smile, the reality kicking in a little. “Frankie’s supposed to find out Christmas Eve so keep it zipped.” He chuckles again, taking it to heart.
“How far along?” He asks as you made an effort to finish putting everything neatly into its little box, and labeling it with his name.
“Four weeks. Only found out on the 19th.” You say quietly, stuffing presents into the closet, behind some storage boxes, stacking a few spare blankets over it for good measure.
“Damn.”
“Don’t even do the math, Santiago.” You warn with a fake scowl.
“Guess me taking Val for the weekend paid off.” He jokes as you shoot him a look, opening the door and leading him back out into the hall to the living room to find Frankie.
The Christmas lights on the tree were plugged in, blues, red, purples, oranges, greens, yellows…you’d refused to give in to the sad beige trends, you wanted your daughter to have the Christmas you did. Full of life and color, and strange ornaments with memories and crafts and photos. Frankie was in the kitchen in the fridge, digging for drinks.
“You found her?” He calls to Santi, to which he replies with a simple “yep.” “Either of you want a beer?” He asks, Santi gave you a look to which you held up a finger in warning.
“No, honey, just water for me.” You reply, and he came into the living room a few moments later, two beers and a water. You thanked him and smiled, sitting down next to him on the couch while Santiago sat in one of your armchairs.
You spent the rest of the evening talking, catching up and laughing. Your daughter slept like a rock, and eventually you checked on her, making sure she actually was asleep. She was the spitting image of both of you, snoring softly. Your pride and joy, you never thought any man would ever make you feel safe and loved enough to have a child, a home.
The last two weeks, you’d been watching Christmas movies with Val and Frankie, curled up on the couch, as she got all excited about Christmas, and winter, and presents.
Last night, she’d begged to make cookies she’d found in an old cookbook of yours. Gingerbread cookies the three of you decorated to look like each other, accompanying the little house she decorated. She passed out from a sugar high on the couch between you and Frankie at only 6 in the evening. A miracle, for a girl like her. He’d talked to you about how much he loved the two of you, quietly playing with your hair, for almost an hour before you both fell asleep.
By the time Santiago left, you both were tired, like average toddler parents were. You drag a blanket from the back of the couch, pulling it up and over the two of you, curling up with him for a minute.
“Good day?” Frankie asks, like clockwork each night he wanted to hear what you had to say. His eyes reflect the Christmas lights, and somehow every ounce of admiration and love he held for you.
“Good day. Got all the presents wrapped.”
“I’m glad, all ready for Christmas?” He rubbs your arm, pulling you closer.
“Very. You?” You look up at him, hand finding his soft brown curls, you see him wear more frequently now. Standard Oil practically owned his head of hair until you came along and convinced him the curls and little grays were perfect to you.
“I think so. Wrapped your gifts last week.” He grins down at you, hand falling at your waist, fingertips grazing your back and pulling you just a bit closer. You smile at him, God, you love him. His eyes shine a little more in the light of the tree, pulling you up to kiss him sweetly, your hand pressed gently to the side of his face.
“I love you.” You murmur, reaching just a bit farther up to press a kiss to the tip his nose, one of many things you adore about him.
“I love you, hun.” He kisses your cheek in return, letting you rest on his shoulder, just against his neck. You play with the hem of his shirt, yawning slightly. “How’s a hot shower and bed sound?” He asks with a slight chuckle, you can feel it deep in his chest, with his heartbeat. The one he knows beats just for you.
By the next evening, dinner is served, chicken (considering your daughter won’t touch turkey), mashed potatoes (her favorite), and green beans (cause somebody needed her greens.)
“Mama, do we get to open presents tonight?” Your daughter asks, her spoon spinning around in her potatoes.
“Only one, since Santa hasn’t come yet, sweetheart.” You grin, watching her take another bite, smiling at you and Frankie.
“Do you think I’ll be able to hear the reindeer? When he’s on the roof? Cause I can’t see Santa?” Val asks, pulling her hair out of the little ponytail done by Frankie from earlier when she’d “helped” him outside shovel the snow on the sidewalk, messy from her little hat.
“I don’t know about that…but I heard Santa has been leaving behind something extra special if we leave him some milk and cookies tonight.” Frankie smiles, explaining to his daughter what she could expect if she tried to stay in her bed and sleep.
“Hmm…I think we should get to bed soon, Val cause Uncle Santi called before dinner and told me Santa had already come to his house.” You hum like it's nothing, and your daughter shoots up, finishing the remainder of her plate, and Frankie smiles at you.
“Can we go get my pjs? And brush my teeth? I wanna go to bed!” Val forgets she could even have one present tonight.
She takes Frankie’s hand, tugging it a little, watching you for approval. She drags both of you, through her bedtime routine like you usually have to do for her. You kiss her goodnight, and tell her Christmas will be there the sooner she goes to sleep, and that you love her. You lean on the doorframe, watching Frankie talk to her, telling her goodnight and that he loves her.
Your hand finds your abdomen without really thinking. Jesus Christ do you love him, and God are you glad to be the one having his children.
You quickly tuck both hands in the pockets of your jeans as he turns to you, walking out with you. He takes your hand, leading you back to the living room.
“I’ve got something for you.” You say softly, he presses a kiss to your head. You reach under the couch, as you’d hidden it earlier in the day, and he chuckles a little. You hand him the box and settle with your legs over his lap, he brushes your knees with his free hand. He looks at you to see if it’s okay to open, his hands making the box look much smaller than it was. You nod, encouraging him a little, a small smile on your lips.
He shakes off the top, pushing back the wrapping and looking at you, a large grin on his face, taking up the photo frame, setting the box beside him. He pulls you in tightly, still holding the framed photo. “I’ve been meaning to do this, this is amazing, thank you-”
“Frankie, I’d take another look in the box before you thank me, honey.” You joke slightly, he lets go of you, giving you a confused look, taking the box back up, taking back some more of the wrapping, he looks back up at you, his eyes wide, and you don’t even know how his smile got better. He wraps you up in his arms again, pulling you up to hold you as close as he can.
You’re every good piece of him, you’re the one thing he could ever dream to have.
“We’re having another baby!” He’s impossibly happy, excited and holding you tight, kissing you repeatedly before you can even say another word. “I’m a dad, again…” He lets you go a little to look at you, glancing down at your stomach, and back to your eyes. “Thank you…”
Those big, brown eyes and that smile, that got you here in the first place.
You’re smiling, blushing with how excited he is. He pulls you back in, once again, elated, with little tears at the corner of his eye, holding you close. The only place he wants to be.
“I- I’m only four weeks. Only found out a few days ago, just wanted to surprise you.” You stumble over your words, and he kisses the side of your face, still holding you but loose, so you could breathe, and he could look at you.
“It’s amazing. It’s more than amazing, it’s the best fucking Christmas gift.” He grins at you, hands rubbing your arms up and down as if to warm you. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Francisco.” You just about melt into his arms, his comfort the same as a blanket while it snowed outside.
He made you happier than you could’ve ever believed you deserved, let alone believed you would find. And yet, he reminded you somehow everyday of how much he didn’t deserve you.
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jishyucks · 5 months
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Happy Holidays! The Universe Hates Me. — hrj
‣ pairing: huang renjun x reader
‣ genre: fluff, academic-rivals-to-(implied)lovers, forced proximity, kinda slice-of-life
‣ wc: 3.7k
‣ summary: You don’t hate many things, but you could proudly say that you hate snow and Huang Renjun. And now that the universe has decided that it was a great idea to have you snowed in with the smartass himself, you’ll gladly add the universe to that list.
‣ warnings: slightly one-sided rivalry (more so Renjun’s developed feelings before reader so he’s acting on it before reader even gets what they’re feeling), the pair eat some cup ramen, set in that weird period where they dk how they feel
‣ an: I rly thought this was going to be easy to write but sike (⊙_⊙) ig its bc its basically e2l and these r difficult to write,, I was excited to write Renjun's but idk if I did my own idea justice,, anyways I hope it's still a fun read!
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You’ve never been so nervous for a final in your life.
Sure, you didn’t find the content difficult, nor did you feel lost. Hell, if you were asked to explain the content with no aids, you can confidently do it. 
The only reason why you were so nervous for a damn final was because you knew that Huang Renjun was going to do better than you. Why? You’re not sure. But you had this gut feeling that his name was going to be listed right above yours on that stupid list and you were not going to let that happen. 
“You need to go home soon, okay?” Karina frowns. She’s all bundled up, a scarf tightly wrapped over her face to shield her from Jack Frost. She knows how much of a workaholic you were, especially when it came to Renjun, “It’s getting late. It’s already dark out and there’s no one else here. Text me when you get home.”
You nod, “I will, I promise. I’ll just finish this last lesson and then I’ll leave. I’m hungry, anyway.” 
Her stern expression softens underneath her scarf and she teasingly ruffles your hair, “Talk to you later, honeybun.” 
You wave and watch her leave before turning back to the scattered papers in front of you, your laptop burning holes in your eyes because you’ve been staring at it for way longer than a physician’s recommendation. The final was on physics, something that wasn’t your strongest suit. It was probably because the way your teachers decided to word the questions on exams screwed you over—but then again, you couldn’t blame your struggles on that. 
Maybe you did just suck at physics. 
Your eyes scanned the lesson you were currently studying, quietly reading it under your breath so that you could process the information—critical threshold… velocity… laminar to turbulent… fluid and momentum… the dissipation of energy…
“Ughhhh!” 
Your heart drops to your stomach, eyes almost slipping out of their sockets at the sound of another person groaning. You clearly remember Karina just saying that there wasn’t anyone else here. 
Then who in the actual fuck…
Your mind jumps to conclusions and thinks up the worst-case scenario. It could be a ghost… were you Scrooge and the ghosts here to visit you? No fucking way… you loved Christmas… Or it could be a murderer. But what kind of murderer groans before he reaches his target?
Using this as an excuse to procrastinate, you quietly push your chair away from the table and stand up. You can recall that the groaning echoed from the back of the library, so you begin making your way down to the back of the room. Your attempt to keep your footsteps quiet, barely lifting them off from the ground.
You guess you were making your way in the correct direction because now you can hear the sound of muffled music. You suppose it was coming out of the other person’s headphones. 
As you approach the end of one of the aisles of books, you bend over and peek through the cracks between the books. Your eyes betray you, not focusing on the figure sitting at one of the tables because the books are in the way. Leaning closer, you squint to get a better look at the figure studying, head bopping to the music blaring through their headphones. 
Who is that?
When your eyes finally adjust, you curse under your breath.
Personally, you would rather it be a murderer on the other side of the shelf. 
Because Huang Renjun of all people? Here? With you? Did the universe hate you or something?
You let out a faint groan, squeezing your eyes before you go to turn back to your table. 
Of course, Huang Renjun would be here and studying late. There’s a small tiny part of you that wasn’t even surprised that Renjun was the only other person at school at this hour. There was a reason why you felt like he was seriously going to do better than you on this physics final. He worked for it despite being naturally intelligent. 
“Fucking Huang Renjun,” you gently let your forehead fall forward, making a gentle thud against the table. Fucking Huang Renjun because, suddenly, you no longer feel hungry and you now desperately wanted to finish a week’s worth of content before leaving. Sure the idea was immature—doing all this for some guy who thought he was smarter than everyone else—but you couldn’t help it. This was how it’s been since junior high. 
And old habits die hard, right?
For the next 2 hours, you push yourself to study for the stupid final, eyes straining as you continuously shift them between your laptop screen and your papers. And you say push yourself because now that you had the knowledge that Renjun was sitting metres away from you, you somehow could not focus for the life of you. It was like he had cast some spell on you to do anything but focus on physics. 
You groan. You have been reading the same paragraph on boundary layers for the past ten minutes, hyper-aware of Renjun. The words blur together, and you become hyper-aware of Renjun's presence nearby. Despite your efforts, your mind wanders, and occasional stolen glances in his direction betray your attempts at concentration.
With an irritated sigh, you shake your head, attempting to bring yourself back to the task at hand. Why the fuck is Renjun occupying so much of your headspace?
Feeling defeated, you reach forward, roughly shutting your laptop closed before you begin bunching your papers up together. Not a single fibre in your body even cared if it was organized or not—that was for you to worry about later—because you just wanted out of here and away from Renjun before he completely plagues your mind. 
Finally, you throw your bag over your shoulder and begin making your way out of the library. 
Meanwhile, Renjun, who was managing well with his work catches sight of your figure leaving, winter coat zipped up to your nose. 
“Wait, Y/N!” 
You turn back to find Renjun pushing his seat back, getting up to make his way towards you. 
“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. You continue making your way out of the room, ignoring Renjun’s calls for you to stop. 
The mature response would be to, well, stop and listen, but after Renjun just indirectly wasted 2 hours of your life trying to absorb some information on physics, you didn’t want anything to do with him. You just wanted to go home and eat, before you pull another all-nighter to make up for the lost time. 
“Y/N!” 
You were jogging now, treating the situation like Renjun was some kind of monster coming after you. It was odd that Renjun was keeping up with you, tailing you like he was one of those salesmen trying to get you to try a sample of their product. 
You’re relieved when you see the front doors of the school ahead of you, streetlights illuminating through the small half-windows. You feel your feet pick up its pace, eager to finally get out of the building and get fresh air. 
“Y/N!” Renjun’s out of breath, “You can’t leave!” He reaches out and quickly grabs your wrist. The contact causes shivers to run up your arm and you’re quick to pull your limb back. 
Brows furrowed, you sent him daggers through your glare, “And why not?” 
Renjun fishes his phone out from his hoodie pocket and he holds it up despite you not being close enough to see anything on it, “The news. All the roads are closed. No cars on the roads. We’re stuck in here until they say everything’s clear.” 
“You’re lying.” Your stubborn ass refuses to believe Renjun. 
Renjun huffs, “Just check it for your fucking self if you don’t want to believe me.” His arms crossed and he pushes all his weight onto one leg. 
Reluctant to look stupid, you slowly pull your own phone out. You realize that you actually haven’t looked at any notifications lately, all your focus directed toward studying. When you finally look at your phone, you’re met with tens of notifications, both from the news app and a handful from your family members and friends, mainly Karina, who are asking if you’re going home soon or if you’ve gone home because of the news the city sent out about the roads. 
“And why didn’t you leave?” you say awkwardly, “When they sent the warnings out?” 
Renjun swallows his spit, “I didn’t see any of them either. I was too caught up with studying.” 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you mutter. The realization of the situation starts to sink in—you're trapped at school, possibly overnight, and your only company is Huang Renjun, the boy who’s decided to make himself the bane of your existence. Then, you find yourself teetering between relief that you're not alone and frustration that you're stuck with Huang Renjun of all people.
Your eyes flicker at Renjun, who’s waiting for you to say something to him. And you do, “This is all your fault!”
Renjun’s mouth falls open slightly, the space in between his eyebrows wrinkling at your accusation, “How the hell is this my fault? I didn’t tell the damn city to close the roads!” Renjun holds himself back from raising his voice, but the emptiness of the halls causes it to bounce off the walls. 
“If I hadn’t seen you studying and being the overachiever you are, I would have gone home earlier,” you argue back. The second it slips from your lips, you realize how stupid you actually sound—but you don’t say anything. Without saying another word, you push past Renjun intending to return your spot in the library. 
Renjun, however, isn't one to let things slide. He follows you back into the library, his frustration evident in the tight set of his jaw. "So, it's my fault you chose to stay? That you didn’t see the notifications?” 
You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, not slowing your pace. "I chose to stay because of you! Trying too hard being a model student." 
Despite it being pretty clear that the argument was childish and that it was going nowhere, you and Renjun were far too stubborn to back down. 
Renjun scoffs, catching up to you. "Trying too hard!? I study because I take my education seriously. Maybe if you put in half the effort I do, you wouldn't be lagging behind."
"Oh, spare me, Renjun.” Your blood boils at his condescending tone, whirling around to face him and eyes ablaze with frustration. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
This is where you can see Renjun physically falter. The stress in his brows goes slack and there’s a shift in his expression, “Insufferable? Y/N I—”
"Whatever, Renjun. I really don’t want to speak to you right now.” You roll your eyes and turn your back on him, “Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have a fucking final to study for.”
Ignoring his attempts to keep the conversation alive, you make your way back to your table, your anger simmering in your chest. Renjun watches you go, a mixture of annoyance and something else in his eyes.
The library becomes a battleground of silent tension, each of you (mostly you) seething in your own space.
You set your table back up the way it previously was. Then, you quickly send your friends and family texts explaining what had happened and why you weren’t home by now. 
You attempt to start where you left off, the words Boundary Layers practically taunting you at this point. The phrase is pissing you off and you’ve read it enough times for you to be able to recite the sentence from the textbook perfectly. 
Wave interference, you read, eyes blinking at the screen—something about paths intersecting and creating new patterns of unity… discord… 
You let your eyes do the rest of the scanning, not exactly absorbing any of the material before you move on. At this point, you feel like not studying entirely. Besides, you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind to be absorbing material. 
The clock at the front of the library reads 8:28 and you feel like taking a nap is the best idea right now. It’ll help you cool off, pull you back in the right headspace and perhaps help you with the all-nighter you’ll probably pull tonight. 
Twisting your body, you pull your jacket off of your chair, folding it to create a makeshift pillow. Sliding your things aside, you place the pillow in front of you and shimmy your butt back against the chair before leaning forward to rest your head against it. In all honesty, it wasn’t the most comfortable place to rest your head, but it will have to do for now. 
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
The shuffling of feet and the clattering of objects woke you from your nap.
You don’t move, nor do you open your eyes, all you do is listen to try and figure out what the hell is going on. Through the fabric of your jacket, you can hear that Renjun is moving things around on your table and you can’t help but feel your anger shoot up. 
You keep your cool on the outside, pretending to stir in your sleep before you peek through half-opened eyelids. 
You’d honestly find this part funny if you were watching a drama. But the thing was, you weren’t watching a drama. And it was anything but funny. 
Slowly, you raise your head to get a better look at what Renjun was up to, fully expecting him to be messing with your belongings. You guess you were doing your job correctly because Renjun seems to not have noticed you looking at him. 
The scene (you embarrassingly admit) warms a piece of your heart just by a little bit—and you hate that it does.
Renjun’s trying to keep your papers organized, stacking them horizontally and then vertically to keep them grouped in the stacks you already had them in. He had even moved your laptop to a safer spot, off to the side. 
The reason why he was doing all this was sitting just across the table from you and to Renjun’s left. 
Two cups of instant ramen.
“What are you doing?'' Your voice comes out more hoarse than you’d like, but it was probably because you’ve been napping for what felt like an hour or two. 
Renjun freezes, lips parting slightly and eyes growing two times its size when he realizes that you’re awake. Sure, he would have had to wake you up sooner or later, but you waking up on your own wasn’t part of his plan. He should’ve done all this a bit quieter. 
“I…” He starts. Renjun gulps and pulls back, wringing his hands through sweater paws. 
You wait for him to give you a coherent reply, looking at him in hopes of forcing one out of him. 
Renjun’s at a loss for words, afraid that you wouldn’t quite get him if he explained his reasoning. He leans over and wraps his hand around one of the noodle cups, gently sliding it toward you. 
You blink at the steaming cup in front of you, caught between annoyance and a peculiar sense of gratitude. "Are you trying to make this situation bearable or something?" 
“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if only I was able to eat, would it?” Renjun shrugs. From his hoodie pocket, Renjun pulls out a plastic fork wrapped in tissue, one he had probably taken from the cafeteria, and places it next to your cup of noodles, “Eat.” 
You blink at the noodles and eye the boy suspiciously, “You didn’t do anything to it, did you?” You mistrustfully pull the fork toward you, unwrapping it before you dip it into the soup. 
“Of course not… I’m not evil.” A scoff shoots out through Renjun’s nose. 
Renjun pulls out a chair from your table, taking a seat before pulling his own cup of noodles toward him. 
Your eyes linger on Renjun for a moment longer, contemplating whether or not you should believe him. Eventually, hunger wins over skepticism, and you take a cautious bite of the noodles. They taste surprisingly good, given the circumstances. 
For a while, there's a strange quiet as both of you focus on your meal. The only sounds are the occasional slurps and the storm outside rattling the windows. It's a bizarre scene, you and Renjun sharing instant ramen in the middle of the night, trapped at school. Who would have thought? 
As you dig into your food, you start feeling a shift in your mood. The annoyance from being woken up slowly turns into a grudging acknowledgement that Renjun tried to make things a bit less crappy. It's kind of funny when you think about it. You two had a small argument earlier, and now here you are, quietly sharing a meal. It's like an unspoken agreement, maybe a truce, even if neither of you is ready to admit it out loud.
Meanwhile, Renjun seems engrossed in his noodles, occasionally glancing in your direction as if gauging your reaction to the impromptu meal. He looks like he wants to say something, but he’s not choosing to do so despite the tension that is usually present in your interactions being strangely minimal. 
Finally, you break the silence. "Where did you get the noodles?"
He looks at you, brows raising at your willingness to start a conversation. "It’s not my first time staying past dinner. I have a stash in my locker."
“Not surprised,” you mumble. You pick the cup up and bring the rim up to your lips. Tipping your head back, you take sips of the soup, feeling the warmth of the fluids fall into your stomach like a hug. 
“Oh, shut up,” Renjun groans, “Or else I’ll take the noodles back.”
“Lucky for me,” you look at him and laugh, “I’m finished.” When you plop the fork back into the cup, it makes that noise you hear when you scratch the cardboard. 
Renjun hums. "Well then, I guess you owe me one. After all, you're enjoying the hospitality of my secret noodle stash." 
You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance, but there's a glint of amusement in your eyes. Of course, Renjun would take this opportunity to gain something for himself. It was such a Renjun move. It’s always been like this. "I could've survived just fine without your instant noodles."
He chuckles, taking the last slurp of his own noodles before he deems himself finished, too. "And yet, you still ate it all up like a starved puppy.” 
There’s a beat of silence before you lean forward, resting your head on your propped arm, “I guess I should say thank you, huh?” 
Renjun grins and you only notice it because it’s more evident in his eyes than it was on his lips. He was seemingly pleased with your acknowledgment, but he quickly covered it up with a nonchalant shrug, "Don't mention it.” His voice comes out soft, mirroring the setting, “If you passed out from hunger under my watch, wouldn’t want that tainting my ‘model student’ image.”
You give him a side-eye, feeling the sudden need to tease him, “Don’t lie, Huang Renjun, you secretly care about me.” The statement was mostly a joke, so you think nothing of it. You stack your empty cup onto Renjun’s and stand up to throw it out. You don’t notice the way Renjun freezes in his seat for half a second.
“And what if I did?” Renjun shrugs. He gulps and feels the sudden need to flee the situation—Why did he say that? 
You turn to face him, surprised by his response. Renjun's casual demeanour, though slightly defensive, holds a hint of genuineness. It's a side of him you're not used to seeing, and it catches you off guard. 
"What if you did what?" you ask, feigning ignorance to see if Renjun would elaborate. A part of you is afraid of what he’s going to say. 
“What if I did care about you?” Renjun’s playing with the corner of one of your papers, creating a sound that fills the silence between the two of you, “I don’t hate you as a person, you know… I get that we always compete in grades and extracurriculars but… I don’t hate you as a person.” 
The confession makes your heart skip a beat and you catch yourself beginning to chew on your bottom lip, something you do when you’re nervous. The unexpected sincerity in his words causes you to halt your own, a momentary pause in your banter. You've grown used to the constant back-and-forth, the verbal sparring that characterizes your interactions with Renjun. This, however, feels different. 
"You're messing with me, right?" you reply, half expecting him to smirk and dismiss the entire conversation as a joke.
“What do you think?” Renjun retorts. 
You take a moment to think everything through. You have a good feeling Renjun’s not joking, that he really doesn’t hate you as a person, and you can’t help but think about the other possibilities of what this meant. Then you think about how you feel towards Renjun because you guess you at least owed him that. 
“You don’t need to say anything now,” Renjun assures, “It’s… confusing. Even I'm still figuring things out… I just know that I don’t hate you.” 
"You're not as insufferable as I claim you are,” you begin cautiously, “But it pisses me off that you both distract and motivate me when it comes to school.” And this was true. Today was a good example of that, though you weren’t entirely sure where these stem from. 
Renjun raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. "I'll take that as a compliment.” 
You roll your eyes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Renjun. I’m just saying—” “—Saying that you like me more than you think you do?” Renjun interrupts, “I know, I know.”
Your eyes narrow at Renjun, “You wish.” 
A moment of understanding passes between you, and for the first time, the competitiveness in your dynamic softens. It's not yet a friendship, but it's a recognition that there's more to each other than the constant rivalry. 
Renjun laughs, which transitions into a yawn. He acknowledges your comment with a hum, “I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up in a bit so I can study?”
You playfully roll your eyes, a small smile lingering on your lips. 
“Well it wouldn’t be fair competition if I didn’t, would it?”
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tags: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi
an: the next few parts of the series might be posted a day late (until Felix,, but we'll see!). Next up is Jisung which I feel like will be ADORABLE. ty for taking the time to read! I would love to hear your thoughts even if its something short! hope you enjoyed it!
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admiringlove · 9 months
Text
[18:41]
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"i'm sick of you," you give kuroo a side-eye, a pout on your lips as the two of you walk out of the university library. he chuckles as he gives you a nudge, teasingly speaking in a sing-song voice, "no, you aren't."
you roll your eyes, pulling your coat in and trying to keep yourself warm. it was snowing—christmas nearing as assignments piled up from almost all your classes. since kuroo was a "friend" from school(more of an acquaintance, really), the two of you would study in the library together from time-to-time. soon, these "sessions" as he'd call it, went from being held once a week to every other day.
you can't say that you didn't enjoy his company. in fact, he was really, really—what's the word for someone who you want to get closer to? someone who you think is amazing in everything they do, even if they're horribly failing. that was kuroo to you. it was as if you looked up to him, even though he was just as capable as you. he was just so unreachable.
he looked at you as you walked alongside him, trying to keep yourself warm and failing. kuroo rolls his eyes as you pull out your phone, texting a friend.
"c'mere," his voice rings out as he extends his long coat for you. you look at him with a raised brow, as if silently judging him to his face. but he lets out an exasperated sigh and pulls you toward him, and wraps you around his coat.
"this is highly dysfunctional," you note, watching him fail to keep the coat around you. he looks annoyed, and retorts with, "yeah, because you're supposed to hold my freaking coat close to you. but you won't do that because you're dumb."
"did you just call me dumb? after i helped you with economics?" you say, again putting up your judgy face. he looks at you with an accusing gaze as he says, "i helped you in chemistry. i'll leave you to guess which subject is significantly harder than the other."
kuroo gives up on wrapping you with him, and simply holds you close. you think to yourself about how nice this is—him holding you like this feels way nicer than it should. his warmth radiating to you feels like an embrace that protects you from the harsh cold.
and then it clicks, the word for what you think about kuroo tetsurō is infatuation. or crush. or love, maybe. you don't know yet. and this train of thought is making you blush like a child having their first crush.
"are you embarrassed or something?" the rooster head asks. you look up, blinking against him as you shake away from your thoughts, "what?"
"you were blushing. or you were embarrassed. i couldn't exactly tell," he points at your face for a millisecond.
you shake your head as you laugh, "no, that wasn't related to you. i just feel a little cold."
he hums as the two of you reach your dormitory building, and you walk towards the door. but you stop right before entering and turn around. and kuroo's eyes are wide. you don't do this—you always just walk inside and then wave him goodbye before running up the stairs. you never turn around. how is he supposed to think weirdly romantic thoughts about you with you facing him?
"ku- tetsurō," you pause, meeting his gaze. he smirks, "heh? first name? what did i do now?"
"nothing," you fume, "shut up. i wanted to ask you something."
"i'm listening."
"do you... wanna get coffee sometime?" you say, doing weird gestures with your hand that kuroo's noticed you do whenever you're nervous. he's taken aback—wait, are you asking him out on a date? and you're nervous? what's happening?
"like.. like as a date?" he raises an eyebrow. you nod hesitantly, seeming unsure of yourself.
"okay," he says, choosing to not poke fun at you. because you look like you might explode from the anxiety.
and then, you smile, "okay."
"okay," kuroo gives you the cheekiest grin now, and you let out a shaky breath as you laugh. your eyes meet, and soon, you're both clutching your stomachs and in a fit of giggles.
"god, i feel like we're in a john green book," you say as the laughter dies down slowly. he shakes his head, "I don't think we're quirky enough."
"you definitely are, i don't think i even know what docosahexaenoic acid is. who knows? maybe you're the main character in his next one."
"i don't know if that's an insult or a compliment," he smiles. and suddenly, you don't want this to end. you look behind you, scratching your neck slightly.
"so uh, coffee," he says, "you think the shop will be open now?"
"w-what?"
"you heard me."
"i did," you admit, looking down embarrassingly.
"go get your thick wooly coat. the thick one that you sweat in," he points back at your dorm building while smirking, "i'll wait."
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© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.
based off this request.
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georgie-weasley · 6 months
Text
Grinch Young R.L. x GN!Reader
Warnings: swearing, mentions of depression, mentions of poverty, and just disliking Christmas
Word Count: 2.8k
Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Gender Neutral Gryffindor!Reader
Summary: Christmas was quickly approaching and everyone was excited but you. As the residential Grinch you were not looking forward to the holiday but turns out Remus Lupin is a Grinch as well.
A/N: Hello all! This is my first fic back after a break and I'm really glad to be back. Thank you to everyone who is still reading my stories and I love you all. Also this was inspired by my disliking of Christmas so I projected on the reader and Remus a smidge.
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Christmas had exploded around Hogwarts. Pine trees were set up in just about every corner in every single room in the castle. Trees were taller than most of the students and covered in brightly colored baubles and tinsel and magic balls of light that changed color every minute. Garlands and wreaths covered the stone walls and the smell of gingerbread followed the students everywhere they went. The suits of armor broke out into Christmas songs and danced anytime someone passed by. The Great Hall was by far the most decorated part of Hogwarts with festive table runners, stockings hung on the fireplace, large real snowflakes on every surface enchanted to never melt, and the magical ceiling was snowing. It was horrible.
You had never been one to get into the Christmas spirit. The songs were annoying and wormed their way into your brain and never left. The decorations were everywhere and followed you around, literally while at Hogwarts. People were just insanely obsessed with Christmas and overly happy. They were happy to the point of it being creepy and fake and weird.
Possibly the worst was just how excited all of your friends seemed to be. James Potter, sunshine incarnate and your best friend, loved Christmas. He loved everything you hated about it. In fact, James had been talking about Christmas since the beginning of November and he never let you escape it.
“Happy 10th day of Christmas Y/N!” James’s bright and cheerful smile popped up between you and your book. The sudden appearance of his face made you jump, smacking him a little with your book.
“James! You absolute asshole! I’m trying to read.” You huffed and shoved him away as you tried to turn back to your book. The common room was quiet and the perfect place to read until now.
James only rolled his eyes and wedged himself into the miniscule space between you and the arm of the couch. “You know there is an entire couch open? Actually the whole common room is open but you had to sit practically on my lap?”
“Well yeah,” James chuckled as he tore the book out of your grasp and fully moved himself onto your lap. “I have to tell you what I want for Christmas! This year I want Lily Evans to date me.”
“Fat chance buddy. You’ve been wishing for that since you were 13. Give it a rest.” With one hard push, James fell off of your lap and onto the rug with a loud thud. “Besides, don’t you know you don’t get your Christmas wish if you tell it to the Grinch.”
James just looked at you with a wild smirk. “Then I suppose I’ll have to sing a song to reverse the curse!” He then burst into song, singing the Twelve Days of Christmas at the top of his lungs. You clamped your hands over your ears but nothing managed to block out the horrible sounds coming from James until the portrait opened and a figure sped by and body slammed James.
Sirius pulled James into a headlock while Peter quickly sprinted over and sat on James’s chest. “Please Prongs, we’ve talked about this. You can’t sing. Don’t ever try to do it again.” While James struggled to break free from Sirius and Peter, the fourth marauder sat in the open space next to you, his eyes already on his book.
You knew Sirius, Peter, and Remus but not like you knew James. Yes they were friends with your best friend but you never spoke to them unless it was for class or James made you. There was nothing wrong with the three of them. Actually, quite the opposite. You loved them and loved hearing stories about them but you never ran in the same circles. In fact, you didn’t see James as much as you used to either. You had grown up next door to him and as kids you two were always together. It’s not that you two aren’t friends anymore because clearly you are, you just don’t see him around as much.
James found Sirius, Remus, and Peter and never left them. You found your own friends and spent more time on your studies than James ever could. Sirius was fine and you waved to him in the halls. Peter would wave if he was with James or Sirius but not on his own. Remus never really acknowledged you. However, that never stopped you from looking at him. Since James had become friends with Remus Lupin, you were drawn to him. He was quiet just about all of the time but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sassy. You heard the way he would call out James and it was cutthroat. He was tall and handsome and rather mysterious in a way. Not to mention he was smart and was always seen with a book.
“Hey Grinch!” James's voice came from somewhere on the floor.
“What?” You and Remus both said. At the same time, you looked away from Remus as he looked away from his book to find James. Hearing Remus, you then looked at him while he looked at you.
For only a second, no one moved or spoke until James broke the silence. “Right, sorry. Forgot there’s two of ya. Moony?” Remus slowly tore his gaze away from yours to look at his friend who had continued speaking but you could hear none of it.
That was an interesting development. You had assumed James was talking to you since not only does he know about your distaste for Christmas but you called yourself Grinch not very long ago. But Remus also responded so Remus must also not be the biggest fan of Christmas. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for James to call him that or for him to respond.
The night slowly grew darker and while more and more students arrived in the common room, Remus never left the spot next to you. James, Sirius, and Peter eventually left to find some poor soul to bother but Remus remained, his nose still in his book. Honestly, it was making you a little nervous at this point. The man has hardly ever spoken to you since you were introduced back in third year. It's been three years since then and it wasn’t like you were much closer than before.
“You don’t like Christmas?” Remus mumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He sounded almost disinterested.
“Yeah, I think it’s quite dumb to be honest.” You expected him to respond, like people usually do when having a conversation but he didn’t. He just hummed a little and went back to his book. “You don’t like it either?” If he wasn’t going to continue then maybe you would just have to make him. It brought almost a sense of hope thinking about the fact that maybe someone else wasn’t enjoying the season. You didn’t want someone to wallow around with but to have someone that wasn’t going to complain about your less than thrilled outlook would be really nice.
“I don’t. Never have.” Remus didn’t even bother taking his eyes off of his book as he answered. It could have been just your imagination but you thought you could just hardly see him smile. He suddenly closed his book and stood, his arm brushing yours in the process. Remus made it to the base of the stairs before he turned back around to look at you. “Hey Grinch.” As soon as you turned and he could see your face, he smiled. “See you later.”
---
At the Gryffindor table later that week, you had once again been minding your own business when James interrupted you. He sat across from you and smirked, reaching over to poke your arm. “Happy 14th day of Christmas, Grinch Number Two.”
“How come I’m the second?” You said with a roll of your eyes before you continued eating your breakfast.
“Because Remus is number one.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well, I disagree. I knew you first.”
James hummed and shrugged. “I’ll take that into consideration. Did you talk to him after we all left?”
“Did you set that up James?” You asked with narrow eyes.
“No, I just simply called him the nickname I always give him this time of year which just so happens to be the same as yours and I assumed he would mention something about it to you after. Did he?” He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting your answer.
“Yes.” James let out a cheer at your answer, getting him some weird looks from the whole room since he was so loud. Before you could chastise him for being so loud and obnoxious, Remus sat next to you. Which was very odd since before last night, he’s never sat next to you.
Immediately, James got up and moved further down the table to bother Lily. “Are you going home for Christmas?” Remus asked as soon as James was out of earshot. “The final day to sign up to stay here is Saturday.”
“Will you be staying?” You asked.
Remus nodded. “I stay every year.” He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he evidently decided he didn’t want to say anything and kept it shut.
You could have gone home and while it would have been nice to be with family, you never actually stayed at the castle for Christmas. Now might be a good chance to do it. “I think I’ll stay. I go home every year; my family can survive without me for one year.”
He smiled and started adding food to his plate. “I’m glad you’ll be staying.” You were too busy trying to hide the blush on your cheeks to notice the blush on his.
---
As the holiday neared closer and closer, everyone got happier and happier. Well, everyone but you and Remus. While James and Sirius, who were also staying at Hogwarts, were planning a Christmas party and singing songs, you and Remus bonded over the opposite.
His least favorite song was We Wish You a Merry Christmas, he thought Santa was beyond creepy, and he found the smell of pine to be overpowering. You sat together at meals and laughed at people who were wearing festive outfits. He made you smile as he made faces behind peoples’ backs as they gushed over holiday traditions. On more than one occasion, he shoved James into a pile of snow when he was being too cheery. Remus Lupin was bringing you a lot of joy this season and you were not the only one to notice it.
James made it a point to tell you that this was the happiest he had ever seen both of you around this time of year. In fact, it almost looked like you were enjoying Christmas. You had scoffed at that and then proceeded to shove him into some snow but he did have a point. Remus was making you really happy and it's hard to be a grinch when you’re happy.
But it was nice being happy around the holiday and it was even nicer that Remus was the one making you so happy. You always found him attractive and you knew he was smart and funny but now you got to know just how sweet he was. Yes, he was poking fun at other people but he was doing it purely for your entertainment. He admitted one night after you two had made fun of a particularly ugly Christmas sweater that he never does this; he just liked hearing you laugh. Which made your insides turn into jelly and you couldn’t stop smiling. You also learned that he liked the same books as you and he was so passionate about reading.
He was extremely loyal to his friends and would do anything for them. He wasn’t great at expressing his feelings but he tried his best to let the people close to him know they were loved. He was brutally honest especially when it came to James and Sirius; he was always telling them how stupid they looked or when they were acting like idiots. You felt like a cliche Christmas romance movie but you were falling in love.
---
It was Christmas Eve and James had insisted all seven of the Gryffindors who had stayed needed to sleep in the common room. It was a tradition you two used to have as kids. The night before Christmas you two would sleep on the floor in the living room in front of the tree; you kept up with that tradition until you went to Hogwarts.
Of course before that, there was a party. It was nothing insane like the parties Sirius and James threw after winning a Quidditch game but it was still a party. There were snacks, drinks, games, and Christmas music, much to yours and Remus’s disappointment. You mingled for a while, which is more than Remus could say. He sat on one of the loveseats and only moved to grab more snacks. James tried to get him to play pin the nose on Rudolph but it was easy to guess how that went. While you also didn’t join in on the festive games, you stayed to watch. Sirius managed to get the nose perfectly on Rudolph which made James accuse him of cheating to which Sirius tackled him for ‘insulting his honor’. He confessed to cheating ten minutes later.
Many more games went on like that and after the fifth one, you found Remus still on the loveseat. As you approached, he moved so there would be more space for you. You sat in silence for a while before he spoke up. “Why do you hate Christmas, really?”
You had told him once you didn’t like the music and yes that’s true but it's not the only reason. “I guess I just don’t like how happy people pretend to be. There’s real genuine happiness like James but so many people aren’t happy. Life is horrible and nothing is going right but as soon as it's December, they pretend. It's ok to be unhappy during the holidays; you don’t have to pretend life is perfect just because it's Christmas.” You looked at Remus only to find him watching you. “Can I ask why you don’t like Christmas?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I never really had a good Christmas. My mom really struggled to be happy around this time of year, especially after…”
“After you became a werewolf?” His eyes grew wide and he started to shake. “No one told me,” you whispered and put a hand on his arm to calm him. “You just were always missing on the full moon and sometimes the day after. I figured it out. I don’t think of you differently.”
Remus took a minute to process the fact that you knew his deepest secret before he continued his story. “Yes, after I was bitten my mother was horribly depressed around Christmas. I think it made her remember everything and she couldn’t be happy. It also was harder for my parents to get money after since no one really wanted to be around us. I saw my parents struggle all month to save money to get me a gift. My mother especially would go without dinner just to waste money on some stupid toy. After seeing that, well it makes it hard to like Christmas.”
Your hand found his and you intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m sorry Remus.”
He shrugged a little and watched your hand as his thumb stroked yours. “It isn’t your fault. Actually, you’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He smiled and looked up at you, his cheeks a dusty rose.
“You’ve made this my best Christmas as well.” It was then something bumped your head, causing you to look up. Behind the loveseat was James who had tied some mistletoe to a stick and was holding it over your head. Remus followed your gaze and sighed, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Do you want to?” Remus whispered. You knew James could hear every word you were saying despite him pretending not to listen but you didn’t really care.
“Yes.” You hardly finished the word before Remus leaned down and brought his lips to yours. Immediately your arms wrapped around his neck and brought him closer if it was even possible. His hands found your waist, lips moving against yours in perfect sync. Unfortunately, the kiss had to end so you could breathe.
Remus nudged your nose with his. “Now it’s the best Christmas ever.”
Taglist
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—just for one day
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SUMMARY | schlatt really isn't one for this sappy shit. but on this particular day, just for you, he'll make an exception
PAIRING | jschlatt x reader
REQUESTED | no. but this was a gift for a mutual of mine!
WORD COUNT | 1.4k+
WARNINGS | none!
AUTHORS NOTES | happy valentines day you guys :]
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If there was one thing you knew, it was that your best friend was shit at planning things.
Schlatt was always one for the more blunt approaches. He always had been. Preferring to just get things done instead of dancing around it. He claimed it was part of the reason he was such a man, but you knew it was also because he new next to butt fuck nothing about mushy stuff.
For instance, last Christmas? Instead of something like a nice sweater or some books, he had gotten you a fake glock to match the one he kept on his desk all the time. The thing hadn't even been wrapped. Simply being thrown onto your lap with in blur of black as Schlatt stood over you from your spot on the floor surrounded by a smattering of wrapping paper, looking at you awkwardly.
You still had the heavy bastard, actually. Resting in one of the drawers of your bedside table. Right next to a pair of fuzzy socks and some markers you had bought but never used.
It was just one of the many things that happened to remind you of the person that had gotten it for you. Not just the stupid mutton chops and his weird Pope Francis cardboard cutout. But rather the guy who would watch you pretend to shoot him with your christmas present while laughing, softly grinning at you as you continued to amuse yourself.
In all your time knowing Schlatt, he had come to be known as the very epitome of someone who spoke before they thought. A brash, loud, fucking whirlwind of a man that did as he pleased—finding time to cuddle with his orange cat in secret somewhere inbetween all that.
And belive it or not, you had come to love him because of it. All of him. Even the parts that didn't know how to give good gifts because he was afraid he'd fuck it up.
Which is why valentines day had been such a surprise to you.
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"Why are you holding a blindfold?"
You brows furrowed in confusion as your attention diverted from the droning t.v in front of you to the new member in the room. Who, in fact, was holding a white strip of fabric.
Admittedly, as soon as those words left your mouth, you realized how it sounded. You watched the man across from you quirk his lips into a smile—amused with your choice of words.
"Kinky. But it's not a blindfold." Schlatt grinned. He was standing across from your resting form on the couch, one hand in pocket while the other clutched the aforementioned item.
"I wouldn't exactly call a cut up scarf a blindfold anyways." He shook the process of fabric in his hands for extra emphasis, still grinning at you with amusment.
"Alright then." You sat up straighter, back aching in protest at the movement. "So why are you holding a "not a blindfold" blindfold?" Your air quotes and sardonic grin were met with an eyeroll as you smiled playfully.
"Becuase." Schlatt grumbled. "Today's supposed to be a special day for people and friends or whatever."
You waited with a quirked eyebrow for him to finish, having a feeling that wasn't all.
"And?"
He glared at you, although no real malice was behind it. You just smiled.
"And Ted might have told me he would fly out here and beat my ass if I didn't do something for you today."
"Yeah that sounds about right." You snickered, earning you a punch to the shoulder as Schlatt scoffed.
"Listen bud I'm trying to do something nice for you. I even took the time to google how to do this shit." Schlatt shook his head in false disappointment as you laughed. "The least you could do is put the blindfold on."
"Alright, alright." You stood up from your spot on the couch, plucking the blindfold from his hands as you tied it on. "I just hope whatever you've got planned for me isn't an execution squad, because that's what it feels like."
"Well fuck." You heard him snicker as you momentarily struggled to tie a knot. "There go's my plan for the day."
"If I could see where you were right now, I'd punch you."
"Sure you would toots."
Your neck warmed in the slightest when the next sensation you felt was the gentle touch of Schlatts hand at your lower back; presumably to guide you into whatever he had planned. You just hoped he wouldn't notice the way you blanched for a minute, opting to cover it off with a roll of your shoulders, as if sore from sitting down for so long.
"Lead the way, big guy."
Nothing was said for the next few moments. The only noises as you walked in whatever direction his hand guided you was the occasional sound of your joints popping, (damn you felt old hearing that) or Jambo meowing as he rubbed up against your leg.
"Okay. Stop. Hey. Stop. No dont—"
The very distinct feeling of a wall hitting your face sent you stumbling backward slightly, rubbing your head with a hiss where it had been the hardest. The action resulted in Schlatts hand drawing away from your back. It left a considerable feeling of cold lingering behind, which made your heart falter for a moment.
"Thanks for the heads up dude." You groaned to the very man who was, probably, behind you. You couldn't tell. The makeshift blindfold was doing a really good job at obstructing your vision for some reason.
"Hey, I tried to fucking warn you dumbass. Did you go deaf or something?" He rolled his eyes, which you couldn't see. "Now, could you hold still for a second."
Any snippy comeback you were going to respond with died in your throat as Schlatt squeezed past you, hands momentarily skimming over your waist to keep himself steady.
"Alright, now, take off the fucken blindfold."
You didn't know what you expected to see when you took it off, but it certainly wasn't this.
It was all you could do to not fall to the ground with laughter upon seeing Schlatt, the absolute skyscraper of a man, struggling under the weight of a giant bag of beef jerky bigger than the size of your right leg.
"Holy fucking—" You wheezed as he stumbled a little, grunting and adjusting his weight. "—holy shit Schlatt. Where—where the fuck did you even find that shit!?"
"I would tell you." Schlatt strained his voice with another grunt. "But I'd like to put this shit down before I do."
You followed after him with a smile, watching as he set the ginormous bag of food down next to his bed, plopping down on said piece of furniture before looking at you with a cutious glance.
"So, uh, happy valentines day?" He scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room awkwardly as you snorted.
"What? Regretting being nice?" You teased. "Second guessing your gift?"
"Uh, maybe?"
Your joking stopped at that, taking a better look at the unsure way he was fiddling with his hands—busying them by scratching behind Jambo's ears as he laid in his lap lazily.
He really wasn't one to do things like this just because Ted told him too, or whatever other reason he had gave earlier. If you had to guess, he had probably done this on a whim. Probably scrolling through amazon late at night haphazardly adding things to his cart hoping you'd at least like it.
Or maybe he just wanted to get you a five pound bag of seasoned jerky. Who knows.
"Ah don't worry about it man." You set a hand on his shoulder, lightly punching it with a smile in hopes of cheering him up. "It's the thought that counts, or whatever. Just dont expect me to share any."
"Bitch!! I bought that for you. Do you know how much that bastard cost!?"
"Should have thought about that before getting it for me big man."
"Fuck you!" He laughed, eyes scrunched up at the corners.
"Fuck you too loser." You said, mirroring his smile with just as much enthusiasm. "And happy valentines day."
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elvispresleywife · 3 months
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Valentines Blues.
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Ok, so today is Valentines day and that means....today I miss Elvis really badly(as usual). Now I miss him everyday all the time. For some people it's creepy, and weird. People ask "How can you miss a man you've never met?" or people say "You don't really love him, you can't you don't know him. It's just a crush" Explain to me the butterflies I get just by looking at his hands, or the absolute joy I feel knowing I get to come home, seeing him or reading about him, the way I absolutely gush and blush over every little movement of his, every twitch or blink. Every facial expression holds a special place in my heart. There's not one phase I love of his more than the others. The happiness and immense light he brings to my life, is unexplainable. I know it's love. It's so strong, and fierce....I can't explain it at all. I wish I could, maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad on the days I did miss him if I knew why I loved him so much? But fact is, I can't explain it. I love him. That's a fact. Think and say what you will, but I can't control it.
Today....is one of the days I miss him more than most. I've cried so much, just looking at a photo of him makes me cry. Any of his songs make me cry, I don't know why. I hate that I do. I should be happy he's in Heaven experiencing the peace he so desperately needed, but....I can't help but want to be selfish and question why he's up there instead of down here with me(us). I don't like that, and I feel guilty, he did so much and deserved so much, peace is the least he should get, for all he did. And yet....I want him here. With me. It's just so hard to miss and love someone you'll never meet until later on. And fact is, I know it's stupid and crazy but I feel like I know him, even though no one will ever know him really apart from the people who did and were closest to him, but I feel I do. His likes and dislikes I feel I could name off the bat, there's just some things I see or read about and go "Yeah Elvis would agree with that" or "Oh he'd hate that" or I'd watch a movie and I'd picture him laughing at something in it, and go "Oh he'd love this movie, it's exactly his humor!" and in fact sometimes I swear I can hear his laugh when I do, now I promise I'm not crazy! For example National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation is one movie I know for a fact he'd love. He'd be laughing and reciting so many lines from it all Christmas Holidays I just know it.
He was such a beautiful light. So intricately made, there's not a thing he did that didn't have some purpose. God absolutely knew what he was doing when he was making Elvis(Not that he doesn't know what he's doing already) but you know what I mean. I just....my heart constantly aches for him. It yearns for him. No matter what I do, he comes back to me somehow. I can't escape him no matter how hard I try. And as much as I love him being around, I don't understand why I I love him so much and so abundantly yet my heart hurts so badly. Everyone who met him says the photos did him no justice compared to the real thing....and if I'm in love with what I see on Instagram, or personal recounts, books, magazines, photos, interviews, videos, imagine how much I'd(we'd) love him in person? I just don't get it! Why do I love a man so much that is out of my reach? How am I supposed to live a normal life with this looming over me all the time?
I'm grateful for him of course! I could never not be with him now, but....it get's hard sometimes, when your heart exhausts itself over something you will never reach.
Anyway, sorry for rambling. I don't know if this made any sense at all (probably not) but hopefully this rant helped someone else out there! I feel like I annoy people sometimes so I'm sorry in advanced!
Thankyou for listening!
TCB.
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pensat-i-fet · 1 year
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Finding the perfect gift (Rúben Dias x Reader)
**Not much to say about this one, just a cute little request 😊 enjoy!! ❤️**
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Word count: 1266
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The news of Ines' pregnancy had made everyone happy, of course. But Rúben was probably the happiest of all of Bernardo's teammates. You could tell by the way he beamed whenever Ines called him Uncle Rúben and found it adorable. He was ready to spoil that baby as much as possible.
"We are invited to the baby shower", he announced one day when he came back from training.
"I would be more surprised if we weren't", you laughed. "When is it?"
"Next week. And I need to buy a present".
"Sure. I have a couple of things saved on my Amazon wishlist that we can order".
"But that would be your present. I have to get one that's mine".
That made you raise an eyebrow. "Pretty sure that, as a couple, we can get away with something that is from the both of us. You know, like we do for birthdays, Christmas, …".
"Yes, but it's Bernardo. Not a random teammate. So I want to make a bigger effort".
"Alright. I know what I'm ordering so go ahead and get something on your own".
He thought it would be so easy. It was just a baby, right? And his friends would appreciate anything he got for their child but…he just couldn’t find the right gift, at all.
“Can I see your Amazon account for a second?”, he asked you one day when he saw you ordering something.
“What for?”
“I ordered something from it once and I need to check one thing quickly if you don’t mind”.
“Sure”, you said, not thinking much about it. “Let me finish the order”.
When you were done, you passed the iPad to him, still logged into your account and he went to your wishlist right away but…there were no baby things! Your order history showed the clothes and toys you had bought for baby Silva but all the other things you were supposed to have saved on your wishlist were gone. You and your being an organization freak. It wasn’t the best time for that.
Rúben realised his mistake was probably wanting to buy the gift online. He couldn’t see the sizes or colours well so better to go to a shop. But once he was there, he was overwhelmed. One of the ladies who worked there tried to help him by showing him half the store but most of it just seemed like things the baby was probably going to get from everyone or just useless stuff.
When he got home that day, you were on the sofa reading a book and didn’t have time to say hello to him before he sat down dramatically.
“What’s that face for?”
"I give up", he said, placing his head on your stomach.
"You are giving football up? Come on, you are not that bad".
“The gift”, he said, voice muffled by the jumper you were wearing.
“What gift?”
“The baby’s”.
“You still don’t have one? Rúben, the baby shower is in two days. Just put your name on the cards I got for what I bought. It’ll be fine”.
He looked up at you, still not willing to give up.
“Maybe if we knew the sex of the baby, it’d be easier. It’s the parent’s fault”.
“Don’t be so old-fashioned, Rúben. Toys and colours are unisex”.
He groaned, hiding his face on your stomach again.
“Are you ready to ask for my help now?”, you said, trying not to laugh.
“I’m ready to beg for your help”.
“I quite like the idea of you begging”.
“Can we go to the shop now? Please?”
“Sure, there is one near, around the…”.
“Not that one”, he said, making you frown. “I was there now and I don’t want to embarrass myself more”.
After a 20-minute drive, since the baby shop near your place was now off-limits, you got to the one in a shopping centre.
"Ok, did you have any ideas of what you wanted to get? There are toys, clothes, things for the nursery, for their travel bag, …".
"Why are babies so complicated?"
You bit your lip trying not to laugh at his little tantrum. It was weird to see Rúben not in control of the situation. And it was very amusing too.
"Hi, can I help you?"
He turned hearing the voice of the shop assistant ready to reject her help but you interrupted.
"Yes, thank you. We needed a few things for a newborn".
"Oh, congratulations! You aren't even showing, when are you due?"
Rúben's pale face made you laugh. You couldn't help it.
"I'm not pregnant. It's for a friend. Her baby shower is in a few days and we wanted to get something cute for her baby".
"Of course, sorry. But you would make gorgeous babies. Just saying".
Rúben was now looking pensive.
"She isn't wrong".
"But babies are so complicated", you mocked him.
You put your hands on his shoulders to move him lower and kiss his frown before leading him to follow the shopping assistant that was ready to show you all the things you could buy and then some.
"This is one of our best baby bags. It has space for the diapers, the bottles and all that, but also an area for things the parents might want to carry. So there is no need for handbags or anything else".
"It's lovely", you said. "It almost looks like a normal handbag".
"She probably has one already", said Rúben, annoyed at how basic all the options were.
"Well, they'll be traveling a lot so it's good to have more than one".
He sighed and you took that as a sign to look for something else.
"Rúben, you don't like anything", you whispered to him and noticed his defeated face. "Thank you for your help. We'll think about all the options and come back for something".
"I just…I just want to do something original".
"How about you make your own gift?"
"How?"
"Well, there are all these new things like scrapbooks to write down all the first things the baby does. Or boxes to keep stuff to remember the pregnancy or whatever. I don't know. It was never good at arts and crafts so I went for something basic but useful", you said, shrugging.
Rúben's response was to grab your hand and lead you to another shop…an arts and crafts shop?
"You are always so literal", you laughed. But he finally had an idea. And you could tell how much his mood had improved.
Half an hour later, you left the shop with several bags full of boxes, pencils and other materials he needed for his gift.
And when you got home, it was time to get it all ready. You helped him, picking the colours that looked the cutest together and recommending what each little box could be for. Rúben used that time to teach you more Portuguese words, which he always loved doing.
"Done", he said, looking proud.
"Uncles trying to find the perfect gift for their nephews are so complicated".
                                    **
When you got to the baby shower, you left Rúben alone so you could join Ines and her family.
"Hey, can you take my gift somewhere else?", he asked Bernardo.
"Why? Just put it with the others".
"It's…fragile".
"What did you get?"
"I didn't get it, I made it".
Bernardo smiled at his friend, not surprised at all.
"That's the most Rúben thing I could imagine. Let me take it to our room. Ines and I will open it together later. I'm sure it'll be the best gift our baby got today".
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sunnynwanda · 1 year
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Blind or blinded: Part 2
Part 1
It was not a date. Not in the conventional sense, at least. Rather, a business meeting. 
They decided to get a coffee to avoid suspicions. After all, two adults sitting in a book cafè without any coffee or books would look weird, right? So, while Hero ordered their coffees, Villain browsed the bookshelves, picking a random book for them to have on the table.
After their disaster of a blind date, they spent two hours each lecturing Anita on the horrible mistake she had made by setting them up. She apologised, of course. Even though the knowing smile never left her eyes. 
They met two days later to discuss the results of the ‘educational work’ only to conclude that their friend didn’t seem sorry, not in the slightest. Both knew they had to retaliate in some way as punishment. This led to the third meeting, in which they designed a plan and the fourth, in which they might have celebrated the successful implementation of said plan. 
The fifth time they had come across each other was more of an accident. One that ended up with them on a rooftop, talking over politics and agreeing that the mayor needed some jail time.
Villain stops for a second, hand mid-air in front of the shelf. This was the sixth time they were meeting outside of the usual Hero vs Villain dynamic, and they hadn’t killed each other. In fact, they were able to communicate quite well. 
They notice Hero is back at their table and walk over, a heavy folio in hand. The smell of cinnamon and caramel hits their nostrils, earning a satisfied yet puzzled smirk. "You know my order?"
Why can't you just smile at me? Hero wants to ask. Instead, they run their fingertips over the cover of the book handed to them. “You know my favourite book?" 
Villain shakes their head, accepting the rules of the game. Uncomfortable questions with no answers, it is, then. Will you go out with me for real?
"What did you want to discuss?" They opt for the safer option, taking a sip of their drink. The sweet taste warms their tongue. Hero mirrors the action, drinking their double espresso, no sugar. Villain thinks only absolute lunatics can drink something so sharp and bitter with such a sweet fucking smile. Quite fitting.
"Our plans for the next two weeks," Hero says, meeting their nemesis' eye. "Or rather, the absence of those." They elaborate. Villain has to stop the cup from meeting their lips to avoid choking. 
Oh, right. It’s December 20th. 
"I remember. You and Anita demand a Christmas vacation," Villain replies, attempting to sound disdained and failing miserably. "What am I supposed to do, though?” 
Die of boredom? Another uncomfortable question Villain’d prefer unanswered and unuttered. 
"That's what I wanted to talk about, actually," Hero finds themselves unable to look at Villain, shifting slightly to face the window. For some reason, they were even more nervous now, after five full dates that did not result in murder. “Do you have any plans for our impromptu holidays?”
“Not... exactly,” Villain admits, reaching for their backpack and pulling out a book of their own. Hero offers them the most charming irritating cheerful smile, so they hurry to add before their enemy has a chance to mock them. “I’ll just spend some time on my hobby.”
“Your hobby?” Hero struggles to contain their excitement, the stupid butterflies tickling their lungs. Villain, however, seems oblivious to the glint in their eyes, going for an offended tone again.
“Yes,” they retort, indignation filling their voice. When they agreed to go on a blind date with Anita’s second best friend, they might have suspected something. They might have chosen to act clueless about her scheme. They might have even accepted the possibility of seeing something more in their archnemesis. That was one of the two things Villain would never admit to. “What’s so surprising?” 
“I’m your hobby,” Hero claims, absolutely unashamed as they stare into Villain’s increasingly pink face. “Are you gonna spend some time on me?”
“That’s not what I...” their explanation is interrupted, but Villain fails to grasp the meaning behind Hero’s short comment. Their mind wanders towards their actual hobby, which does, in fact, involve Hero. For quite sometime now. And that is the second thing they weren’t willing to admit. 
“’Cause I don’t mind,” Hero claims, leaning back in their seat and emptying their cup in one gulp. The nerves are getting the best of them while the gorgeous nincompoop sits there, looking out of this world under the cold winter light.
“...meant,” it takes Villain several moments of silence and one teasing grin from Hero to register what their opponent has said. “Wait, what?”
Their brain positively short-circuits as they stare into negative space. Hero ignores that, reaching for their book to hide their trembling fingers. That blind date was the happiest accident that was granted to them by the universe, and Hero would be damned if they let the opportunity slip out of their hands. 
“You know what?” Villain starts, and Hero is about to apologise when Villain strikes them with the most ravishing smile imaginable, rendering them speechless. “I might just do that.”
With that, Villain leans back against their chair, opening the sketchbook on their lap. They watch Hero’s flustered expression turn ecstatic in a matter of mere seconds as the wheels spin harshly in their head. Now, this is a look they’ve never captured before. 
Their pencil barely manages to touch the clean page when Hero breaths out, half-choked. “God, I’m in love with you.”
Villain’s head snaps up as they drop the sketchbook, not noticing the pencil that rolls off their lap when they lean over the table, grabbing Hero’s chin and kissing them without warning.
Anita has to bite down her palm to suppress a victorious yelp as she walks away from the cafe with a jump in her steps. “I think it’s safe to say you both owe me one. Oblivious Idiots.”
Part 1
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 5)
Are you there?
TW: Isolation, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Hinted at Abusive Dynamics
🗞️ You don't remember falling back asleep after that horrible nightmare, but you woke up very early in the day. It's still dark out, but you don't want to go back asleep, again. The dream you had wasn't necessarily that terrifying... you were just wandering through some disheveled house with an odd speaker talking. It was more... Unnerving than terrifying. The most unnerving thing was the pleading. It is more so that you are afraid of worrying your mother, again. She may be strict, but you still love her.
🗞️ You get up, texting Daniel to see if he is awake. Once he responds, saying that he has been awake for a while, you immediately ask if you can come over. You want to talk about the dream you had, but you believe your mother would only use it as a reason why you should stop looking into Welcome Home. He agrees, mentioning that he wants to talk about something, too.
🗞️You quickly and quietly make your way over to his place, seeing him standing outside with a box. He has a huge grin on his face, along with a tired look in his eyes. As you walk up to him, he says "I didn't think they sent mail this early in the morning. I'll show you once we finish talking about that... Weird dream you had? Yeah. I'll make you some coffee and we can talk."
🗞️ You walk inside, then sit at the island in his kitchen. As he makes you both some coffee, you talk about the odd dream. The black paint everywhere, the broken canvases, the painted spirals and eyes. The most chilling, to you, was the voice. Although monotone, you could still tell that it was pleading to someone to be let out. It even realized that someone, you, was there before you woke up.
🗞️ Daniel's face slowly morphs from a grin to a confused, unsettled expression. He looks to the small box he was so happy to show you with slight disdain. Slowly, he speaks "Well... I guess that makes this box a big, weird, creepy coincidence. You see, I couldn't sleep last night. So, I kept checking my mail. I've been so excited to get more stuff to uncover, you know? This show has been eating away at me. When I checked last time, before you texted, I got this."
🗞️ He slides a small, cardboard box to you. As he does so, he says "It had some paper taped onto it. It said "TO: WHOEVER WAS THERE". You know, in large, capital black letters. I guess you should open it up, then! Just for the lolz."
🗞️ You flip it around, checking for any markings. You find some small splatters of black on it. Opening it, you see a VHS tape labeled "Painting in the Dark". You look over to Daniel, whose grin has returned. "Oh my God! (Y/N), do you think this might be an episode of Welcome Home? Or maybe a small snippet of one?"
🗞️ You feel uneasy about all of this, but you force a grin, just for him. "Yeah... maybe. Do you still have that old VHS player my mom gave you last Christmas? We could watch it now, if you do." He nods with such enthusiasm, you half expected his head to fly off. He leads you upstairs, grabbing the VHS player, plugging it into his television, then popping the VHS in.
🗞️ You sit next to him, watching the screen closely. The first thing you notice is how the words "Welcome Home" flash onscreen for a brief second, only to cut to a dark room. A dark room you recognize all to well.
🗞️ It's the painting studio you saw in the odd house, from your dream. It is as dark as ever, but the blue lighting is still there to let you see what is going on. To your shock, Wally Darling is sitting on a stool, his right hand holding a paintbrush, and a canvas beside him. His grin is ever present. His black eyes are trained on the viewer. Trained on you. The oddest part is, although it is supposed to be a puppet show, he looks more like he does in the books. Was this episode animated, or something?
🗞️ He speaks, causing you to flinch. His voice sounds just like the speaker in your dream had, right down to the empty, monotone it had. "Hello, neighbor. You haven't seen me in a while. No one has-" a loud creak resounds, causing him to flinch. His pupils seem to constrict, just for a brief moment, only to return to their normal size.
🗞️"I mean... It's been a while, right? We have a lot of catching up to do. Today, I am going to be painting in the dark! Doesn't that sound fun? The lights haven't turned back on in a very long time, so-" it sounds almost like a door slams open and shut. For the first time in the video, Wally averts his gaze from the viewer, instead looking over to the source of the noise off screen. "Let's just start painting..."
🗞️ He begins painting something, being unnervingly quiet as he does so. He also neglects to show the canvas to the viewer, so you can't see what he is painting. You lean in close to Daniel, keeping your head turned to the screen as you watch. You whisper "This is... off. It doesn't seem like a kid's show." Daniel just lets out a quiet "Yeah..."
🗞️ Once Wally finishes, he begins to turn the canvas to the viewer, only for a loud sound, almost like the cracking of wood, shocks him. For the first time ever, in all your time of restoring media for Welcome Home, you see his face contort to a frown. He looks terrified. He still uses his same, monotone voice, even if it is much more quiet "Home doesn't really like this painting... I guess it is time to go. Goodbye, neighbor."
🗞️ The screen goes black, before the "credits" roll. The only words are "Goodbye, neighbor". No names of who made the episode, or even a company that produced it. You look over to Daniel, seeing from his expression that he must feel the same way. Sick, unnerved, disturbed...
🗞️ He looks down at you, before asking "Do you think we should show this to the others...? I... I feel a bit ill after watching it. Like... physically ill. I don't know why... Do you feel sick, too?" You shake your head, explaining "Nope. I mean... I feel emotionally ill. That was the same exact room I saw in my dream! Wally had the same voice, too. The creaks in response were in my dream, as well. I... It's scaring me."
🗞️"Let's keep this to ourselves, for now." Daniels says. You nod in agreement.
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notenuffbees · 7 months
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I have many responsibilities in my personal and professional life, so naturally I used my valuable time to create this rating of every single one of Dick Knubbler's outfits. I know next to nothing about fashion, so naturally I'm the most qualified person to make this list. Bold fashion choices and wrong opinions under the cut. Let me know what you think!
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"Pre-Accident" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater. What an iconic look to start the series with. Songgu Kwon's concept art that's available online has Knubbler in a traditional suit, so I wonder when they made the switch to this style jacket. It's a shame he never wore this exact outfit ever again. Maybe it doesn't go with his robotic eyes? Do you think Dick had to get a whole new wardrobe after his eyes exploded since he stopped being blue eyed? And what do you think happened to his collection of different shaded glasses? 9/10
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"Award Show " Outfit. Appears in Dethwater. It's a suit. Boring. And it's just the same color scheme as the first outfit? Extra points for the bowtie and the pocket square. I just realized while making this list that he's not wearing shades in this outfit. 6/10
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"Prison" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater If there was any justice in the Metalocalypse universe, Knubbler would have spent the rest of the series in this outfit in a jail cell. Not much else to say about this one. I like the red-rimmed glasses. 3/10
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"Disco" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater.
Hideous. The bell bottoms, the clashing colors, the star patterns, whatever the hell kind of dance moves he's trying to pull off. Absolutely iconic. I would rank this outfit higher if it didn't physically hurt my eyes to look at it. 6/10
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"Magazine" Outfit. Appears in Dethwater.
It's the same as the "Pre-Accident" Outfit, just with a green turtleneck. For some reason I don't like this outfit nearly as much. Maybe because the green matches the eyes? But aren't you supposed to match colors in fashion? I don't know. Again, I'm probably the last person in the world that should be judging clothes.
5/10
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"Court" Outfit. Appears in Dethkomedy. Interesting color choices. This is why Knubbler's outfits are so great. You've got a basic suit-and-tie that becomes a fashion win/disaster with the lilac coat, black shirt, and pink striped tie. The stripes on the tie make it a little too busy for me though. 7/10
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"The Knubbler" Outfit. Appears in Dethkids, Dethrecord, Dethrelease/Black Fire Upon Us, Dethhealth, Doublebookedklok. Step away from your phone/computer for a second. Close your eyes. Take a few breaths. Then picture Dick Knubbler. What outfit is he wearing? I bet you pictured him in this. If you didn't, well then it's what Murderface pictured him wearing in his gay crisis fantasy. So yeah. There's a reason this outfit is the one they put him in over three seasons. Knubbler wore this style jacket before and since these episodes, but the plum really makes this version of the outfit shine. Absolutely perfect. No notes. 10/10
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"Recording on Water" Outfit. Appears in Dethvengeance, the cancelled Metalocalypse video game. Again, I love how Knubbler spices up a classic suit and tie with wild color choices. My personal preference for warm colors has me wishing the colors were a bit bolder than forest green and purple. But I gotta give love to any outfit with a pocket square. 7/10
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"White Dethmas" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas, Fertilityklok, and in issue 3 of the Dethklok comic book. This one's great. It takes a brave man to wear an all white outfit, and he pulls it off. My only issue is that it's kind of weird that he also wore it to Toki's birthday party which, according to the calendar in Fertilityklok, is late summer or early autumn. I assume they made this Dethmas outfit all white to go with the snow/winter/Christmas theme, but apparently Dick will just wear it whenever. 8/10
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"Christmas Special Host" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas. Perfectly average. Just a tuxedo. The red bowtie/pocket square with the green vest is a nice Christmas-y touch. Loses points for being so boring otherwise. 6/10
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"Nativity" Outfit. Appears in Dethmas. I don't know if I've ever been able to watch this clip all the way through without having to pause due to the secondhand embarrassment. Sometimes I think about how there exists a 30 second clip of this man screaming in agony as the blood vessels in his face swell and his eyeballs eventually explode, but this is the clip that makes me cringe myself inside out. I can barely look at this outfit long enough to rank it. The necklace is pretty cool though, even if I can't tell what the charm is supposed to be. It kind of looks like Facebones? Or the old DeviantArt mascot? I don't know. Let's just get the hell away from this picture. 2/10
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"Dealing with a Murderface Tantrum" Outfit. Appears in Dethsiduals The first of two suit-without-a-tie outfits. The purple and black go well together, and the pocket square makes another excellent appearance, although it pairs with the dress shirt this time rather than the ascot. Heh. Ascot. That's a funny word. 7/10
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"Season 4" Outfit. Appears in Writersklok, Goingdownklok, Breakupklok. I'm disappointed that he had so few outfits in season 4. That sours my opinion on this suit a little. But I love that there are three completely different colors with this outfit. Someone teach me how color coordination is done so I can understand why this outfit works.
And we've got another pocket square paired with the ascot! So I get to think about the word "ascot" again! 8/10
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"Flawless Disguise" Outfit. Appears in Writersklok. I love the running joke of a tracksuit and a baseball cap being the ultimate disguise in the Metalocalypse universe. Leave it to Knubbler to turn a tracksuit outfit into a capital L Look. I like that his baseball cap has a blue star on it like the pink shirt from the "Disco" Outfit, and that the suit itself is lavender like the "Court" Outfit. 8/10
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"Clergy" Outfit. Appears in Army of the Doomstar Another boring outfit compared to what he wears for most of the series. I wonder why they picked green for the color. Because that was the color of his robot pupils for most of the series? Because it's the same color as the nuclear seahorse from Dethwater? Because it makes him look more like Yoda? I'll give bonus points to this outfit since he was probably free-balling under that thing. Or should I take away points for that? Honestly my least favorite part of these robes is that Dick didn't get to die in a zazzier outfit. Hopefully in the Metalocalypse universe, ghosts can pick what outfit they wear when they haunt the shit out of the band. 6/10 And that's that! Please tell me how wrong my ratings are and where you would rate them instead. I need fashion lessons!
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colorsunimaginable · 4 months
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the spare // chapter sixty-seven // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au
story summary: 
While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?
*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*
words for this chapter: 8k warnings for this chapter: drinking, a wee bit of p in v
CHAPTER MASTERLIST
my lovely beta reader 💕 banner credit @cafekitsune
Chapter Sixty-Seven:
It’s the day after Christmas and I spend it overthinking, worried about this ‘gathering’ at Cliveden. To distract myself, I fiddle around with the new camera Thomus bought me. 
And I might have taken a few… dozen pictures of him. 
Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but regardless I now have images of him sitting at the kitchen table with a book, typing away at his desk on the typewriter, and even one I convinced him to take with me in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. 
“I think I’m… nervous,” I say as we’re getting ready to leave.
Thomus finishes adjusting the collar of his cloak around the collar of his sweater and gives me a curious look. “You likely have more in common with them than I do.”
I shift on my feet, clutching the Tupperware full of cookies tighter. “I highly doubt that. Ever since you told me about this party, all I can think about is the time you spanked me in front of them.” A satisfied smile spreads across his face as he chuckles and pulls a forest green knit scarf from beneath his cloak. “Are we all just supposed to pretend like that never happened?” He steps closer and loops the scarf around my neck, eyes focused on the task. “Are you even listening?”
“Of course.” His eyes snap up to mine as he flips one end of the scarf over my shoulder and the other down my front. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I release a strained groan and fidget with my Ilvermorny Christmas sweater, pulling the hem further down around my hips. “Let’s just go.”
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We Apparate straight there and I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea what to expect. The few parties Jacob Astor has hosted that I’ve witnessed have varied wildly. From a super serious Death Eater meeting about human trafficking to dancing with Thomus while high on a lust potion - you never really know. Not to mention, the usual crowd has been an unfortunate audience to my most embarrassing moments in the last six months. 
I shudder out of my thoughts while we trek to the large hosting room. The smell hits me first, cinnamon and oranges, and then I register the song playing gently from the corner of the room, Bing Crosby’s White Christmas . An Elf snaps away our outerwear as we approach the open doors.
The room is absolutely decked out . Floating candles light the room, hovering just under the high ceiling. Fake snow drifts down from a dim grey sky, fresh holly on every sconce. In the center of the room against the windows is a massive tree, covered in tinsel and twinkling lights. The grand fireplace is crackling with a delicious smelling fire. We walk closer to the tree, where people are gathered around on couches and chairs, and I can make out what lights the top of the tree... A bright, glowing Deathly Hallows mark. 
Well, that’s fucking weird.
I don’t have time to think on it further before Jacob Astor is standing before us. He looks as dashing as ever and not so surprised that I’m not currently blind. He smiles at both Thomus and me, and I wish I could tell if he’s being sincere.
“Glad you guys could make it,” Jake says cheerfully as he shakes Thomus’ hand, but he’s looking at me. 
Thomus smiles in return, looking more relaxed than he usually does when we’re out. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
As they exchange a few more pleasantries, my eyes wander beyond Jake, trying to see if there’s any familiar faces. I clock Kyle sitting near Will when Jake says something that recaptures my attention. “I see you had your very own Christmas miracle.” 
Thomus’ arm slides around my waist. “Yes, I had some very good luck.”
I don’t miss the double meaning to his words. I wanna remark about how his good luck was really my hard work, but I bite my tongue and force a shy smile as Jake turns to shake my hand as well.
Jake gestures to a food and drinks table set up along a wall. “Help yourselves. I think Will’s trying to start up some drinking games here in a minute.”
I start walking toward the table before Thomus, mostly because I’m eager to exchange this box of cookies for something with alcohol in it. Towards the desert section, I glance back over my shoulder to make sure no one but Thomus is watching me slide trays aside, making enough room for my offering. 
Finally with free hands, I scooch next to Thomus standing by the drinks. 
“Can I pour you anything?” he asks me. 
My eyes scan the bottles, then point to the one I want. “Yeah, can I get orange juice with Malibu?”
He reaches for the white bottle I pointed to and pours a double into the iced glass he’s holding. “Coconut rum?” he questions as he’s reaching for the pitcher of orange liquid. 
“It’s my go-to,” I say as I grab a coffee straw, taking the glass and stirring it once it’s full. I take a sip and it’s just right. He’s busy pouring his own glass of whiskey, but I offer him the straw anyway. “Wanna try?”
I briefly pull his eyes away from pouring as he leans down to wrap his lips around the straw. There’s just something about seeing his jaw flex like that that has me pinching myself. 
“Well, it’s certainly a combination of flavors,” he says after swallowing. 
I snort and forget what I’m about to say when I feel an arm brush my other shoulder. When I see who it is, I relax. “Oh, hi.”
Will’s eyes immediately find the box that doesn’t match the rest of the dishes and nabs one of the bright red cookies. “Oh, hi,” he teases after he takes a bite. His face is sans beard and rocking a stache now. “You guys ready to get trashed?”
“What’re we playing?” I ask, taking a few big pulls of my drink.
“Anything,” Will answers immediately. He pulls out his wand and summons a tray pre-loaded with tiny cauldrons just big enough for shots. A bottle of firewhiskey floats from the collection before us and starts filling the cauldrons. “Got nothin’ but a good time on the agenda.”
“Can we play Thunderstruck?” I ask. 
Will beams. “Fuck yeah we can play Thunderstruck.”
As Thomus and I follow Will back to where everyone else is gathered, Thomus leans in. “Should I know what that is?”
I can’t help but smile. “Oh, you’ll find out.”
There’s an empty loveseat Thomus pulls me onto. He tucks his arm around my waist again as he settles back, practically tucking me into his side. 
As Will passes out the shot cauldrons, I can finally sneak a peek at who’s actually here. Kyle and Will - and obviously Jake. That Roosevelt guy is here, too, but I forget his first name. There’s a pretty blond woman talking to Jake that I don’t recognize and… oh, that’s it. Small group, I see. Which I will admit I’m glad for. 
I take the first shot that Will offers me and I down it immediately before putting it back and grabbing another one. I haven’t really eaten much today, so the alcohol hits my stomach like a warm blast.
“Alright, I wanna make a toast,” Jake announces, standing with his shot held out towards the blond next to him. “Firstly, to my sister, Diana, for the last minute decorating.”
“Well, you obviously weren’t going to do it,” Diana says with a laugh. 
“Exactly,” he says. “And then to all of you - for making this past year as successful as it has been.”
For one blissful moment I had allowed myself to forget why I was here, why they’ve had such a successful year. It takes .2 seconds for the anxious pit in my chest to grow twice its size. I’m the first one to finish my shot and then sip heavily on my cocktail to wash the taste down.
“Alright, the first game we’re playing is Thunderstruck, so everyone top off their drinks,” Will says, heading over to where the Christmas music’s playing from. 
Since mine is already more than halfway gone, I shoot to my feet to fill it back up. I’m not the first one to the drinks table because Kyle is there ladeling in some kind of fizzing purple punch. 
“Want one?” Kyle asks as I glance over my shoulder at Thomus, who briefly looked at me before turning to greet Diana.
“Yes, please,” I reply. “Two actually.”
“This your doing or his?” he asks, his voice low. By this he doesn’t even have to clarify - I just know.
I look up at him and shrug with one shoulder. “Mine.”
“Hmph,” he grunts unhappily. He finishes filling the first glass and then starts the second.
“What, don’t believe me?” I ask, taking a sip of the punch. Elderberry and something that tastes like Aloe juice. 
“I believe you,” he says quickly. “Now it’s just my turn to hold up my end of the bargain.”
I sigh heavily. “You haven’t figured out how to get me away from Thomus yet, have you?”
“Well, I have a few ideas, but I don’t think you’re going to like them.”
“Such as?”
Before he can answer, we get called back to the group to start the song. I’m supposed to hide the fact that I have my magic, so with both hands I carefully cradle my half drink plus the two new ones back to the loveseat. Thomus is still chatting with Diana, a conversation I’ve completely tuned out, so I just slide our drinks onto the coffee table in front of us. 
“Melisa, can you explain the rules?” Will asks. 
I’m a bit taken aback by the use of my whole first name - especially being pronounced correctly - instead of my last. Everyone’s eyes are on me now, so I take a deep breath before spilling the details. “Okay so, we go in a circle and every time the song says ‘thunder’, one person drinks until they say ‘thunder’ again, and then the next person starts and so on and so forth, does that make sense?”
“I’ll start!” Will says before pressing play and jogging over. He comes to sit on the armrest of our loveseat.
The first few thunders come in quick succession, so once Will goes, I go, and then Thomus. The thunders go around the circle a few times before the first long stretch lands on Thomus, who has to finish his whiskey, and with some encouragement, grabs the punch I push towards him. With the circle being small, by the time the song’s over, everyone has finished their drinks.
“Now that we’ve all settled in,” Will jokes, “the next game we’re playing is called Captain.” He sets the music back to Christmas music and turns the volume down to a background level. “Usually, it’s played with a pirate's hat or a sailors hat, but since it’s Christmas - “ he waves his wand and a Santa hat appears on Diana’s head, much to her delight “ - this is what we’ve got. Does everyone know how to play?”
I shake my head, noticing the alcohol has started to loosen my limbs. I’d finished my cocktail during the game and have started on the punch - which I swear keeps refilling itself.
Diana rubs her hands together conspiratorially and leans forward over Thomus to explain. “Whoever has the hat gets to pick someone to do a dare. If they do the dare, then we all take a shot and they get the hat, but if they don’t then they’re out of the game. Last person in the game wins.”
I smile at her. “Please don’t pick me first.”
She laughs. “Don’t worry, I got my eyes on someone else.” She jerks her chin towards Jake, who immediately dons this ‘oh shit’ face. She leans back, crossing her arms with a shit eating grin.
“Why’s it called Captain?” I ask. “Just because of the hat?”
“Whenever someone gets the hat, we’re supposed to say ‘Aye, Aye Captain’,” Thomus explains for me, his face leaning in close. 
I immediately giggle. “Who lives in a pineapple under the sea?”
He runs his hand down my thigh and tilts his head in confusion. “What?”
I shift in my seat, getting closer to him so our thighs touch. “Nevermind.”
“Aye, aye Captain!” Roosevelt and Will shout. 
Diana taps her chin like she’s still considering. “Hmm, dear brother, what shall I make you do?” Then she grins. “I dare you to take your socks off with your teeth and wear them tucked into your collar for the rest of the game.”
My head quickly swivels to where Jake is sitting to get his reaction and he does not disappoint. His face scrunches up in disgust as he slouches in his seat, already toeing off his nice shoes. 
“Hopefully those aren’t the ones you were wearing yesterday,” Will laughs. “Or are they?”
“Shut your trap, Hoffman,” Jake grumbles. 
We all wait with baited breath as he grabs his calf to pull his foot closer to his face. He quickly traps the sock between his bared teeth and pulls. It slips off and he does the same to the other one before tucking them both into his collar. 
He grins triumphantly and quickly summons house slippers for his bare feet. “Ha!” he says. “Drink up, assholes.”
We all take our drinks as the Santa hat gets transferred to Jake. 
“Aye, Aye Captain!” we all shout. 
His eyes jump from person to person, and he’s quick to settle on Kyle, who clearly isn’t paying attention. 
Kyle’s sole focus is on Thomus, blatantly staring at him with something akin to determination and consideration. 
The look quickly disperses as my stare gives Jake’s intention away and Kyle’s expression neutralizes. 
“Kyle,” Jake says. “I dare you to serenade the person to your right.”
Kyle sighs dramatically, rubbing his hand down his face. “I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”
Nevertheless, he swiftly gets down on his knees in front of Diana, a hand clutched over his heart. As he’s clearly about to break out in song, I briefly wonder if he’ll have a decent singing voice, and I find out soon enough as he belts out the easily recognizable first notes to All I Want for Christmas is You . His voice is off-pitch and scratchy, and I genuinely can’t tell if he’s being bad on purpose or not. Everyone starts laughing and I can’t help but join in. 
When he gets to the end of the first verse, he takes Diana’s hand and gives the back of it an exaggerated kiss. We give him a round of applause as he takes his seat. Jake gives Kyle the hat while we take our drink for the round.
It doesn’t surprise me that Kyle chooses Thomus, I only worry what he’ll make him do. He’s looking around, trying to come up with an idea until his eyes land on Thomus’ drink in his hand. 
“Malfoy, I triple doxy dare you to… finish yours and Alder’s drinks in one go.”
Thomus scoffs. “And here I thought you were going to pick something difficult.” He quickly finishes the rest of his punch in a few gulps before trading glasses with me. “Tada,” he proudly announces after easily downing the rest of mine, then he stands holding our four empty glasses by the rim in one hand. “Drink up.”
As Thomus goes across the room to refill our punch, Kyle leans forward, staring at me intently. 
“We need to get him drunk,” he hisses low. 
I blink at him in surprise, then jump my gaze first to Thomus’ back and then to the rest of the group. No one seems as surprised as I am. Even Roosevelt, who I overheard someone refer to him as Eric, doesn’t bat an eye. Is everyone in on this plot?
“That’s your plan?” Will asks incredulously.
“It’s the start of one,” Kyle answers. “Get him so drunk he passes out and she can just… leave.”
“Just leave ?” I ask. I look to the windows, searching for that shimmer from the magical barrier from before. “What about -”
“The tattoo doesn’t work here,” Jake quickly adds. “And there aren't any additional wards to trap you here.”
Everyone is looking at me, waiting for my response. My heart has leapt to my throat to block any logistical questions I have before Thomus swoops back into his seat.
“What’s that look for?” Thomus asks me. I quickly snatch the glass he hands me to swallow my thrumming heart back into my chest. 
Diana jumps in for my rescue. “I was just telling her about my ex.”
“Oh Merlin,” Thomus groans, slumping back against the loveseat. “It’s not a story about me, is it?”
What? Jesus fuck, these people keep smacking bludgers at me one after another. 
I try not to react outwardly to the news that Diana and Thomus used to date, even if this news is just as jarring as the imminent plan for my escape from him. I focus on her, really taking in what she looks like. Extremely tall and willowy with big round hazel eyes and a cupid’s bow mouth. Jealousy flares up inside because I can’t help but compare us. Her thighs combined are the size of just one of mine. 
She flips her long dirty blond hair over her shoulder and crosses her legs, perching an elbow on the armrest of her chair. “No, but I ought to, shouldn’t I?”
“Definitely not,” Thomus says, quickly sitting forward with a hand outstretched towards Kyle. “Pass me the hat.” He settles the white faux fur rim of the Santa hat over his dark curls. 
“Aye aye, Captain!” they all shout. I’m too anxious and fixate my eyes on my drink, still fizzing on the coffee table in front of me. My mind is racing with all that could potentially happen. Where would I go? How long could I hide? Could I be summoned back because of the tattoo? If the idea is to get me close to Voldemort, wouldn’t fleeing just put a target on my back? I wonder if I’d be able to get a message to Hermione about -
Thomus’ hand brushes down my arm. “Melisa?”
My eyes snap to his, focused on me, and I swallow around nothing. “Yeah? Sorry.”
He gives me a sly smile. “It’s your turn.”
“Alright,” I sigh, making a face. “Lay it on me.”
He takes a deep breath and I expect it to be something genuinely challenging, but in all honesty it’s a bit underwhelming. “I dare you to sing the alphabet… backwards.”
I snort. “Jokes on you because I was taught that in the second grade.” 
“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins. “Let’s hear it, then.”
Looking at him, I feel less nervous about making a fool of myself in front of everyone else. So I start to sing, keeping my eyes on him or on his person, because after a few moments the prolonged eye contact makes my face heat. 
Even after I’m finished with the letters, I keep going with the end of the song. “ Now we know our ZYXs’, next time we will go to Texas. ”
Will laughs. “Why the fuck are we going to Texas?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Ask Mr. Morley.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“My elementary school music teacher,” I reply smoothly. “Now drink the fuck up.”
Jake is the first to finish his drink, so he stands to get a refill. “We should play something else. All our dares suck, no ones gotten out yet.”
“I’ve got a good one,” I say quickly. I’d taken a drink, too, because why not? Who wants to make hard decisions sober?
I pluck the Santa hat off Thomus’ head and slip it over mine. “You ready, Will?”
Will squares his shoulders, facing me dead on, expression serious. “Born ready.”
“I dare you to recite a poem - any poem, but you -” I start to blow a raspberry with my tongue in between every word “- have to talk like this.”
Will snickers. “You got that from Spongebob.”
“So what if I did? You still gotta do it,” I smile. “And I don’t think I heard my ‘aye aye, Captain’.”
Jake and Kyle are the only ones who don’t say it. Kyle is lost in his thoughts if his dead eye stare at his drink is evidence enough, and Jake is too far away at the food and drinks table to care.
It’s hard to keep the grin off my face as Will complies with my dare. “ Mosquito lands on my cheek. I try to slap her, but I just slap me. ” He finishes by standing with a bow. 
“That’s it?” Diana protests. “It was so short.”
“It’s a haiku,” Thomus explains. “A type of Japanese poem.”
“Oh, yeah that’s right,” she says. “Do you still work for the Daily Prophet? Or has that taken a backseat for… other things?” 
“A bit of both, really,” he sighs. “The Dark Lord hasn’t required much of me lately, so I’ve been helping Barnabas Cuffe with editing. In addition to helping my sister-in-law with the New Year’s Eve Gala she’s hosting.”
“Speaking of,” Jake says, rejoining the group, “why weren’t we invited?” It’s obvious he’s not really offended, just genuinely curious. 
Thomus sighs and speaks with a hint of resentment. “Only the Sacred Twenty-Eight and whoever’s crawled up through the Dark Lord’s ranks, I’m afraid. Not even the Lots are allowed to be present.”
“Well, if you’re free, Melisa,” Diana says, speaking to me. “You’re welcome to come to a New Years Eve party here. It would just be us and a few of my girlfriends from Oxford.”
I’m genuinely shocked and flattered that this goddess is inviting me to a party, but I know that this has to be a backup plan for escape if tonight doesn’t go as Kyle wants it. I don’t even get a chance to respond because Thomus puts a possessive hand on my leg, wedging his long fingers into the tight space between my thighs. 
“Unfortunately, that’s not possible,” Thomus says, speaking for me with a tone of finality, and doesn’t even bother to explain why.
She peers at us curiously for a moment before realization dawns. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot.”
The tray with all our mini shot cauldrons fill back up as Thomus just gives a silent nod of acknowledgement. 
We play another couple rounds of Captain before all the drinks finally start to do their job and loosen everyone up. I know I’m starting to feel it, especially when I stand to go find a bathroom. 
Thomus insists on accompanying me, especially when I steer towards the bathroom down by the kitchens. He takes me back out to the lobby, showing me where the bathrooms are there. Secretly, I’m glad, because I don’t think I’d be able to make it up and down all those stairs without tripping at least once. I don’t think Thomus would either, based on how many times he bumps into me. 
He even follows me into the women’s bathroom, insisting that it doesn’t matter since we’re the only ones in there. 
“I didn’t realize how clingy you were,” I tease, saddling my way into one of the stalls to do my business.
He slides into the one next to me. “Oh, poppycock. I’m just being a gentleman and making sure you don’t fall in.”
My laugh is sharp and loud in the echoey bathroom. “That actually happened to me when I was in preschool. The seat wasn’t down so my butt got all wet and I just sat there waiting to be rescued by a teacher.”
I hear his warm chuckle. “How old were you?”
“Four,” I say as I finish and leave the stall to wash my hands. He joins me a moment later, still chuckling to himself. “What?”
He shakes his head absently. “Nothing, you’re just… adorable.”
I snort as I reach for a paper towel. “Right.”
He dries his hands too and quickly reaches for me as I try to pass him to the door. He leans back against the counter, a hand on my hip and one on my cheek, pulling me towards him. I don’t resist and lean into him, our lips quickly meeting. My arms snake around his waist, wanting a hug at the same time, because it strikes me that if I leave tonight… this could be it. 
I still have a million doubts and questions that need answered, but right now… right now he wants me and I need to bask in it for as long as I can, while I still have the chance.
I deepen the kiss and I boldly slip one of my hands to the front of his jeans. He’s already semi-hard, but at my touch, he groans and bites my lip. 
“You want to do this here?” he asks, his voice husky.
I nod, my other hand coming around to undo his pants and slip my hand inside. “I want you so bad.”
He drags kisses along my jaw and down my neck. “It’ll have to be quick.”
“And hard,” I breathe, practically panting with want already.
Determination in his movements now, he flips us around until my fupa is pressed against the sink counter and he’s grinding against my ass. He moves my hair away from my neck, sensually kissing the soft spot below my ear. Over my sweater his hands slowly grope down from my chest, then my stomach and the fleshy “handles”, as he’s called them before, where my fupa meets my hips. 
I push my ass back against him. “I thought you said we had to be quick.”
He bites my neck, wringing a moan from me. “Patience,” he warns. 
One hand lets go of my handle and slips underneath to firmly cup the junction between my legs. I sigh heavily and whine, rocking my hips, increasing the pressure on my clit. 
“Fuck,” he groans out. Finally he hooks his fingers into my waistband and yanks my pants and undies down to my knees. I push my ass out towards him when he takes a step back to pull his cock out. He moans when his tip pushes through my lips, feeling how wet I am. Then he doesn’t waste a second longer and slides home. 
I cry out, biting my lip in an attempt to keep it muffled. I plant my hands on the smooth cold counter and immediately start rocking back and forth, desperately impatient. With a hand on the center of my back, he pushes me forward while snapping his hips to my ass, seamlessly sliding into the pace I’d set. Quick staccato slapping echoes around the room as he thrusts hard and deep. My eyes roll back into my head, hardly aware of the noises I’m making because I’m too busy losing my mind to the pleasure.
He slows all too soon, pulling me back up to attach his mouth to my neck again. My back bends to accommodate him, and while still keeping him buried to the hilt, my chest juts out. He takes advantage of the position and pushes my sweater up until his fingers find the band of my bra and he pushes that up too. My heavy breasts fall into his hands and he groans, pinching my nipples, and fucking into me with slow, but hard thrusts. 
My eyes flutter open briefly, a sudden urge to see. He’s fucked me in front of a mirror before, but he hasn’t done it since I’ve gotten my sight back. Admittedly, I have a bit of an out of body experience, looking at what’s happening instead of feeling it. I hate what I look like, of course. Sometimes in my head I look different than I really do and seeing myself in the mirror can be pretty jarring. 
But then I look at Thomus’ face. He’s so… wrapped up in me, hands full, mind clearly numb with ecstasy. 
I close my eyes again, grimacing, swallowing down the sudden onslaught of longing and loss. It’s probably all the alcohol, but tears fill my vision because I just can’t bear losing this. I quickly blink them away, avoiding looking in the mirror again. 
I don’t want to ruin the moment, so I start pushing back against him again, urging him to pick up the pace. 
He obliges me for a few moments until he slows to a stop. He’s still panting and holding me against him before he sighs heavily.
“Darling, you feel amazing, but I don’t think I can finish,” he murmurs hesitantly, sounding regretful. 
I nod, sniffling. “It’s okay, we can stop.”
He pulls out and I swiftly right myself, pants back over my hips, bra holding what it should, sweater in the right place. It’s only then that I look in the mirror again. Luckily he didn’t bite me too hard, so there’s no hickey to cover up. I just wet my fingers and run them through my hair before flipping it back over. Leaning close to the mirror, I check that my makeup is still good.
“Were you crying?” he asks point blank, staring at me in the mirror. 
“No,” I lie, but I feel a river about to gush out of my nose, so I quickly snag a paper towel and blow into it. “I just had to sneeze real bad and didn’t wanna ruin the moment.”
Fully dressed again, he slides a hand down my butt, gripping it appreciatively. “I’d be happy to help you finish,” he suggests.
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay,” I say, forcing a reassuring smile on my face. I rock up onto the balls of my feet to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Still scratched that itch and felt amazing.”
He takes my hand, pulling me to the door. “Then let’s get back. Hopefully they won’t give us too much grief for taking so long.” He smirks down at me and winks. Actually winks . It's such a quick thing, but it makes my heart contract in my chest with the need to be wrapped up in him again. 
God I’m so fucked.
~*~
As predicted, when we return Will and Jake are quick to wolf whistle. They’re over by the music and Thomus joins them while I sink into his seat next to Diana. My face has got to be as red as my sweater, but Diana doesn’t comment on it. She just hands me a full shot cauldron with an understanding look. Grateful, I take the shot. Getting dicked down sobered me a bit more than I wanted.
Eric is busy scribbling away in a little notebook and next to him is Kyle and his stupid judgmental face.
I ignore him and focus on Diana. “So what did you study at Oxford?”
“I studied Art History,” she says, “but I didn’t get, like, a degree or anything. I just wanted to know a little more about the art I was seeing in the museums here.”
“That’s one thing I haven’t done since I’ve gotten to England,” I say. “I used to love going to museums.”
She tilts her head, looking curious. “Were you meant to stay long?”
I shrug. “I had an internship at the Daily Prophet, which I’d been hoping would lead to a full time position at some point.”
“Oh, so you worked with Thomus then?” she asks. “You knew him… before.”
“No, actually,” I say, reaching over for my punch. “I… He wasn’t around all that much while I was there.” 
“What gives with the Deathly Hallows mark on the tree?” Kyle asks out of the blue. “You know it’s just a story, right?”
Diana, who’s clearly much more sober than Kyle is right now, looks at him without mirth. “It’s very real.”
I nod along, knowing all too well the truth behind the Deathly Hallows.
“Grindelwald murdered a lot of our family with the Elder Wand,” Diana continues. “Not to mention, I’ve seen invisibility cloaks with my own eyes.” She grimaces. “And yes, I know what I just said is an oxymoron.”
With another pull of my drink, I feel gutsy enough to ask something that’s been on my mind for a while. I lean closer to her and lower my voice. “So… has your brother… always been… “ I sigh. I feel silly saying ‘on our side’, but how else can I put it? “I don't know, I guess I'm asking about allegiances.”
Kyle gives me an ‘are you serious’ look. “Of course he’s been in on it,” he says, as if it should’ve been obvious. 
“The entire time?” I ask skeptically, distinctly remembering how not nice he was when we met the night Montague got beat the fuck up by Thomus.
“He’s playing the long game,” Diana explains. “Jake’s very good at wasting The Great Order’s time.” 
Her eyes are on the three men in the corner and I turn to look just as the three of them take a shot. “Does Thomus know?” I ask, my voice low.
“Thomus is under the impression that Jake just has reservations about certain things,” she says. 
“Participating without actually participating,” I surmise.
She nods. “Exactly.” Her gaze is drawn to Eric, and she stares at him for a moment before she asks, “What happened to your hand, Eric?”
Eric looks up, seeming to have forgotten where he was. He looks around and finds the three of us looking at him. Then the question seems to sink in and he looks down at his hand. Bandages wrap around his palm and twist up his two middle fingers.
“Oh, I uh, had a bit of an accident a few days ago,” he says. “Working on the…“ He eyes me for a second before looking back at Diana. “On the thing.”
“You don’t have to speak in code,” Kyle says to him. “She can handle a few more secrets.”
I nod in agreement, though really it has nothing to do with how good I am at keeping secrets. I’m just too nosey for my own good.
“Right, sure, yeah,” Eric says. He looks down at his notebook. “I’m having a bit of a timing issue. I think I’ve got the explosive strong enough, but it seems the stronger it gets, the less time I have before it goes off.”
I quickly glance back at Thomus, catching him downing another shot, before turning back and whispering, “You’re building a bomb?”
He nods. “Something powerful enough to break through Anti-Apparition wards.”
My eyes widen. “That’s a thing?”
The corners of his mouth turn up in an amused grin. “I’m definitely trying to make it one.”
“Do you have the recipe?” I ask, a bit eager. “I’ve had a similar issue with magical film developer. I might be able to help.”
“Yeah, here.” He flips through a couple pages until he lands on a spread that’s definitely got more use than the rest, then passes it to me.
As I scan the page, I see that a few of the core ingredients are the same, just how they’re incorporated is slightly different. The measurements are also scaled down for testing purposes.
“If this were to scale, how much willow root would you add?” I ask. 
“The entire root, but I chop it up.”
“If you grind it down into a powder and then weigh it, it’s easier to be more precise with the amount you add,” I explain, not looking up from the page. “And you’re not adding nearly enough bursting mushroom powder.”
When I look up, Eric’s head is tilted, his eyes unfocused, his mind clearly running away from him with this new information. “Interesting,” he says. 
“Magical film developing potion always implodes on itself. It’s just a fact. But I’ve made it so much that I can time it down to the second it’ll implode,” I explain. “Would you… want me to write the recipe down for you? Then you can compare.”
He blinks back into focus, nodding eagerly. “Yes, please do. Here.” He passes me his pen and I quickly jot down my recipe on the next available page in his book.
By the time I’m done, the music gets turned up, and the three in the corner start making their way over to us. I toss down the rest of my drink before reaching for Thomus’, but Kyle stops me. 
“Don’t,” he warns.
I quickly put two and two together. “What did you put in here?” I demand with a hushed voice.
“Relax,” he says, standing. “It’s just something to speed things up.”
Completely oblivious, Thomus plops right down next to me, swinging his arm around my shoulders. 
“Is that mine?” he asks, not bothering to wait for my response before he grabs his drink and chugs it. He audibly plonks the glass onto the coffee table and turns to me, grinning mischievously from ear to ear, looking like he has a dirty secret he can’t wait to share with me. I return his smile with a hesitant one of my own. 
He leans close to speak in my ear, though he’s not exactly quiet. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
My face immediately flushes because everyone heard that. I look around in panic to find everyone staring at us, too. Their expressions aren’t of disgust, though, just surprise.
“Oh my god,” I say, covering my face with my hands. I shoot to my feet. “I need a drink.”
As I speed away, I hear Thomus ask, “What did I say?”
I glance over my shoulder to see Diana covering her mouth in a fit of giggles and Jake shakes his head. “Dude.”
I’m munching on one of my red cookies when Thomus comes up behind me, his hand drifting down my back to settle on my waist. “What’s the matter?” he asks.
“Nothing. You just -” I glance up at him, noting his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. “I guess I’ve just never seen you so relaxed. Especially around other people. And we’re acting like we’re…” My heart’s thundering in my chest as I force the last few words out. “Like we’re a couple.”
He turns to face me and leans a hip on the table. “You’re right, it is a bit out of our usual routine,” he admits, his expression serious. “I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
I sigh and shrug a shoulder. “No more than you usually do.” I put my hand over his where it rests on the table, pushing the tips of my fingers against his knuckles. “And I don’t hate… this, how it feels, you know? It’s just hard to pair it with everything else,” I say. “If that makes sense.”
He nods slowly, looking down at our hands. “This is all new for me, if you can believe it,” he says softly. “I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.”
I bump his hip with mine. “Hey, we fucked in the bathroom. I’d say I'm having a decent time.”
He snickers and leans in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, based on tonight’s agenda, but luckily Will calls us over from a card table Jake summoned to play Exploding Snap.
~*~
A little while later we’re all sitting around the card table. I’ve elected not to play since I don’t have my wand and technically Thomus doesn’t know that they know I have my magic.
Throughout the game, Thomus gets noticeably drunker than everyone else, despite only sipping his drink. During one round while waiting for his turn, I guess all the drinks and whatever Kyle spiked his drink with, finally catch up with him. He passes out with his head propped in one hand and the other loosely clutching his cards. 
When they notice, the room goes silent except for the Christmas music still playing. Kyle slowly reaches over and shakes Thomus’ shoulder, making his head fall right onto the table with an ominous thunk that does not match the vibe of McCartney’s Wonderful Christmastime .
I stare at his face, overwhelmingly anxious about his well-being, when an uncharacteristic snore breaks through the silence between songs. 
“Finally,” Jake sighs, tossing his cards onto the table and running a hand over his face. “You sure about this, Kyle? There’s no turning back from this.”
Kyle stands, pulling out his wand. “Trust me. This is the only way.’
“What happens now?” I ask. 
Kyle moves Thomus’ unconscious form into the air where he hovers with his arms and head dangling.
But he doesn’t answer me. 
“ Kyle ,” I press, “what happens now?”
“Now, we put him to bed and by the time he wakes in the morning, you’ll be long gone,” he answers, moving with Thomus towards the stairs on the other side of the room.
I stand too, quickly following him to demand answers. “Where, exactly, will I be?”
“That’s up to you,” he answers casually. “You can probably get away with hiding here in this massive fucking house until he leaves.”
“What, you think he’s just gonna accept that I’m gone?” I ask. “No questions asked?”
“Yeah, we’ll just tell him you must’ve left in the middle of the night or something. What room am I putting him in, Jake?”
We’ve gotten to the stairs and it’s only then I realize everyone has followed us, with Will right behind me. 
“Three doors down from the top of the stairs,” Jake answers. “On the left.”
I realize it’s the same room he put us in before and my face heats at the memory of being bound to the wall and fingered within an inch of my life. We get into the room and I rush forward to pull the velvety soft duvet back from the pillows. Kyle gently lowers him and I make sure he’s settled properly to avoid potentially choking on his own vomit in his sleep. 
“What now?” I ask, pulling off Thomus’ shoes and tucking his legs under the blankets before pulling up the unfitted sheet to his chest.
“Merlin,” Kyle exclaims. “Will you quit it?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “ No , I won’t,” I say tightly. “We need this figured out before there’s no going back.”
“Fine,” he says, mimicking my stance and leaning against the wall. “What’re you so worried about?”
I take a deep breath, trying to speak calmly. “What makes you so sure he’s not going to find me?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s literally the Death Eater’s best tracker.”
“He hasn’t found George Weasley,” Will says.
“I’ve no fucking idea how George has managed to avoid getting caught by anyone , given how much of a high profile he has, but there’s no way I could do the same and be close to Voldemort like you want. A missing Lot? The Death Eaters are gonna go apeshit.”
“What about that Lot that escaped early on? Killed her owner and everything,” Kyle says.
“I’m pretty positive she’s straight up left the country,” I say, talking with my hands. “And I don’t think any of us are on board with killing him.”
Kyle nearly rolls his eyes. “I never said we had to kill him,” he says. “You’re here, out of your wards. There’s no need.”
“Okay, well me leaving the country is the exact opposite of what we want,” I say and start to pace. “How long would I be hiding?”
“I don’t know,” Kyle answers, shrugging. “Could be months.”
“Great, so you’re just gonna come get me when it’s time to, what, attack Hogwarts? Do you really think there’s gonna be another fight there? Or are we waiting for him to make an appearance somewhere?”
“I’ve heard he’s pretty reclusive right now, actually,” Will pipes in. “He hardly leaves the school.”
“Great!” I exclaim with fake enthusiasm. “So I’ll just camp out in the Forbidden Forest, then? Take my chances at running into Dementors, Death Eaters, centaurs, fuckin’ giant spiders , for fucks’ sake?”
“Girl’s got a point, Kyle,” Jake says, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the ornate bed post. 
“Well, what else is she going to do? She’s useless to The True Order just playing house with a Malfoy,” Kyle says.
“Hey, I’ve done stuff,” I protest. “I’ve passed important notes to the Order, hidden a fugitive right under Thomus’ nose, and it was me who got the word to that safehouse that it was going to be raided.”
“ What ?!” Jake looks at me absolutely stunned. “That was you?”
“Yes! Who else in that room from the meeting would’ve tipped them off?” I ask. “ And I’ve managed to become immune to that scary as shit magic suppression potion. Have you ever taken that shit? It’s utterly terrifying to not have your magic.” I stop my pacing and look around at all of them. “To be completely at the mercy of someone who couldn’t give a shit whether you lived or died? We’ve all been sterilized and raped and branded as property. ” 
I pull my left sleeve up, bearing the tattoo and the scars Bellatrix left me. Diana’s visibly horrified and everyone else just looks mildly uncomfortable. “And these are just the scars I’m willing to show you.”
I force myself to calm down, breathing deep in through my nose and out my mouth. “I’m not going to jump headfirst into a plan held together with Spellotape and superglue,” I say after a moment. “Thomus trusts you guys. Aren’t you his best friend, Jake? Are you really gonna break his trust by losing something he obviously has put a lot of time and effort into keeping alive?”
Kyle is glaring hard at the carpet and Jake's intense focus jumps between me and Thomus. 
Jake exhales heavily. “She’s right.”
My shoulder’s sag with relief. “Thank you.”
“We have to think of a legitimate way to get you away from him,” Diana says. “Do you think he’d ever… let you go?”
I frown. “Like… set me free?” 
She nods. “Then maybe you could get scooped up by another Death Eater or something, someone who works more closely with You-Know-Who or who’d… loan you, I guess.”
I turn around to gaze at Thomus, sleeping soundly, and recall every possessive look or grab he’s given me. “No,” I say softly. “There’s no way he’d let me go willingly.”
Kyle snorts. “Yeah I second that. The asshole nearly slits my throat if I even talk to her when he’s not around.”
“Even if I could convince him somehow,” I say, “it wouldn’t matter what he wanted. I know he’d use the Death Eaters as an excuse. He couldn’t pretend I was gone if someone saw me. The Malfoy’s reputation and the trust the Dark Lord has in them would be put in jeopardy. There’s no way he’d risk the lives of his family.”
“Is there anybody that out ranks him?” Will asks. “Someone who could make that choice for him.”
“I’m not sure, really,” I admit. “I’m sure there is, but I don’t know who. Someone older, like his brother maybe?”
“We just need a reason for them to take you from him,” Jake explains. “Like a change of… ownership.”
“Who, though?” I ask. “And why?”
“Probably best if that’s something for us to figure out,” Kyle says pointedly. “Just in case.”
I sigh heavily and start heading towards the door. “Whatever. All I care about is that it’s legit, okay? Something that’s not gonna get any of us killed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Will agrees, stepping out of my way. “Where’re you going?”
“To stand outside and pretend that I’m free.”
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