#it was also Christmas themed which gave me the excuse to wear ALL RED | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peter-parcoeur · 3 years

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Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

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« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“ Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower. Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house. The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #frat boy tom holland #frat!tom #enemies to lover #tom holland x reader

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lovelytarou · 3 years

Text

you make me go uwu

pairing: midoriya izuku x reader

genre: fluff, angst

tags: inspired by the song uwu by chevy

a/n: i'm just projecting my izuku feels and me literally going soft whenever i see his chubby face in the manga ang going uwu over it, also i still have a christmas hangover so sorry if you don't celebrate that or not fond of it! hearts, reblogs & feedbacks are greatly appreciated 💗

midoriya izuku is a lot of things.

he's one of the best students at UA and was quite known to be a reckless person who never thinks twice about helping someone. his knack for breaking his bones was a testament to that fact.

he's no doubt going to be one of the best pro heroes out there soon, with a big heart, a kind soul, and a courageous spirit.

midoriya izuku is a lot of things and possessing such cute, squishable cheeks is one of them. or more likely, being cute is one of them.

this thought occured to you when he offered to help you in one of the classes you're having trouble with. being at such close proximity made you aware of just how green his eyes are and when the sunlight hits them just right, they look like beautiful gems. or how he always seem to mutter under his breath when he's thinking too hard, or how his right leg would unconsciously shift to you like he wanted to get closer.

but one of the things you noticed the most, is his cheeks while he puffs them out of frustration.

he's gonna give me a heart attack one of these days with how cute he is

incident #1

you were currently at the cafeteria, sitting at a table with the dekusquad (kaminari came up with it, izuku claimed their little group don't have a name) which consists of ochaco, shouto, tenya, and izuku.

everything is going well, the group had already bought their food and are now digging in after a collective, “itadakimasu!”

you just had the most fortunate opportunity to sit in front if izuku, of all people, who is too busy eating.

he paused for a moment to answer iida's question who's beside him and it made his cheeks bloated with the food inside.

you choked on your drink because you just felt your heart swell with how cute he looks. it almost reminded you of a hamster.

shouto who is sitting on your left, gave you a concerned look and offered you his water.

“are you okay, l/n-san?” his question made izuku turn to you both, you felt your cheeks heat up when he looked at you while looking like that.

“i-i'm fine, thanks.” you took the water from him and gulped it down to clear your throat, and cool your nerves.

“you should chew your food properly when eating or else you'll choke!” iida scolded, waving his hands in a chopping motion you all grew to be familiar with.

“s-sorry...” you can't help but scratch at your nape in embarrassment.

incident #2

“midoriya, you're up.” aizawa called one afternoon on another day of training.

the rest of class 1-a stood back while izuku stepped in front. this was another one of aizawa's endurance training and one of the challenges was to beat a bunch of the robots from the entrance exam once again. how he can call this endurance training, you don't know.

“SMAAAAASH!” you heard izuku yell, tearing through what was once a robot and turning it into scraps of metal.

he did this to the other robots and he landed on his feet with a very serious look that instead of making him look intimidating, it actually made him look more adorable.

“he's like an angry bunny–” you cut yourself off with a hand on your mouth as you laughed quietly, another flush blossoming on your cheeks.

“i know right?! look how cute he is, but he's scary when he shows how strong he is like that.” mina added, looking at izuku who's walking towards the both of you now.

you immediately composed yourself when his eyes landed on you.

“y/n! are you okay? your face is all red! are you sick? do you need to go to recovery girl? shall i take you to her? what if you're overheating?! it's so hot out and your hero costume's probably too heavy–” he began to ramble and you can only stare at him with wide eyes as he continued with his wild thoughts.

quickly dismissing him with a hand on his mouth as everyone started to look at the two of you, izuku stared down at it and felt flustered at how soft your hand felt on his lips.

he's practially kissing your palm, do you even register what you're doing to him?!

“shh! i'm fine! it's just...you're so–” you were about to tell him that he's just so damn cute but you were called by aizawa.

“uh, i gotta go! see ya later!” you scrambled away from him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

that was close.

incident #3

“hey, y/n? can i ask you a favor?” you looked up from your phone when izuku approached you on the dorm's common room.

worry is written all over his face as he fumbled with his fingers, thinking about you being too busy even though you're literally on your phone all day.

there he goes again.

before he can overthink more, you smiled at him warmly and stood up from your seat.

“sure, what's up?”

izuku gulped, “well, uh, i was thinking of a gift to give to someone but i, um, don't know if they'll like it? i kinda, um, need your opinion on it, if that's okay?”

he stared at you with big doe eyes and you can't help but swoon when he looks at you like that. of course, how can you say no to that face? he looks like he'd cry any moment if you denied him.

“alright! what gift did you get for this particular someone?” you teased, nudging his side.

he led the two of you to his room, which isn't the first time since it became a usual thing for the two of you to study together there or simply hang out and talk about your problems, about what you did that day, rambling about your favorite heroes...basically this has became your second room. and your's his.

“um, i got them this,” he opened his bedside drawer and pulled out a small box. inside it, he revealed a beautiful necklace with a letter D as a pendant.

“it's for ‘deku’ which sounds kind of cheesy since it's my hero name, but i just thought that if i gave it to them then that means i'm with them wherever they are,” he reached for something inside his shirt, showing you an identical looking necklace with a familiar letter on it.

you don't want to assume things, but whoever is this particular someone that izuku is going to give the necklace to, they sure are one lucky person. not only is he kind, thoughtful, caring, and not to mention cute, but they'd be lucky to have someone like izuku fall for them.

ignoring the sudden pang of hurt in your chest, you forced a smile on your mouth and cooed at him.

“aww, that is so cute, izu! i'm sure they would love that very much. i know i would! if they don't, you can just always give it to me,” you joked, laughing to mask your hurt.

“r-really? you think so?” when you nodded in response, izuku heaved a big sigh of relief, “well, i trust you, y/n. i'm sure they would love this.”

after that, you excused yourself out of his room and proceeded to go to yours. sleep didn't come to you easily that night, thinking about the special someone that izuku was talking about and how much it would hurt once you saw them together.

over the years you spent being his friend, you never thought you would harbor such deep, intense feelings for the green-haired boy. you don't doubt he has great things ahead of him, and because of that, you started to like him for how strong he is and how he continues to be a better hero, and an overall a great person. that awe soon turn to adoration. and before you knew it, you're falling hard for izuku.

last incident

it's christmas, and the day before, aizawa had made all of you draw lots for your secret santas. your heart stopped when you saw izuku's name on the paper you pulled from the bowl.

you didn't think too much of it and decided to give him something all might-related and called it a day, still a little sour over izuku falling for someone else.

when the dreaded day came, everybody was so chaotic and high on their holiday spirits. even bakugou, which they convinced to wear a santa hat and haul the gifts in a bag. although, he still had a big scowl on his face and basically threw the gifts to their designated owners.

“shitty hair!” bakugou barked, pulling out a gift from the bag. kirishima hopped over to where bakugou was sitting and accepted the gift with a big smile on his face.

“whoa, bakugou! you're my secret santa?!” he asked in shock, eyes shining.

“it does says my name there, doesn't it, idiot? now hurry up and open your gift already,” kirishima did just that and bursted into tears when his gift was a crimson riot themed crocs. he thanked bakugou over and over while the latter hid his smile poorly with a cough.

“whatever. dunce face! you're next!” he practically threw kaminari's gift to him which the boy almost failed to catch, earning him a snigger from the explosive boy.

“man, why do you gotta be the santa for christmas? you're cruel!” kaminari pouted, turning around to go back to where he was squished in between sero and mineta.

“you got a problem with that, dunce face?!” he growled, his palms crackling with his quirk. kirishima tried to diffuse his anger.

when everything is calm, bakugou proceeded to dig into the bag for gifts.

“here, you shitty nerd.” he tossed your gift to izuku, you almost yelped a ‘be careful!’ but izuku had great reflexes and caught your gift swiftly. his eyes widened when he read who his secret santa was. your eyes met each other but was abruptly cut off when bakugou called your name.

“y/n! here's yours,” he was oddly calm when handing you your gift, albeit a little bored.

that received a lot of complaints from your other classmates and you can only shake your head while chuckling at their antics.

deciding to get some time for yourself, you went to the balcony for some air and sat down on one of the steps at the entrance.

placing the gift on your lap, you read the tag attached to it. it was wrapped in a simple green wrapper with red ribbon that finished the look.

to: y/n

happy holidays!

from: D

the name made you curious and even if you hated yourself for it, lit a sparkle of hope inside yourself. what if it was him who gave you the gift?

you had no time to dwell much on the thought and opened the gift instead. your breath hitched in your throat as you recognized the familiar box. lifting the lid with shaky hands, you felt your eyes sting as you looked down at your gift.

it was the necklace that izuku showed you before. you were such an idiot for thinking it was for someone special and did not think it was for the secret santa.

you carefully lifted it in your fingers and the light from the inside catched the D attached to it. it was beautiful. izuku's words echoed inside your head.

“i just thought that if i gave it to them then that means i'm with them wherever they are,”

“did you...not like it?” the boy in question appeared beside you and upon noticing your tears on your face, he immediately thought it gave a negative effect.

gasping, you quickly wiped away your tears and shook your head wildly at him.

“izu, no! i-i love it! actually, it's kinda funny...”

“funny?” he tilted his head in confusion, concern still etched onto his face.

“i was sad that you care a lot about someone else to give them this wonderful gift. i didn't realize that you would give something like this...to me,” you laughed through your tears, sniffling a bit.

“why would you think that?” his voice is so soft and genuinely confused that you can't help but feel your heart beat even more, and fall for him harder than you should.

“because,” you think of a way to word your feelings better but instead what came out was, “you're you and i'm...me,”

it was stupid, but with the overflowing emotions you're feeling right now, it's hard to voice your emotions.

izuku huffed, his cheeks puffing up once again because of the action.

“what do you mean by that? i mean, you're the most amazing person i've ever met! and you're always there for me when i'm sad, and happy and-and...whenever i'm with you, i always feel this...this...warmth! it's like, when you come home after a long day and you just felt safe and comforted. or-or when my mom cooks my favorite food it just makes me feel fuzzy inside! it's like when i watch my favorite video of all might over and over again and i never get tired of it,” he sighed after his long speech, eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he stared at you with determination.

“what i'm getting at is...i care a lot about you, y/n.” he let out in one breath. he stared up at you with big eyes, those damn eyes that never failed to make your heart jump and stomach do flips.

chuckling at yourself, you raised both of your hands and squeezed his cheeks with all your might making him yelp in pain.

“ow! y/n...” he whined.

“sorry, sorry! i've always wanted to do that!” you snorted.

“i care a lot about you, too, izu–” he suddenly kissed the corner of your mouth, making you shut up in shock. he had a smirk on his lips, amused by your reaction.

“i've always wanted to do that,” he threw your words back at you. feeling your whole face heat up, you turned your back towards him and held out your hand holding the necklace.

“whatever! just help me put this on, will you?” you felt his hands take the necklace from your grasp. you shivered when you felt the cold metal touch your skin but it was quickly replaced by his warm hands.

“there.” he mumbled, voice far too close to your ear. before you can thank him, you felt his lips brush your nape where the lock was and squealed from the contact.

the idiot only laughed at this and ushered you to stand up, helping you to your feet.

“let's go back inside, i heard they prepared a lot of food today.”

without thinking, izuku grabbed your hand and led you inside the dorm. you could only let him drag you as you stared at your joined hands, playing with the necklace hanging on your neck before staring back up at izuku who's smiling at you.

he's the best gift that you could ever ask for.

#💫.izuku midoriya #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x y/n #izuku midoriya #my hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #tarou writes 🌹

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

The Mistletoe

Author: @eiramrelyat

Prompt: Hey! I have an everlark prompt: kissing under the mistletoe. Do with it what you will :) [submitted by @askclato]

Rating: T

Author’s Notes: Thank you for the prompt @askclato, and I’d also like to thank my husband and @mandelion82 for helping me create the finishing touches. Enjoy!

_________

Katniss hated parties, specifically Gale’s. They were always loud and crowded to the point where you couldn’t move or think. And she knew this one would be worse considering college students were out on Christmas break.

She’d made every excuse not to go, even as Madge pulled her onto her pink vanity chair and started curling her hair. Madge quickly pointed out that college boys would be attending. Not that Katniss really cared about what percentage of Panem’s male population would be there.

Except, she kind of did care, but only about one boy in particular.

“Peeta will be there,” Madge had suggested, making eye contact with her in the mirror.

Of course, her friend would use this as leverage.

But Peeta would never actually notice her. He was a college sophomore and popular. And unlike all of the other girls she typically saw flocked around him, Katniss felt too plain…and she clammed up in large social settings. They were more like Madge⎯pretty, outgoing, and most likely on the cheer squad. He probably didn’t even know her name, even though they had shared the same homeroom period for three years.

So, the extra attention Madge took to Katniss’s hair and outfit almost felt like a waste.

She parked her car in front of Gale’s house and waited as Madge applied a second coat of shiny gloss to her lips in the small visor mirror. It made her lips look overly wet to the point that it almost looked like they were covered in drool. And when Katniss told her this, Madge merely rolled her eyes and said it was part of her look⎯whatever that meant. She wasn’t dressed any differently than usual, aside from the low-cut cashmere sweater clinging to her upper half like a second skin.

Madge never did things in halves.

“Don’t you think this is a bit… excessive?” she asked while Madge touched up her blush. “You already know that half of the football team at school likes you.”

“I think you are over-exaggerating,” Madge said, snapping the visor closed before tossing her makeup into her purse. “Okay, ready?”

“We can still go back and watch Christmas movies like we’ve been doing for the past six years,” Katniss said as a last-ditch effort.

Madge turned in her seat to give Katniss an incredulous expression. “This will be our first college party! Don’t you want to know what they’re like?”

“Yeah, when we’re in college,” she grumbled. “We’re still seniors in high school. Surely, five months isn’t that long of a wait.”

“C'mon, Katniss,” Madge pouted. “Please, just this once?”

She hated when Madge used that face on her.

“Fine, but I don’t want to be there too long,” Katniss relented, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the car door.

She tugged on the sleeves of her sweater as they walked up the front porch steps of Gale’s house. The bass from the music inside thrummed under her boots, stirring something sour in her stomach. Gale greeted them at the door, his booming voice echoing through the front yard. He stepped aside for them to step into the entryway, and Katniss froze slightly when she saw who was standing behind him.

Peeta smiled at them, a simple flash of perfect white teeth that made her breath stutter. And if his beautiful smile wasn’t enough, the dark green button-up stretching across the broad expanse of his chest rendered her mute.

Katniss pretended to be busy, herself, tapping the snow off her boots to distract herself from gawking at him.

“I can’t believe you managed to pull Katniss away from her books and reindeer slippers,” Gale told Madge with a laugh. Her friend giggled, shrugging her shoulders, and Katniss felt her face growing hot.

“Shut up, you two,” she snapped, inadvertently making eye contact with Peeta, who gave her a small smile.

“Reindeer slippers?” he asked with interest, and Katniss couldn’t tell if he was teasing her. Furthermore, she couldn’t believe he was even talking to her.

“They were a gift,” she mumbled.

The smile on Peeta’s lips grew. “That’s cute.”

Katniss smiled nervously, unable to hold his gaze. “Uh, thank you.”

“Let’s get you ladies something to drink,” Gale said, then tossed his arms across her and Madge’s shoulders, leading them toward his cramped kitchen, Peeta trailing not far behind.

“Gale, you’re squishing my hair,” Madge grumbled and swatted at his hand to get him to remove his arm.

“What? I think it still looks great,” he told her, and Katniss didn’t miss the light hint of pink that colored Madge’s cheeks. Her friends’ relationship with each other always managed to confuse her.

They dated when Gale was still in high school, and then they had a mutual break-up when he left for college because Madge didn’t want a long-distance relationship. But ever since he moved back home last year, Katniss noticed that Madge seemed to spend a lot of time with him again. For a while, she thought they were back together. Then she saw Gale posting cringey photos with a girl on Instagram a few weeks ago⎯she hadn’t been able to erase the image of Gale’s tongue in that girl’s mouth from her brain since. Katniss wouldn’t be shocked if Madge’s whole college boy thing was just a ruse to make Gale jealous. In fact, it seemed exactly like the type of thing her friend would do.

Truthfully, though, it sounded like a lot of work to go through to get someone to notice you, but who was she to judge? She curled her hair⎯which she never did⎯and actually tried wearing something other than her tattered denim jacket and black jeans just so Peeta might talk to her.

Still, she thought her friends were acting like idiots.

In the kitchen, stacks of pizza boxes lined the counter, along with bottles and cans of alcohol in multiple varieties. You would never know that Gale was hosting a holiday-themed party if it wasn’t for the pitiful-looking mistletoe hanging above the sink by a piece of duct tape. Katniss couldn’t say that she was surprised, to say the least.

And leave it to Gale to showcase his lack of decorating skills.

Peeta opened the fridge, flicking his eyes toward them. “We have Coke or water. Pick your poison.”

“That’s okay. I’m having whatever is in the punch bowl.” Madge nodded toward a bowl on the counter filled with a green concoction, and Gale reached up into a cupboard to grab a red solo cup.

“Your parents will kill me if they find out I gave you alcohol,” Gale muttered to her.

Then Peeta looked over at Katniss. “And you?” Under his stare, Katniss flushed, fumbling over her words when she asked for the Coke. Peeta crouched down to pull open the bottom fridge drawer for a can, then he held it out to her. “Here you go.” Katniss stepped away from Gale’s side, grabbing it from him and blushing when their finger touched.

She tried not to make a big show out of it, even if it made her heart rate spike. “Thank you,” she told him, pushing her hair behind her ear. This earned her another one of his beautiful smiles. God, she was so pathetic.

Forty minutes went by, and Katniss found it easier to talk to Peeta⎯not that she gave more than a few one-syllable answers. Still, her heart no longer leaped in her throat when he’d turn and ask her a question, nor did she clam up when he decided to stand next to her. But, of course, Madge had to ruin the moment.

“Oh, look, you’re both under the mistletoe,” she said, words slightly slurred as she tilted her cup toward the dainty thing above their heads.

Peeta looked up in the direction Madge was pointing, blond curls sliding off his forehead from the angle. Katniss took that moment to glare at her friend, who knew all too well about her crush on Peeta, then glanced over at him. “Uh, it’s just a plant. You don’t have to do anything,” she told him shyly.

He regarded her with amusement, his mouth tilting up. “Did you know refusing a kiss under the mistletoe is bad luck?”

“Oh?” She wanted to cringe when her voice broke from nerves, though she wasn’t quite expecting him to play along with Madge.

Peeta leaned against the counter. “Yeah, but it might only be a superstition. Like when Gale wears polka dot underwear to help his football team win,” he said, shrugging. “Who knows.”

“Hey,” Gale said, frowning.

As if Peeta didn’t already think she was daft, she said, “Oh. I, um…Oh.” It made it worse that Madge and Gale were watching her make a fool of herself, and she really wanted to tell them to go away.

The look of embarrassment on her face made Peeta shake his head, chuckling to himself. “You don’t have to kiss me. I was only joking, Katniss.”

“Mellark! Hawthorne! We’re starting a game of flip cup⎯if you want to join?”

They all looked toward the threshold to the kitchen where a stocky redhead with a plastic cup stood. He tilted back whatever was inside and tossed it in a garbage bag that hung off of a kitchen drawer, then waved at them.

“I’m in,” Gale called back, pulling Madge along behind him. “Come on, Peet!”

Peeta turned, nodding at Gale. “I’ll be right there. Give me a sec.”

Her friends were gone; now was her chance. “Okay,” she told him, pushing her bangs out of her face. “I’ll kiss you.”

He smiled down at her. “Katniss, really, you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she said, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt.

He raised an eyebrow, studying her face for any hesitation. When he found none, his hand came up and gently caressed her jaw. “Okay,” Peeta finally agreed and tilted her face to the side.

But Katniss was disappointed once she realized he wasn’t going to give her a real kiss like she’d anticipated…and the bold part of her didn’t want to settle with anything less. So when Peeta started to lean in, she turned her head before he could reach her cheek and pressed her lips against his. She closed her eyes tightly when she heard him gasp⎯too scared to look at his face at that moment.

It felt like they were like that forever; her heart fluttering wildly in her chest as Peeta didn’t move to initiate anything further. Embarrassed, she pulled away, but his fingers held her fast, and then his lips moved beneath hers. She managed a soft, quick inhale while her stomach rippled in excitement. Oh god, Peeta Mellark was kissing her back. She’d probably squeal if her mouth wasn’t otherwise preoccupied.

His hand came up and ran through her hair, causing her to squeak in surprise. It wasn’t her first kiss (the first time was with a boy from eighth grade who she couldn’t remember the name of at the moment), but it was the first that made her light-headed and had her toes curling in her boots.

When he pulled away, she bit the inside of her cheek at the sight of how dark and swollen his lips were. She released a shaky breath, knowing she was the one who did that.

He flashed her a crooked smile. “You know, I like it when you wear your hair down.”

Her throat felt tight all of a sudden. “I…um, thank you.”

“I better go before Gale comes back,” he said, and Katniss nodded her head dumbly. She watched him walk out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Katniss wasn’t sure what shocked her more⎯that Peeta had actually noticed her during homeroom, or that she could still faintly feel his soft lips against hers.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #winter #winter 2020 #eiramrelyat #submission #prompt

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gracedpersassonality · 3 years

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The Best Present - A Little Christmas Story

I wish we were kissing under mistletoe

The stars on the sky just can't match your glow

Now I can't wait 'til you're by my side

We'll be warm by the fire all night, oh

I wanna hold you while the bells are all ringing

Want you to be here while the angel's singing

Days are perfect when I got you near

My only wish is you here

Christmas Without You - Ava Max

The snow was slowly falling in big white flakes to the ground and covered everything with a beautiful thick coat. The streets were empty and everything was peaceful silent. Percy was shivering from the cold and pulled his scarf a bit tighter. He was running late as usual. Leo invited all of them for Christmas eve to his home like he did every year. He loved the tradition. And the food. And the decorations. And the fact that mostly everyone of their friends was able to come. It was far too seldom that all of them saw each other.

Percy went a bit faster which wasn't easy because the floor was icy and slippery and he was carrying his Secret Santa present for Annabeth in both hands and balanced the blue homemade chocolate chip cookies from his mother on top of it.

He almost made it safe to Leo's front door. Almost. On the path to the house was ice under the snow and Percy slipped, pressing the gift and the cookies to his chest, trying to catch himself. "Woah! Watch out!" Jason shouted before he grabbed him in the last second and made him standing still again. "Gotcha" he chuckled.

"Oh gods thank you. You saved me and the cookies." Percy said breathless.

"For the sake of the cookies look where you're going the next time." Jason joked.

"Yes... You're right. The next time I just fly to the door. No big deal." Percy replied sarcastically looking into Jason's bright blue eyes. They sparkled in the Christmas lights and reflected all the different colours. Percy can't help it and a goofy grin spread over his face which Jason mirrored. The snowflakes has covered Jason's blond hair, which made it look white and his cheeks where light red from the cold. This was one of these moments Percy got totally lost. He just want to take a picture and framed it that's how beautiful Jason looks in these light.

He was shaking his head to clear his mind, he was getting creepy again. He really had fallen for Jason in the last year. There were these moments when they looked at each other a second too long or when they touched accidentally. But it never happend more than this. They never cross the line that would end their friendship. Percy still waited for the perfect moment to confess his love. He was to afraid that he just interpreted too much in their interactions. Maybe Jason was just too dense to get the hints Percy dropped time by time. Maybe Percy was just wishing that Jason always seemed to making excuses to touch him or be in his near.

Jason cleared his throat. "Maybe we should go inside."

It took it's time till Percy realised what Jason said. " Yeah I guess so." But both didn't move. They still locked their eyes, smiling like idiots and no one want to look away first. It hit him like a sudden and blinding realization and it dawned to him. This moment seemed to be perfect. "Uhm, Jason? I have to tell you something." Suddenly he was getting really nervous. What if Jason didn't feel the same? Would he believe him? What if he even laugh at him? What if Percy was about to destroy their friendship right now? Maybe he should wait with it after the party. Then he wouldn't ruin it by make it awkward at least. He felt like a coward. He just was searching for excuses.

"What now? Say what's on your mind." Jason face turned serious.

He got an urgent feeling of throwing up. "It's freaking cold and I'm freezing. Let's go inside. Why doesn't the cold bother you too?" He said laughing. Hopefully Jason didn't hear that it was forced. Yep, he definitely was a coward.

They knocked at the with ornaments decorated door and Hazel opened it. The smell of pine, cinnamon and hot chocolate filled the cold evening air and Christmas songs are played in the background. "Ah there you are, we're finally complete. You two are late. What happened?"

"Nothing" Percy said a little bit too fast as he entered the house, hoping that everyone attributed his red face to the change from the cold outside to the warm inside.

"Percy's just being clumsy not more", Jason laughed and entered the house as well.

Both took off their thick coats and scarfs and hang them on the wardrobe. "Nice sweater Percy" Jason teased him.

"I can only give that back." Two years ago Jason had Percy as his secret santa and he got the ugliest sweater Percy could found. It was baby blue with lighting bolts on it which actually can blink. The next year Percy got his payback. Jason bought him a green sweater with tiny waves on it. There were also a button which caused an awful sung christmas song when it was pressed. Percy secretly loved it.

Hazel led them to living room. They were welcomed by 'Merry Christmas Everyone' that was blasted by Leo's sound system. Percy couldn't stop to be surprised how much efford Leo put in the decorations every year. And he tops himself year by year. There was a huge christmas tree with every kind of decoration you could put on. The whole room had it's own christmas themed light installation and Percy really become worried that all of this would end in a short circuit.

The whole crew was spread out in the room. Frank, Reyna and Piper were sitting on the couch chatting and eating from the with sweets filled plates in front of them. Leo and Annabeth standing in the corner bowed over some cables and it seems like he was explaining how he managed the power distribution. Grover, Will and Rachel were standing in front of the music system singing along. Only Thalia wasn't there. She was on the other side of the country and didn't make it this year.

Jason and Percy put their presents under the tree while Hazel took the cookies and put them in the kitchen. As she came back she shoved Nico in the room with the words "You can't stay in there forever." "But there I don't have to deal with all these happy people." He mumbled, but everyone knows that Nico secretly was enjoying the Christmas Partys.

"I'm going to grab us some hot chocolate" Jason declared and vanished in the kitchen. He came back with two steaming cups. Percy has joined their friends on the couch and so did Jason. As he recognized that there were only blue marshmallows in his cup, a smile stole on his face again. He was always smiling when Jason was around.

And so the time passed away with a lot of laughter, crooked sung songs and many happy faces. Even Nico smiled from time to time and everyone was filled with love for their friends.

After everyone had handed over the presents, Percy just leaned back and enjoyed the scene which was chaotic as usual. Annabeth already has started to read in one of the books Percy got her, while Leo was leaning over her shoulder and pointed at something in the book. His socks he got from Grover were flashing like a Christmas tree. Frank with his new purple sweater from Reyna was about to put a necklace around Hazel's neck. Jason gave Nico a new necklace as well and Rachel got a new sketchbook set from Piper and was about to draw her sitting under the Christmas tree. She was reading the voucher she got from Will and Reyna got a new pair of dog leashes and collars from Annabeth. Will was presenting his new shirt from Hazel which fits the one Nico was wearing. Rachel's gift for Grover was a new pair of shoes she has customized. Leo tried to get Thalia home for Christmas but it wasn't possible so he organized a video call for Jason as a compromise solution. And Percy has to keep himself from starring at Jason who was laughing with his sister. Little tears of joy in the corner of his eyes. He himself received new gloves and a matching scarf from Nico.

He was so happy that he can count so many people as his friends. No they were more than friends. This was his second family. And he knew that everyone was feeling the same.

After some time has passed, Jason ended the call and looked a bit sad for a moment, but quickly recovered. His sister was the only one left from his family and it was the first time he was supposed to be alone on Christmas and new year. Percy leaned over to Jason and whispered: "Don't tell anyone but remember me to give you your Christmas gift when we are leaving." Maybe it was against the rules of Secret Santa but he couldn't stop himself to get Jason a present as well.

"That's not fair! I haven't a present for you." He whispered back.

"Nah it's fine. It didn't cost anything so it's totally okay"

"So you made it by yourself? Now I want to know what it is."

"You will see." Percy made his troublemaker smile and looked into Jason prying eyes.

"Hey you two lovebirds, " Reyna interrupted their eye contact with a snap and both turned their heads towards her, "I've asked if you want to play charade with us but you seem to be busy."

"No no. I would love to play! What about you Jase?"

"I'm in!"

Laughter filled the house and in the end nobody knew who won.

It was late. Very very late. Well past midnight. Maybe Percy fall asleep once or twice, he wasn't really sure by himself. "Maybe I should go home soon", he declared with a yawn, his head resting on Jason's shoulder.

"Yeah me too." Jason shifted a bit, so he can look in Percy's tired eyes. "I drive you home. It's cold and dark outside and I don't accept a 'No'."

Percy knew he didn't have a chance to deny. Jason could be very stubborn when it come to situations like this. So he didn't resist and as a bonus he has time to give Jason his gift. After a lot of hugs they were driving to Percy's.

"So the present I was talking about... You still alone on Christmas?" Percy asked softly.

"Yeah but it doesn't matter I'm fine, just having myself a little Merry Christmas you know" Everybody would believe him but not Percy. Jason's voice was a tiny bit rougher than normal.

He could feel his heart nervously beating in his chest. "You can stay with us. I asked mom already and she said she would be very happy if you would join us."

"No I can't." Percy felt his heart stutter. He planned this since he knew that Thalia wouldn't make it. Nobody should be alone. Especially not Jason.

"Why not?"

"It's your family and I don't have any presents. I can't crash Christmas without presents."

Percy let out a released laugh. "That's what you are worried about? Well than you can come with me. I bought too many gifts anyways. We just change the tags. And for me it's really enough when you celebrate with us. How about that?"

A defeated smile stole on Jason's face. "Only if I can give you your money back."

"Alright. If you want to drive home first, you need to pack your things, you can stay at my home. It's already late and so you can't oversleep. " in the joy of Jason saying Yes he invited him spontaneously but regretted it right after saying it. He didn't want to overdo it so hopefully it wasn't a big deal for Jason.

"Unlike you I never oversleep but I would love to stay at your's"

Percy looked with a wide smile outside the car window. This was one was on it's best way to be the best Christmas ever.

As they were finally parking by Percy's mom it's started to snow again. Luckily they didn't have to drive anymore. His house wasn't decorated like Leo's but at least there were Christmas lights and one look at Jason was enough to be reminded of earlier this day. His eyes, it were always his eyes that made Percy fall in love with him a little more. And the way he was smiling at this moment brightened his heart. “You know this is one of the best presents I ever could get? I thought I would be lonely on Christmas." There were tears in his eyes and without thinking Percy hugged him.

"Nobody deserves to be alone if they doesn't want to. And I am so happy you are here with me."

"Thank you." Jason voice cracked and he cleard his throat. Percy let go and before he could start a second try to confess his love he pulled out his key awkwardly and said: "You don't have to thank me. But I'm freezing, let's get inside." At which point in his life he turned in this little coward? The problem was Jason was way too important for him and he didn't want to lose him.

"I guess my family already fall asleep, so we have to be silent." Percy whispered as he opened the door. They entered the house and walked as quiet as possible through the hallway till Jason suddenly stopped.

"You okay?" Percy turned around an looked at him. He seemed to be a bit nervous. Maybe he was afraid what his family could say.

After not answering his question Percy tried to calm Jason. "Hey, you don't have to be afraid or something. My family knows that you are coming with me. And especially Estelle is glad to see you."

"Yeah I know, that's not the problem."

"Then what is it?" Percy started to getting nervous too. What if Jason didn't want to be here and was just too polite to deny and now he regretted it? But Jason seemed so happy to be here a few seconds ago. So what was making him so nervous?

"Look up." He didn't suspect this reply at all and look at the ceiling in confusion.

A mistletoe. There was a mistletoe above him and while Percy still was wondering why it was there, because his mom never hung up one, Jason take a step towards Percy. Percy slowly look back to Jason. He could feel his heart beating in his chest. Jason was starring on his lips. He couldn´t breathe. He couldn´t think. With a glance in his eyes Jason made sure if Percy was okay with this and finally overcome the last few centimeters. Cross the line of their friendship.

And then he kissed him.

Once, twice and then a third time. They couldn´t stop and soon it happend that Jsaon was pressing Percy against the wall. It taste like Christmas and chocolate and it felt like finally coming home.

They only broke away from each other to catch a breath. Jason leaned his forehead against Percy's, while their hearts were racing, both with a big smile on their face and a little bit of disbelive in their eyes. Like this was a wonderful dream. "Merry Christmas, Percy." Jason whispered.

Percy was way too overwhelmed to reply but one glance was enough to know this wasn't just a kiss under the mistletoe. This kiss was the certainty that his feelings wasn't one-sided. This kiss was all he ever wanted. And this kiss was the best present he ever could get for Christmas.

#jercy #percy and jason #jason and percy #jason grace #percy jackson #and yes I still don't know how to use the tags correctly 😂#There is a chance that I wrote the first 1000 words in the end of May and yes I listen to Christmas music in the summer and I'm proud of it

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aliciameade · 4 years

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A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there.

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

#bechloe #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #fanfic

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la-plus-heureuse-writer · 4 years

Text

Sirius’s Splendid Christmas Set-Up

JILY CHALLENGE December 2019 | @la-plus-heureuse-writer v @just-a-teen-fangirl

Theme: Winter Prompts

Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and oh my gOD i’m sO sorry jily au

——————————————

“You did what?” James stared at Sirius, who looked very pleased with himself.

“Evans was mentioning that Christmas would be hard this year, so I told her we’d be happy to have her.” Sirius gave an enormous, shit-eating grin. “Mum agrees.”

“I do like Lily very much,” Mum said, and ruffled James’ hair. James stepped aside and tried to fix his hair, scowling.

“You should go out with a girl like Lily Evans,” Dad said, lowering his newspaper across the room. “She’d be good for you. Help you settle down.”

“She’s going to think I set you up to this,” James said. He spent enough time trying not to think about how Lily would be good for him. He didn’t need his family to help him.

“Nonsense,” Mum said. “We’ll be on our best behavior. I wouldn’t dream of sabotaging your relationship with Charlotte.”

Charlotte was Charlotte Fay, who claimed that she was descended from Morgana le Fay. She was beautiful, aristocratic, and flighty. She was also, as of two days ago, James’ ex-girlfriend.

Sirius opened his mouth to correct the impression and James elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“James!” Mum scolded. “There is no reason for you to take your annoyance out on Sirius.”

“Right,” James said, glaring at Sirius. “No reason at all. Why didn’t you invite Moony and Worms if we’re inviting people over?”

“They were busy with their families,” Sirius said in a lofty voice. “You know how important family is around the holiday.” Mum went and hugged Sirius. Sirius had been surprisingly quiet throughout the Christmas holiday so far. James’ frustration with his best mate softened. He was probably thinking of Regulus.

“That’s right,” Mum said. “Family matters.” She looked directly at James.

“Fine,” James said. “But no comments on my dating life.”

“I would never,” said Sirius. Behind the newspaper Dad snorted.

Sirius took charge of all the plans, approving a goose and suggesting that perhaps they roast, not boil, the brussels sprouts this year. James kept out of the way. He found he could spend hours in the air, drilling himself through the ever-shifting magical obstacle course that his Dad had arranged to be set up outside Godric’s Hollow. It helped his mood to come back tired and hungry and not thinking of Lily.

Lily Evans. Clever at charms and potions. Lily Evans, who was kind to everyone and didn’t take shit from anyone. Lily Evans, who he had been in love with for years.

On Christmas Eve over cocoa and shortbread Sirius informed the family that Lily would be arriving tomorrow at three.

“Great,” James said, trying to sound bored by the whole thing.

“And we will be on our best behavior, my dear,” Dad said, taking a great sip of cocoa. The whipped cream in his mug was so high that it almost obscured his white mustache.

“Of course, Fleamont,” Mum said warmly. “We wouldn’t want to embarrass James.”

“We would never want to embarrass Jamesy, now would we?” Dad said. James rolled his eyes.

At ten minutes to three on Christmas Day, there was a crack outside the door then a knock. Lily Evans had arrived.

“Hullo,” she said, holding something wrapped in crumpled looking silver paper. She glanced nervously around, beaming at Sirius and giving James a tentative smile. He smiled back. Mum saw.

“Hello Lily dear, and welcome,” she said. Dad stepped forward and took the parcel, which Lily informed them was a loaf of her gram’s brown bread- an old family recipe. Sirius offered to take Lily’s coat. Under her tidy black coat Lily was wearing a smart blouse, a red skirt, and a pair of stockings. Her skirt was just a bit shorter than James expected. He wondered if it was a deliberate choice, because she had beautiful legs. Lily saw James’ eyes linger and she flushed. James swallowed hard. He didn’t even have to say anything to embarrass both of them.

“Can I get you a drink, Lily?” he said, trying to sound collected. “We have elf made wine, firewhiskey, butterbear…” he trailed off.

Lily furrowed her brow. “Maybe- maybe a gillywater. With a splash of cranberry if you have it.”

“Right,” James said and went off to the sitting room where they kept the alcohol. Mum was showing Lily about the house. He poured her drink, the fizzy gillywater mixed with the cranberry cordial and ice. And he poured himself a dram of firewhiskey. He had a feeling he’d need it.

The door opened. “Is that for me?” Lily was there, and she was alone.

James smiled at her. “It is.” He handed it to her and watched as she took her first sip. Her eyes closed as she swallowed. She was so lovely it almost hurt.

“I'm sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what? For inviting me? I was a little surprised to get the invitation from you and then only hear from Sirius after.”

“What?” James sputtered. He raked his hand through his hair. “That dog. I’m going to kill him.”

Lily laughed, a bright sound. “I’m kidding. Sirius invited me. Although he might have alluded to you wanting to see me too.”

James’s heart started beating again.”That’s not funny.”

“It’s very funny,” Lily said, and James smiled at her.

“Fine. But no, I’m sorry for my family. They’ve decided we would be good together. You’ll have to endure plenty of amateur matchmaking today.”

“Are you certain it’s amateur?” Lily said. “Because I can withstand an amateur. If it’s advanced matchmaking, I can’t promise how it will turn out.”

James laughed. He was supposed to be the one to make her laugh. “Very amateur. Promise.”

“Well, then, we’ll have to be allies in withstanding their advances.”

Having Lily as his ally worked much better than having her as his enemy. When Dad commented about James’ most recent Quidditch game, Lily smiled and started to detail one of his recent games. When Sirius started talking about transfiguration, Lily sighed and said she wished that she was as good at transfiguration as James was. It was a brilliant strategy. Just let them think they were winning, and then they didn’t have to resist them. It made the whole dinner enjoyable

The food was delicious, Sirius’ efforts all being well worth it. James was making the whole table laugh. Dad was pouring elf-made wine for everyone, and Lily’s brown bread turned out to be a sweet. A very good sweet, which she insisted that they all eat with a spread of butter. James raked his hand through his hair, feeling more relaxed than he had thought he could.

Dad saw him. “Jamie, when are you going to cut all that hair?”

“Never,” James said, and flashed him a smile.

Dad shook his head. “My own son, making a mockery of my life’s work. Lily, don’t you think that James would look nice with a haircut?”

Lily flushed. “I- I think that James looks quite nice now.” She hurriedly looked down at her plate. Dad started to complain about the cost of potions ingredients instead. James heard almost nothing of it.

They went to the sitting room to have their annual Christmas Mischievous Mancala tournament, where the stones were likely to disappear at any point. Lily was quiet. James caught her eye and she gave a sheepish smile.

James tried to stop the racing thoughts. He and Lily could maybe be friends, nothing more. Just because he liked her did not mean she would like him. Instead he focused on watching the game between Sirius and Lily.

One stone remained in Sirius’ tray, and then suddenly all of Lily’s stones disappeared.

“Victory!” he crowed.

“Luck,” Lily argued.

“As all victory is,” Sirius said, and the clock chimed nine.

“I should be going,” Lily said. James stood.

“I’ll show you out,” he said. He fetched their coats and they walked out into the front garden.

“It was very nice of your family to have me over,” Lily said.

“I’m glad you came. I’m sorry we kept you from your family,” James said.

“My family went to my sister’s fiance's home, and he’s wretched.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I was grateful for the excuse. You’re lucky, you know. Your family is really- loving.”

“They were all on their best behavior playing matchmaker,” James said. “So thanks for being a good sport.”

“It was fun,” Lily said. She hesitated. “I would have thought Charlotte would have been here.”

“We broke up. Right at the start of the holiday.”

“Oh,” Lily said, and her eyes grew wide. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.” She was offering sympathy. Like a friend would. Easy to respond to.

“I’m not,” James said, feeling bold. Lily’s eyes darkened.

“Well then,” Lily said, and she swiftly stepped forward and kissed him.

Her lips were gentle and warm, but the kiss was firm. Just like Lily. Strong and soft all in one, with a gentle heart and an iron will. She broke the kiss off, and stepped back, catching his eyes.

“I hope that wasn’t inappropriate,” she said. “I just-”

“Lily,” James said. His voice sounded ragged. He pulled her back towards her and kissed her again, reveling in the feeling of her.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Lily asked after a long kiss.

“Nothing,” James said. He would change any plan for her.

“Come over to mine. My sister and her fiance are perfectly dreadful, and I’d like to introduce them to my dastardly wizard boyfriend.”

“Am I your boyfriend?” James tried to joke, but his heart felt like he was flying.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he said, and kissed her again.

When James went back inside Mum and Dad were pretending to read. Sirius was building a card castle.

“You were out there long,” Sirius said, arching a languid eyebrow at James.

“Shove it.” James was too happy to have real emphasis behind the words.

“I’m happy for you, Jamie,” Mum said. “I knew that it was only a matter of time when I heard you had broken up with that Charlotte girl.”

Sirius shrugged at James’s accusatory look. “Can’t keep things from your family, mate. Merry Christmas and all.”

“Merry Christmas,” James said, not able to even pretend to be mad, his heart still light.

#jilychallenge #just-a-teen-fangirl #jily #matchmaking au #christmas fluff #james potter #lily evas #james potter x lily evans #james is in love with lily #as he is every time i write him

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personaconcept · 4 years

Text

Outfits and Menu

Master Post

Was messing around and tried to make my vision of a start-up menu for Persona 6. The characters I used are only stand ins until I can get all my character art bought.

And now, I have made some more outfits for the main characters! I also have some for the rest of the confidants, but I’m going to wait to put all of those on a separate post.

Hikari & Hikaru Iyashi Theater Costumes

Both Hikari and Hikaru play Puck, the mischievous fairy. Not all potions would be included.

This was a really hard to find the names of characters, but they both play the main character, who comes to terms with inevitability and death through a dream.

I thought about having them play two separate character, but decided it would be better if they only played the one, so they play Thantos, the Greek God of Death.

This one is a little impossible for me to have them play the same character, so I decided to not. Hikari plays Jo while Hikaru plays Laurie.

I admit to knowing little of the game, so I designed them both to side characters.

Aoi no Ue, if you don’t know, is a play about harem infighting. I had little problem with making Hikaru the husband and Hikari one of the wives seeing as neither can exist in the same timeline.

At the moment, the plot of The Changeling escapes me, and there is no easy way to explain it. Both Hikari and Hikaru have side parts.

The entire reason I have a maid uniform for Hikaru is because Madame de Sade is completely made up of female characters and I couldn’t decide if I wanted him to cross-dress or not.

Hikari Iyashi

Are the Christmas outfits and excuse to give them pretty outfits? Absolutely.

Hikaru Iyachi

That... is a hair band. I love anime men with their hair pulled out of their face with them. I am WEAK to it.

Sayaka Ito

Sayaka is one of the few characters that would willingly wear a bikini... however, due to laws in Japan, she can’t show off her tattoo at pools or beaches, so it’s simpler to just own the one piece that covers it up.

While most often girly and dorky, Sayaka has been called tomboyish and told she looks like a boy. So I gave her the male yukata to wear and be like “Yeah, and I pull off the look better than any male.”

As stated before, she works at the music store. They don’t have a super strict dress code, so she only needs to change out her shirt after school.

Sayaka lives with her foster parents in a temple. They are a priest and priestess, and she occasionally helps out to repay them.

Yudai Shinoda

Since his parents own Eatable, he helps out there sometimes.

Miyako Fujimori

The sweater thing is supposed to be patterned like that towel, and it’s sheer. I had to add it because canonically, there is only one outfit Miyako has short sleeves in, and this isn’t it. Also, fun fact, this is the only time Miyako has an umbrella. She enjoys the rain, so walked around in it without an umbrella. However, she does not like the sun because she burns easily.

This outfit, along with the swimsuit, were the hardest ones to find clothes for, mostly because I forgot about her “only wears short sleeves in one outfit” thing. I had to completely redo this outfit to compensate.

Masahio Oshiro

Hoshiko Akiyama

I had a very hard time finding a good dress for Hoshiko, as she has the red hair and very little goes with it. The pink would probably clash, the white is more part of Hikari/Hikaru’s theme, and the dark blue is more Miyako’s.

Jun Sanada

I’m aware I messed up. This is his swimsuit. That is a headband.

He’s... not the kind of character to go all out, but he’s not gonna just stand out when everyone else dressed up, either.

Messed up here too. This is his Christmas outfit. Though he regularly dresses like trash, Jun actually has a pretty good sense of style and cleans up nice.

Shinju Kawaguchi

The green thing is a towel that will be thrown over the back of Shinju’s chair. The black swimsuit will have the same blue/pink coloring as the other one, though possibly not quite so bright.

Instead of her regular bow, this thing one will take its place.

I simply couldn’t decide on which color I liked best for Shinju, though the blue will probably work best for her theme.

Ah, as a treat, I’ll let you know now. I’m currently working on a sneak peek video using the love confessions audio that I’ll upload to my YouTube channel and share the link here. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Master Post

#persona #persona series #persona 6 #persona 5 #persona 4 #persona 3

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moved-builtintripping · 4 years

Text

Watchful

FF.net / AO3

“A minor inconvenience provoked Dorothea to swear, and Ferdinand warns her of the grave consequences of bearing a dirty mouth, whose owner won't wake up with a gift ready to open under the tree on Christmas morning. Dorothea can't place whether her boyfriend wearing a worried pout, his index finger placed on his lips to shush his girlfriend, looked punchable or kissable.”

Modern AU fic for @stag-of-almyra, who requested me to write a fic based on a prompt list i reblogged for shits and giggles~ I mean I only write sometimes, but it’s fun anyway, sooooo i gave it a try for, yet again, shits and giggles uwu

Prompt is “ferdinand/dorothea + “careful, santa’s watching”

Also merry christmas again!!

***

“Oh, shit!”

Dorothea shrieked when her pinky toe hit the leg of one of the kitchen chairs, the incredibly horrible sensation harshly coursing through her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and repeatedly clicked her tongue as she brought her damaged foot in her hand as a fruitless attempt to ward off the tear-jerking soreness while her other hand gripped the edge of the table to balance herself. She might have bitterly spent her early childhood wandering the streets bare-footed, which meant stepping on the tiny littered glass shards of broken beer bottles and letting it sharply pierce through the sole of your feet had become second-nature to you. However, nothing could rival the indescribable pain of having one’s own pinky toe collide onto a hard surface.

“Be careful.”

A portion of her attention concentrating on her current anguish had redirected to Ferdinand’s worried voice. Had it not been for the unbearable stinging in her toe, she would guffaw and playfully swoon over the boy’s concern. Not that she was that touched by Ferdinand’s every sign of worry (or was she?), but come on, where’s the fun on reassuring your boyfriend on every passing second like in those cliché romantic dramas instead of exaggerating your partially-mock thankfulness for his fear for your safety like in those cliché romantic comedies?

When Dorothea regained enough strength (though she was fully convinced seconds ago that the sting could never recover), she cracked her eyes open to peek at Ferdinand, who’s supposed to be enjoying a nice cup of hot chocolate as he sat on the other side of the table. Instead of a mildly panicked look residing his cute face, she was greeted by what seemed to be Ferdinand shushing her, his index finger placed on his lips and his brows knitted so deep it could frighten Bernadetta until she falls for her (possibly literal) death, but never enough to win over Seteth-sensei’s classic disappointed glare.

Dorothea frowned back, her hand still clasping her aching foot. Before she could open her mouth, Ferdinand hissed through gritted teeth, “Santa Claus is watching.”

What?

Santa Claus is... watching?

Hold on a second, what on Earth had she done just now to disappoint Santa Claus? There’s nobody even at fault in this situation. Wasn’t she the one who’s even hurt here? And why was she wondering all of this nonsense and not Ferdinand bringing up that make-believe-

“You do know that he can listen to our every word and observe our every move at this very moment...” Ferdinand carefully said while lowering his finger from his mouth then took another sip of his drink, his amber eyes never leaving Dorothea’s.

Okay, Dorothea knew that Santa Claus watches over the children of the world like some creepy god to decide whether their stocking deserved to store candies or coals, she didn’t need Ferdinand to tell her that twice. That’s basic knowledge, even you wouldn’t catch an adult questioning the... questionable ways of the magical old man in red and white. Still, Ferdinand did not yet clarify her recent wrongdoing; it was starting to irritate her more than it should.

So Dorothea straightened up from her hunched posture, hands still not leaving her foot and the table, and deepened her scowl. On the back of her mind, she was somewhat impressed she managed to keep the scoff threatening to break free from her pouty mouth to herself. “And what did I do to have my name taken away from Santa’s ‘Good Girls’ list, if I may ask?”

“You just swore!” Ferdinand exclaimed with both his hands outstretched, nearly spilling his drink with a thunk at the process. When he caught his mug on time and muttered a small, ‘My bad,’ he continued rather sternly, “Surely you would know that Santa Claus does not appreciate children whose speech is littered with curses.”

Oh.

“Although you may have instinctively cursed out of inconvenience rather than insert one on your daily conversations, which I suppose is excusable, it will be wiser to still keep your language in check. Otherwise, he may not just gift you that chest box of ‘Elice’s Flavored Lip Balms’ you so desire to caress with your dainty hands for the past weeks.”

Oh.

Dorothea blinked and stared at Ferdinand. Judging by the frown (which now loosened a bit) that continued to camp on his stern expression, he didn’t look like the man to back down until his stand prevailed no matter how pointless the argument would transition into.

Was Ferdinand von Aegir seriously correcting her vulgar mouth to retain her name on the nonexistent ‘nice list’ as if the boy never outgrew the lies of the so-called Santa Claus’s miracles and all that make-believe bullshit those greedy adults crafted and tricked him into believing as a child for their personal amusement? After all, the boy carrying his unstained past was known to behave several years apart from her since highschool, emphasis on his boasting eagerness to prove his nobility among the crowd plus his one-sided petty rivalry with Edelgard.

Or was this just his way of playing dumb and teasing his girlfriend? She swore as Ferdinand scolded his girlfriend, she caught glimpse of a glint of endearment passing through his eyes that greatly contrasts his disapproving face and firm tone.

Perhaps it’s the latter. Six years of friendship would be a long enough time to memorize the other’s behavior. Like all boys, Ferdinand might have inherited his dense nature from his father, but his brain size didn’t match that of a dinosaur’s. Although he appeared death serious on the entire childish matter, people could easily pass him as a ten-year-old possessing a twenty-one-year-old man’s (hot) body.

She should feel pissed. The nerve of that boy for shutting her up on her most distressed moment. Idiot sounded like he never removed his stinking boots, let alone his pegasus-themed socks, to experience the agony of your own pinky toe threatening to rip off from your precious foot.

But why wasn’t she? Why couldn’t she snap back? Her head did not even steam one bit... and was that a wide toothy smile creeping up in her face?

While she did earn herself a boyfriend as a means to indulge in his constant love and attention her lonely six-year-old self would starve and die for, it’s these silly moments when she’ll gladly surrender to the big sister instincts taking over. All the disgusting men she testily answered to their attempt on courting the emerald-eyed songstress would always greedily invite her under their covers as soon as possible, but this grown man, who’s currently lecturing his friend just so she could earn the gift they both know well would never arrive, had been the first she found herself fondly pampering over despite the numerous naughty activities they’d nervously engaged in.

The hearty laugh that bubbled out of her mouth raced first before words could make it out first. Despite her overwhelmed emotions, she faintly heard Ferdinand stutter in confusion, “D-Dorothea?”

“Oh, Ferdie,” Dorothea purred and walked around the table to close the distance between both lovers. She raised Ferdinand’s chin with a thumb and silkily said, “I don’t need no present from Santa, you see~ Can’t you tell I’ve got all I need for Christmas right here?”

“Huh?” Ferdinand gawked up at her, not once picking up the signal of her flirty intentions. “Whatever do you mean? All the gifts we prepared for our dear friends are under the tree, isn’t it? But unless there is one hidden in here, surely the kitchen is an odd place to hide a present...”

Oh, Ferdie. So dumb and cute as ever. What a pair.

Holding back was out of the question now; she leaned down to kiss Ferdinand, who stiffened the second their lips touched. He tasted of the remains of his delicious sweet drink with a hint of bitterness mixed in. Without missing another beat, he then reciprocated without question.

Before the kiss could deepen that would lead both lovers shuffling towards the comforts of the sofa a few strides away, she licked the remains of the chocolate staining his upper lip before breaking away, a goofy grin sneaking its way into her features.

“Take a wild guess~” Dorothea winked and turned away, humming and skipping towards the countertop where the thermos stood, ready to serve more sweet sweet hot chocolate for the lovebirds. “Want some more?”

“Y-yes, please,” Ferdinand spluttered from behind, clearly flustered from the intimate gesture. How adorable. They’d lost count of the kisses they shared behind closed doors, yet it still left him awkwardly fumbling for words. If there was one wish Dorothea wanted for Santa to grant for her, it would be for the day her lover could compose himself quickly right after a kiss to never come.

Ferdinand pulled Dorothea out of her wishful thinking when he cleared his throat louder than necessary. “I appreciate your attempt on flattering me, my love. However, don’t kiss me as a distraction from lecturing you! It is my duty to help you maintain correct behavior under Santa Claus’s watchful eyes until the day of Christmas when you and I were to receive our respective gifts from Santa Claus under the tree, and...”

Dorothea sighed. This game wasn’t over for Ferdinand, was it? Oh, how she’d love to shut him up with another kiss and another and then another until he understood truly that the joy a colorfully wrapped box incite could never compare to the warm company of a loved one. For somebody, even just one person, to embrace Dorothea Arnault for who she was behind the flashy songstress title all the way to the scared and lonely child who used to bear the cruel world all by her tiny helpless self with her tiny helpless body, it’s all her she would ever ask for if she was going to be perfectly honest. She would sing for eternity how grateful she truly was, that she would still be able to spend Christmas the way she used to dream as she scraped for leftovers of yesterday’s holiday feast in the nearby trash bin and sulkily curl all on her own in the deepest depth of a snow-covered alleyway, freezing to near death as the festive world carried on.

All that was left forgotten was the pain in her pinky toe. Honestly, how could this boy not only heal her emptiness, but also her physical well-being? His magic surely matches to Santa Claus. Perhaps, she could input a rule where Mrs. Dorothea Claus may swear whenever she pleased without meeting the dire consequences of losing a gift on Christmas morning. Knowing Santa Ferdinand von Claus and his pure outlook on things, he would outright refuse.

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nuggets-and-french-fries · 4 years

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Taron Egerton: Merry Christmas Darling.

This is day 14 of the December imagines. This wasn’t exactly a request. It was a dream that I had and @sarahegerton96 helped me come up with a way to extend it. So go grab a snack and some hot chocolate and get ready to enjoy some major Taron fluffiness and of course a good dose of Taron smut.

Please Excuse the mistakes in this.

Inspiration: A Christmas themed dream I had a while ago.

Enjoy!

P.S: In order to read this, there is a picture that you need to look at and keep in mind. This is what the kitchen will look like, so yeah, keep that in mind please.

P.P.S: Instead of saying y/n, I’m using the name Bree. Please feel free to read as though it’s your name mentioned in this.

===

Life with Taron has not always been that easy due his fame but it had its sweet moments. One of the sweet moments? Christmas. Taron always made it a point to make it a special and magical time. He always did the cooking for Christmas dinner and you always prepared the house for your guests arrival. However, your Christmas routine had changed slightly when little Madeline-Joy joined your family. She was a welcome gift. She had your husband’s eyes, nose and hair colour and she possessed your Smile. Of course she had to have her own little trait. She had curly-ish hair and she was as cute as a button, and much like her name, she was a joy to have around.

Bree was in Maddy’s nursery as she changed the little girl’s nappy. “Hello my sweet girl.” She cooed as the baby smiled up at her. “Mama.” Maddy babbled. Bree laughed and zipped up her onesie and stood her up. Just before she held the baby in her arms, she could hear the sound of Christmas classics filling the house. She could also hear Taron singing. Most likely singing into the whisk as he often did at this time of year. Bree chuckled and picked Maddy up, spinning her around. Earning her the most glorious string of laughter escaping her daughter’s lips. “Should we go see what papa is up to?” Bree asked and Maddy nodded her head vigorously. “Ok, let’s go.” She said as she walked downstairs.

Taron could hear his wife walk downstairs and as she walked into view of the kitchen, Taron stopped and smiled at his two girls. Seeing her father, Maddy squealed and waved at him as she always did when she saw him. Taron waved back at her and blew them a kiss. Maddy smiled and buried her head into her mother’s chest. They both watched as Taron turned around and put the turkey in the oven. When that was done, Taron walked over to Bree and took Maddy from her arms and started to sway with her to Nat King Cole’s ‘the Christmas song.’ Maddy squealed in delight as Taron dipped her dramatically and showered her in kisses. Bree watched her husband and daughter bond over the many songs they danced to. Her heart growing warm at the sound of their laughter and Maddy squealing ‘Papa’ at the top of her lungs when his stubble would tickle her skin from all of his kisses.

Eventually Taron and Maddy walk toward Bree. “My two goofballs.” She cooed as Taron wrapped an arm around her. He leaned down and kissed Bree softly. “I love you baby.” He whispered against her lips. Bree smiled. “I love you.” She replied as she hugged him as best she could and all the three of them started to sway gently to the slow music now playing. Taron humming softly to the music. Bree began to feel her eyes close as she enjoyed this tender moment.

After dancing with her father, Maddy laid her small head on Taron’s chest. Her tiny left hand starts playing with the material of his shirt and her other hand gripped his arm as he held her as close as he could with one arm. Both of her parents watching as her tired eyes fluttered shut. Her long lashes resting against her cheeks. Bree looked up at Taron and smiled at each other. “We should put her in her room.” Taron said and she nodded in agreement. Making their way up to her room, Maddy stirred and Taron ran his fingers through her curls, calming the small child. The bond they shared always amazed Bree. He was such a good father and Maddy adored him. She was definitely a daddy’s girl, which was both good and bad. Bad because when he was working away from home, it would almost end with Maddy in tears cause he wasn’t there to kiss her goodnight.

Reaching her room, Taron kissed her and laid her down. Pulling her blanket over her and tucking her little moomintroll toy under arm. He brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her once more before both he and Bree retreated to their room to rest as well. Taron took off the apron he was wearing. “You are really good with her.” Bree said as she hugged Taron. Taron’s arms went around her waist and he rested his chin on the top of her head. “She’s one of the best things to ever happen to me.” He replied as Bree pulled away and connected her lips with his in a loving kiss. Taron sighed into the kiss. His hands holding her close to his body. Bree broke the kiss and looked at him. “You know, she seemed pretty tired and we have a few hours before anyone arrives. You wanna fool around?” Bree asked and Taron crashed his lips to her neck. She chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes?” Bree said and Taron nodded against her skin. His tongue occasionally flicking the bite marks he left behind.

Bree’s hands finding their way into his hair, slightly tugging at the ends. Taron moaned and pulled away from his wife to pull her shirt off. When his landed on her braless chest, he growled. The heat rushing to her core. Taron licked his lips and she stepped back from him, giving him a playful look. “Play fair.” Taron whined. Her eyes traveled up and down his clothed body and he got the hint. He practically ripped his clothes off, leaving his boxers on and attacked her. Playfully tackling her. Both of them landing on their bed laughing. “Dork.” Bree muttered and Taron just smiled down at her. Bree’s hands held his face gently and she leaned up to kiss his lips gently. They broke apart and smiled at each other. “I love you Cariad.” Taron whispered. “I love you too. So much.” She replied as his lips met hers again.

Taron didn’t want to rush into sex, he wanted to make sure Bree felt loved and cherished. His lips kissed her lips and every inch of her body. When he reached her hips, he kissed them slowly and softly, making sure to keep eye contact with her. Bree’s body shivered at his touch and she hummed happily. Taron smirked when he heard the moan the escaped her lips. He moved closer to her dripping core. “So wet for me.” Taron muttered as he ran a finger up from her entrance to her clit. Bree nodded. “Tell me what you want baby.” Taron instructed. “I want you to make love to me.” Bree replied as she closed her eyes and enjoyed her husband’s touch. “You’re wish is my command.” Taron replied before his tongue ghosted along her folds. Sucking in a breath, she hummed in pleasure. Taron flicked his tongue against her and the feeling of electricity shot through her body like a bolt of lightening. Bree bucked her hips and her husband chuckled.

Her hands went to the back of his head to try and push him closer to her. “Hmmm baby, right there.” Bree moaned as he sucked on her clit. Taron decided to insert a couple fingers and he began to move them slowly. Bree bit her lower lip and enjoyed the feeling. Before long, she could feel the knot in her belly tighten and as she clenched around Taron’s fingers, she knew he could tell how close she was as well. “Right there. Don’t stop.” Bree moaned as he moved his fingers faster. Bree came a few minutes later and Taron pulled away from her, watching as her body shuddered from the pleasure he inflicted upon her body. When she came down from her high, Bree opened her eyes and moaned at the sight of Taron. His hair messy from her touch and his lips swollen and red from his pleasuring her. “You look fucking adorable like that.” Bree said as she caught her breath. Taron simply smiled in reply.

Taron moved up her body and kissed her lips. Bree could taste herself on his tongue as it danced with hers in passion. Taron pulled away with her bottom lip between his teeth as he tugged on it. Enticing more pleasure to course through her veins. “I need you baby.” Bree whined slightly and Taron was quick to remove his boxers. Bree was always in awe at how big he was but it always excited her at the same time. She got to sleep with the man that so many people fantasized about. She got to feel his thighs against hers and she got to feel him in the most intimate way. He made her endlessly happy. Bree wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Taron pushed himself into her and she held on to his arms as he sunk into her the rest of the way. Him filling her deliciously well. Taron began to thrust into her faster and faster until he set a steady pace. Slapping skin could be heard and their moans filled the air. Her legs resting on Taron’s shoulders as he looked down at her features. “Open your eyes.” Taron instructed but she shook her head. Taron stopped his actions and Bree whined. He chuckled and changed positions so that he was closer to her. Her arms wrapped themselves around his neck as he kissed her lips. He started to move again and her legs encircled his waist in attempt to keep him close to her. The feel of him on top of her was much more intimate then their previous position. “Fuck, you feel so good baby.” Bree moaned as he laid his head in the crook of her neck, peppering small kisses on the sensitive spot.

Eventually, both of them could feel how close they were and without saying a word to him, Taron locked eyes with her and nodded his head as if to tell her to let go. They both gave into the feeling of their orgasms and writhed and shuddered against each other. Reveling in the feeling, Bree kissed her husband’s lips to conceal her moans. Once they had come down from their highs, Taron laid on top of her panting. She ran her fingers through his sweaty hair and kissed his forehead. Both of them enjoying to be close to one another.

A couple hours later, Taron was changing Maddy into her Christmas outfit that his mother had bought for her. He was excited for Bree to see it as he had been under strict orders not to show her until the night of their Christmas dinner get together.

(I couldn’t resist this one. It’s super cute and I feel like this fits the imagine really well and look at the little glasses....Oh so adorable right?)

“You my darling girl, look absolutely adorable.” Taron said as he stood the girl up and smoothed down her dress. She smiled brightly at him. “I love you so much baby girl.” Taron said as he kissed her cheek. She threw her little arms around him and hugged him. “Love you papa.” Maddy attempted. Taron’s heart melted at the sound of her little voice. “Shall we go show mama your dress?” Taron asked as he put the glasses on to her face. Maddy nodded at him and he took her downstairs to where his wife was setting the table.

“Bree, look.” Taron said. She turned around and her eyes landed on Madeline. “Oh my gosh.” She gasped. “I pretty?” Maddy asked, making Bree and Taron laugh. “Yes baby, you look beautiful. I see nan bought you glasses as well.” She said as she rubbed her daughter’s back. “Yeah.” Maddy giggled. “You look just like your papa.” Bree said as Bree kissed her cheek and ruffled her curls. “Hey, I just did her hair.” Taron whined. Bree laughed and ruffled his hair as well. “Oh well. You two look better for it.” She joked and he rolled his eyes. He walked off to fix his and Maddy’s hair.

While he was doing that, the doorbell rang. “T, they’re here.” Bree called as she walked to the front door. Bree opened the door and was greeted by a heavily pregnant Sarah. “Come in you two, it’s freezing out here.” Bree said as she ushered Sarah and Richard into the house. “Thanks Bree.” Sarah said gratefully. Bree took their coats and they walked into the living room and sat on the sofa. “Taron should be down in a minute. He’s fussing over his and Maddy’s hair.” Bree said as she sat down herself. “How are you feeling?” Bree asked as Sarah rubbed her belly. “Tired and sore. I don’t this child has any desire to be born.” Sarah sighed and Bree chuckled. “Trust me, it’s well worth the wait.” She said as Taron came down the stairs with an upset looking Madeline. “She didn’t want to come down or take the glasses off.” Taron explained as he greeted his friends.

A few minutes later, their other guests arrived and before they knew it, their house was full of their family and friends. Bree talked with everyone while Taron checked the food and Maddy played with the other kids there. When the food was all ready, everyone gathered at the table and sat down. The food was consumed by everyone except for Maddy who decided that she wasn’t going to eat what her father had made. The little girl fed the floor instead and when Taron saw this, he gave his daughter a warning glance. Bree noticed this and leaned closer to her husband’s ear. “What’s wrong?” She whispered. “Look on the ground.” He said and Bree saw that Maddy had thrown her food again. Bree looked at her daughter and shook her head. Taron put some more food on her plate and she returned her father’s warning glare. “Madeline.” He warned quietly as she picked up a piece of turkey and threatened to drop it on the floor. She watched him to see if she could get away with it. When she realized that she couldn’t, she put it on her plate and waited for him to look away from her. When he did, she took her chance. Little did she know that her uncle Richard was watching this.

“You know Taron, this is really good mate.” He complimented. Taron smiled gratefully. “Thanks Rich. I’m glad you like it.” He replied with a warm smile as he went back to talking with Bree. Richard had to stifle a laugh when the little girl looked between her father and the apple sauce on her plate. Richard knew that Madeline was planning something in that head of hers. Her little eyes darting around as she looked to see if anyone was watching her. Her eyes locked with Richard’s and he could see the plan in her head dissipate. She smiled cheekily at him and put a carrot slice in her mouth, giving him her puppy eyes. There was no denying who her father was.

When dinner was done, Bree and Taron brought out dessert but they made the mistake of leaving Maddy’s plate on her tray. Maddy took the opportunity to decorate her father’s chair with the left over potato and gravy. Maddy dropped some on his chair. Before Richard could warn Taron, the Welshman sat down and his smile fell. Richard cringed and Maddy smiled at her father. Bree looked at her husband with concern. “Taron, are you ok?” She asked as she laid her hand on his shoulder. “When you looked at Maddy’s plate, did she have anything left on it?” He asked as he tried to keep calm now that everyone was looking at him. “Yeah, she had potato and grav-” She started as her eyes went to the child’s plate. The potato and gravy had disappeared. Bree had to bite back the smile that threatened to show. “I’m sorry baby. I should have taken the plate from her.” Bree said as she swallowed her laughter. Taron was beyond embarrassed and disappointed in his daughter. He felt like crying. “Why don’t we all go into the living room while Taron gets cleaned up.” Sarah said as she stood up. Everyone followed her.

Taron stood up and Bree helped him wipe the food from his pants. He walked upstairs and Bree took Maddy from her highchair and followed him. Once in the room, Bree shut the door and placed Maddy on the bed. “Taron? Baby are you ok?” Bree asked as she heard him looking for another pair of jeans. “Yup, fine.” He replied shortly. Bree knew he was upset. “Hand me your jeans and I’ll go soak them.” She offered. “It’s fine Bree.” He said as he walked out of the walk in closet. When he turned to leave the room, Bree saw an apple sauce handprint on his back. She sniggered and Taron turned to face her. “What?” He asked but was afraid to know. “By any chance, did you feel her hand on your back at any point during dinner?” Bree asked with amusement. Taron closed his eyes and huffed. He nodded. “What did she do?” He asked. “Apple.” Maddy announced happily. Bree burst out laughing and Taron cracked a smile. “You are a little stinker.” Taron said as he kissed his daughter’s cheek. “What you did wasn’t nice little one. What do you say to Papa?” Bree asked the little girl whose smile dropped instantly. Her eyes grew glossy with tears and her little lip quivered. Maddy sniffed at an attempt to stop her tears. She knew she was in trouble.

Madeline didn’t say anything, she simply reached for her father and he took her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and cried. Bree got him another shirt while he held the girl in his arms and rubbed her back. “Sorry.” Maddy muttered in her own little way. “Thank you baby girl. Let’s dry those tears and go back downstairs for dessert ok?” Taron asked and Maddy snuggled into him more, not wanting to let him go. “Should we put you to bed?” Bree asked as she handed Taron another shirt. Bree took Maddy and Taron quickly replaced the shirt he was wearing. “Papa.” Maddy said as she reached for him. He gladly took her and they went downstairs to enjoy the rest of their night.

By the time everyone left, Madeline was on the brink of sleep. “Why don’t we just go up now and clean up tomorrow.” Bree suggested and Taron nodded. They turned all the lights off and walked upstairs to their room. Taron laid Maddy on the bed and him and Bree got ready for bed. Once she was ready, Bree climbed into bed and Madeline curled into her side. From her very Christmas, Taron and Bree put Christmas Eve aside for a family sleepover. They would place their daughter between them and would sing her Christmas carols. It was Bree’s favorite thing to do.

Bree watched as her husband walked around the room, preparing for bed. “I’m sorry about tonight. I know it was embarrassing for you.” Bree apologized. Taron got into bed and leaned over carefully and kissed his wife. “It’s not your fault honey. She was probably just mad at me because I caught her throwing her food on the ground. She’ll grow out of it.” He explained and Bree smiled in thanks. “Taron?” Bree asked as he turned out the light. “Yes baby?” He asked in reply. “I love you and Madeline so much.” Bree whispered. Taron caressed her cheek and they smiled at each other. Maddy stirred between them and they saw that her big green eyes were open and watching Taron. “Why don’t you and mama close your eyes and I’ll sing to you.” Taron suggested and both girls closed their eyes.

Taron hummed random Christmas songs and before too long, Bree was sound asleep but Maddy had other plans. She opened her eyes and saw that Taron was laying on his back. She climbed on to her father. “Hello princess.” He whispered as he wrapped his strong arms around her small frame and held her close. Her little fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest. “Night, night my angel.” He whispered to his now sleeping daughter. Bree smiled as she briefly opened her eyes. “Merry Christmas Darling.” She said softly as she snuggled into Taron’s side. He looked at her and she kissed his lips tenderly before the three of them fell asleep.

Tag List: @sarahegerton96 @rocknrollmadden @jobanan23 @superthiccthighssavelives @dogmom2014 @hauntedflamingo @softeggsy @eggsyobsessed @mairyleo

#december14

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oneofiv · 4 years

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Such a dirty, filthy word...GRIEF!

I am no expert but by life's infinite graces I am quite familiar with grief and the variety of coping mechanisms that come along with it. Welcome to my Ted Talk. Ok, serious face. I have been on this planet for a little over 33 years and in that time frame I have lost not one, but both parents and most recently and easily most gut wrenching my little sister Devin. If you are uncomfortable with dark humor and the concept of complete black hole sadness, I'd say turn around right now but really you should stay. Because these two things are eventually unavoidable. So buckle up babies!

Dad: 15 years old, stubborn, insecure, massive chip on the shoulder

Losing my dad was tough, for many reasons. He was the first. Uncharted territory. How does one go about living in a world where one minute you had two parents and the next you're down to one? Well more like half of one. Mom wasn't doing so swell back in 2001. She had a lot of demons (too many to go into in the post but trust me we'll get there one day). So now, I am the oldest sibling of a one parent household. Dad was the navigator, he was the one who knew the next step. I think this was the first time I felt completely and utterly helpless. I remember I was having a good day on September 27, 2001. My friend Brett and I went to the mall, I'm pretty sure I bought a purse from American Eagle. Back at home, sprawled out on my bed attempting to start some homework, the phone rang. It was my Dad's mom. You ever know something is wrong before given any actual reasoning? That's happened to me twice in my life. Once, 3 years earlier and this day. I knew he was gone. My grandma Alice asked to speak to my other grandma Carol (whom we lived with). She said nothing other than "Hi sweetie, can I talk to grandma Carol?" Thinking back on it there was no real shift in her tone of voice, maybe subtly but not enough to send red flags waving around in my mind. When it was finally said out loud that he was gone, I embraced the laminate flooring beneath me. An ungodly wail escaped my mouth. I became one with my siblings as a ball of overwhelming grief. A son without his idol, two daughters who wondered who would walk them down the aisle now? With that quick call the life that we had known was gone. He was gone.

Mom: 25 years old, still stubborn, still insecure, working on that chip, in a super unhealthy relationship

We use to joke about how it would come down to the apocalypse and all that would remain would be the cockroaches, Twinkies and my mama. She had done so much damage to herself in her short lifetime that it was baffling how she made it as long as she did. But despite all of that it was still absolutely shocking when she really died. I was living 900 miles away from my family in Myrtle Beach when I got the call from my sister. My knees gave out, my ears starting to ring. I now have no parents. How does that happen? How do some people have both and I get none? Selfish, irrational thoughts like that one would soon consume my mind. In chaos we booked a flight back to New York but it wasn't for 24 hours. We can drive there quicker than that. We ended up using the credit for the flight back for the official goodbye a few weeks later. Guilt. Crippling, soul crushing, guilt. Could I have changed the outcome by being kinder to her? Were my siblings right? My tough love approach was falling on deaf ears? I didn't tell her I loved her the last time I saw her. In fact, I'm pretty sure I just scoffed at her. A month earlier we celebrated Christmas. In the week I was back home she never emerged from her room. Or if she did, I wasn't around to see it. I hugged my siblings, cracked some jokes and packed up the car to escape back down to the warmth. Halfway down the block, "SUSIE", my most prized possession was back in my childhood room, we turned around. And there she was, making her way down the stairs like the living dead. Ghostly pale, disheveled, with the saddest eyes I've ever known. A common site, unfortunately. No words were exchanged. A sarcastic breathe of air was my greeting. I will have to live with this. Realistically, I think my mom knew how much I loved her. She had to. I spent the better part of 15 years begging her to come back to us. If that didn't scream love, what did? Maybe actually telling her "I love you"? I do Mom. More than words were ever able to express in your lifetime. I hope I am like you when I have kids of my own. Seriously! Minus the obvious issues, I would be disgustingly lucky to be a fraction of the mother you were. I wish you knew.

Devin: 29 years old, not so stubborn, still insecure, chip is long gone, freshly laid off

...I don't want to write about this. I've never had a problem sharing my grief about my parents but Devin is different. Its still so new. Its never been believable to me. Plus to be actually honest about this one I would have to divulged some things that I would rather keep close to the chest. Because Devin doesn't deserve to be remember any other way than as the wildly funny, intimidatingly gorgeous, absolute lunatic that she was. All you need to know is that my little sister died 5 days after her 28th birthday. I was the last one to see her. She was wearing a "Finding Gerald" shirt (i.e. Finding Dory) and the last thing I said to her, as I touched her back, was "I love you Dev". This grief. This is the monster you hear about. The one that takes down others. The one that is so easy to get lost in. The one that makes you wonder if you should follow and leave too. When I think about her not being here my initial reaction is sadness, obviously. But that is shortly followed by a cocktail of guilt, anger, resentment, self loathing, loathing in general, bafflement, you name it. And its that cocktail that gets stuck as a lump in my throat. I can't swallow it. I can't allow myself to move past those feelings. I can shake off the sadness but not these. I am conditioned to sadness. These were new. I would, and I mean this with every single inch of me, trade places with her if I could. The world deserves Devin but more importantly Devin deserved the world.

When my Dad died I coped like most teenagers would. I hated my mom, my littlest brother was the bane of my existence, I discovered self harm (eventually to be replace with the more socially acceptable tattoos and piercings) and I fell in love with a boy. With Mom, as I was older and "wiser" I coped with booze and drugs and sex. The holy trinity! After Devin, I ate. A lot. I went from a squishy size 12 to a robust size 20. My interest in guys was minimal, I assume a side effect of my new padding. I like to think that I have covered the spread on ways to cope after losing a loved one. But the reality is I could have done so much more damage if wanted to. I could have become #4 on the Sheppard Family Tree of Death. Which, I have dibs on by the way. I refuse to outlive anyone else! Call me selfish but I am done losing people. I am feverishly knocking on all wood surfaces right now. I think another one would break me. And for good. I often wonder how it hasn't already. Am I stronger than I think I am? Or in a weird way does my inability to follow through with things also effect this aspect of my life? ← If you are curious what dark humor looks like, this would be a prime example. In other words, I am not suicidal, just super fucked up!

People have asked me how I do it, I assume they mean live with so many people absent. The only thing I have to say to that is, Quinn. The littlest of the Sheppard's, a full grown adult man now, but forever my chicken nugget. You think its been rough for me? Quinn was 5 when Dad died, 15 when Mom left and 19 when he lost his best friend. All of that before he could remove the "teen" from his age. If he can keep his head up and walk this earth without a massive grudge then fuck it so can I! This is a constant theme in our lives, perspective. No matter how bad its been, it could always be worse. The hardest day of our lives could be a cakewalk for someone else. This doesn't mean we're not entitled to grieve the way that we do but it also doesn't excuse us for being bad people. I refuse to let the loss of my family members allow me to treat others in a negative fashion.

I will probably come back to this topic time and time again but for now this is it.

#grief #loss of loved ones #mom died #dad die #sister died #loss of parents #loss of a sibling #coping mechanisms #coping #survivors guilt #subsance abuse #alcholism #cancer

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poetictrekkie · 5 years

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Holiday Headcanons for the Voyager Crew

Kathryn Janeway:

As Voyager’s captain, it is Janeway’s responsibility to organize holidays for the crew.

But Christmas is her personal favourite.

The ship’s crew definitely has the fondest memories of their captain during this holiday.

She takes it upon herself to give presents to each department, and all the children on the ship.

And though she hasn’t got the best voice in the world, she’ll be singing Christmas carols with a cup of spiked eggnog in her hand.

The holidays, unfortunately, result in Kathryn’s cooking efforts multiplying.

Chakotay has had to stomach too many of her homemade fruitcakes.

Of course, he lies through his teeth when asked how it tastes.

Sometimes, he uses the excessive stickiness of the cake as an excuse not to reply.

But as much as she enjoys the side of Christmas that involves getting together, she loves spending Christmas Eve in her quarters, looking out at the perpetually starry sky and thinking that it looks like winter flurries in space.

It’s also the time when she’s homesick the most.

For the real Christmas tree that Mark would chop down and bring home every year.

For Mollie’s little Santa hat, that would always fall off ten seconds after Kathryn wrangles it onto her.

And for the snow. Always the snow.

Chakotay:

Chakotay has never been one to celebrate the holidays with anything other than a glass of spirits by the fireplace.

However, as first officer and former captain of the Maquis, he feels an obligation to join the yearly festivities.

He’s always been responsible for putting up the Christmas tree in the mess hall.

Each year, he decorates it exquisitely.

He saves up replicator rations for ornaments.

If he doesn’t have as many as he wants, he’ll get the kids to make decorations themselves.

The Borg children always make incredible paper snowflakes, and give some as gifts to Chakotay.

He also makes sure to attend the celebrations for each holiday. From Hanukkah, to Kwanzaa, to the Orthodox Christmas in January, he’ll always be there.

He takes it as an opportunity to learn about the different cultures of Earth – something he’s always been fascinated by as an amateur anthropologist.

Most of all, the holidays are a time for Chakotay to spend time with his Voyager family, and reflect upon his journey in life so far.

Tuvok:

Whenever the holiday season comes around, Tuvok has a habit of receding into his quarters to escape the noise and bustle.

However, he likes to join the crewmen who are celebrating Hanukkah.

There’s something very beautiful and meditative about the nightly celebrations: the lighting of the menorah, the songs and prayers.

The crewmen always welcome him to join them each year, and teach him how to pronounce the prayers in Hebrew.

Tuvok has also displayed a surprising talent for Hanukkah cooking.

His sufganya are all eaten within ten minutes of him setting the plate down on the table.

And he’s tested out recipes for latkes with Vulcan flavours, like plomeek or gespar.

After the festivities, Tuvok will often meditate by the menorah.

The messages that Hanukkah brings, like faith and standing up for what you believe in, guide him through his nightly meditations during the holiday seasons.

Tom Paris:

Tom has an annual Christmas tradition of wearing antlers and a red nose while at the helm.

He thinks of himself as Rudolph driving Santa’s sleigh.

He calls Captain Janeway “Captain Santa Claus” for the whole day.

He calls Commander Chakotay “Commander Mrs. Claus” for the whole day.

Neither of them are amused.

Tom also loves to help decorate the ship and organize the Secret Santa exchange.

One time, he hung mistletoe right over Tuvok’s station on the bridge.

Needless to say, all the ensigns coming to hand in reports to their superior officer couldn’t decide if they were more amused or terrified.

He also organizes holodeck events leading up to and on Christmas Eve.

Holiday karaoke.

Sleigh races.

Holiday-themed movie nights.

But the event that Tom will be remembered for the most was the Starfleet vs. Maquis snowball fight.

It was brutal, incredible, and a ton of fun.

However, he’ll never go near B’Elanna if she’s holding a projectile made of snow – holographic or otherwise. His lesson has been learned.

Harry Kim:

Harry loves the holidays. If every day could be a holiday, he would not mind one bit.

Loves everything about them: the food, the gifts, the time spent with his friends.

Harry always gives his close friends homemade presents that he’s spent months working on.

One year, he gave Captain Janeway a framed photo collage of the crew, which she hung on the wall of her office.

And Kes was surprised when he presented her with a jar of homemade preserves made from the fruits grown in Airponics.

She was even more surprised when it turned out to be delicious.

Harry is also responsible for starting the annual Seollal (Korean New Year) celebration.

He’s adapted a few of the traditions for the Voyager crew.

After a ritual meal, the younger generations of the family pay respect to their elders by taking a deep bow called sebae. Then, the elders offer their blessings and wishes for a prosperous year.

For this tradition, Harry has replaced the younger generations with the junior officers, and the elders with the senior officers.

He also taught both the children and adults on the ship traditional games played during this time.

It always gives him a sense of pride to see his Voyager family celebrating traditions that he has observed since his childhood.

B’Elanna Torres:

Christmas is the one day when B’Elanna’s human and Klingon sides stop warring in her head.

In fact, it’s a day when B’Elanna reflects on her happy childhood memories, celebrating Christmas with her Mexican family.

While B’Elanna might be a little too old for the Christmas pinata, she always sets one up for the children, filled with candy canes, chocolates, and lollipops.

She always asks Kes to grow lilies a month or so before Christmas, so she can decorate her quarters with them.

Sometimes, she gets a melancholy, nostalgic feeling when she smells the lilies first thing on Christmas morning.

But she never cries… alright, maybe once.

B’Elanna also likes to make farolitos, intricately designed paper lanterns made from brown bags, with her friends.

She once made one in the shape of the ship’s warp core.

She’ll invite some of the senior crew a few days before Christmas to make lanterns and share food.

It’s one of her favourite nights of the year, when they string up the lanterns that they made together and place little lights inside.

The Doctor:

When it comes to the holidays, if there’s an excuse to sing, the Doctor is all for it.

And with all the carols being sung at Christmastime, the Doctor is kept content for the entire day.

He’ll organize the musically talented officers in a holiday band, and they’ll perform for the entire crew on Christmas Eve.

Unfortunately, the Doctor does sometimes get a little busy during Christmas.

After the infamous snowball fight, he spent his entire night treating minor injuries.

But all in a day’s work for the EMH, even on Christmas.

He loves learning about all the different human traditions during the holidays.

Since he doesn’t have to eat as a hologram, the Doctor always has tons of replicator rations saved up.

And he gets all his friends slightly extravagant presents.

But Seven really did like the necklace he got her one year.

All in all, Christmas is a time that the Doctor is thankful that he has such good friends.

Tom is proud to say that the Doctor has never once made a snide remark to him on Christmas.

Seven of Nine:

The holidays are a time for Seven to reconnect with her humanity and the traditions she used to celebrate.

She spends plenty of time with the Borg children, and gets them all gifts for Christmas.

The year she gave Mezoti a miniature chemistry kit was one of her successes.

And the Doctor insists that she sing a Christmas carol or two.

But it’s also a time with more socializing than necessary.

Excessive socializing is irrelevant.

And exhausting.

There’s a yearly tradition on Voyager, that one of the crew members will be drawn randomly to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree and give a toast.

And Seven, of course, is selected one year.

She’s never been more terrified in her entire existence.

She spends the entire lead-up to the holidays agonizing over her speech.

But in the end, Seven manages to make a very poignant toast.

“To my second family on Voyager: I thank you for showing me that resistance is not as futile as the Borg had me to believe. The values of your holidays – love, forgiveness, togetherness – capture the essence of all that you have taught me.

Kes:

Kes is always very busy in the lead up to the holidays.

The Airponics gardens are positively overflowing with poinsettia and holly, and whoever comes inside will comment that it’s already beginning to look like Christmas!

She also grows the mistletoe herself, a plant that is highly in demand by the couples onboard Voyager.

It doesn’t take telepathy to know who’s in a relationship that year, depending on who comes in to pick up a sprig or two of mistletoe.

Kes often helps Neelix with the holiday parties.

She has a flair for baked goods, and her gingerbread with Airponics-grown ginger is always a hit during the Christmas party.

When it comes to giving presents, you can be sure that Kes will be delivering flowers to all her nearest and dearest.

The Christmas season is also the time of year that Kes is on the receiving end of the most elf jokes.

One year she decides she’s had enough, and dresses up like one of Santa’s elves for the entire Christmas day.

The kids absolutely love it.

So do the other officers, but they’re better at hiding it.

It’s actually kind of adorable.

And that’s how Kes has now made it an annual tradition to dress like an elf on Christmas.

Neelix:

As morale officer, the holidays are Neelix’s time to shine.

And what other holiday does Neelix love better than Prixin?

Right answer: no other holiday.

He always puts a lot of effort into the Prixin festivities, because he loves sharing the traditions of his people.

It also makes him feel just a little less homesick for Talax.

But in regards to the other holidays, he loves them too.

Especially Christmas. Christmas is definitely Neelix’s second favourite holiday.

He’s always planning fun things for the kids and crew alike.

And the cooking… Neelix makes more food on Christmas than on any other day.

No one could quite forgive him for adding leola root to the turkey stuffing, though.

But one year, Neelix is absolutely swamped with work. And they’re running low on food reserves.

So he suggests a potluck dinner for Christmas.

The potluck is such a hit that Neelix begins to do it every year.

The only downside is the amount of dishes that Neelix has to clean at the end of the night.

#star trek #star trek voyager #star trek headcanons #star trek imagines #captain janeway #kathryn janeway #chakotay #commander chakotay #tuvok #commander tuvok #tom paris #harry kim #b'elanna torres #kes #neelix #seven of nine #the doctor #headcanons

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distractedhistotech · 4 years

Text

Before MSA + 1: Halloween

Arthur had managed to put together something that acted like a diaper but which fitted into his pocket instead of around the hamster. “It takes a little bit to put them together though…”

Cadence seemed happy with the pocket diaper considering how much time she was spending in Arthur’s shirt and coat pockets.

“I wonder if you could incorporate it into your Halloween costume,” mused Vivi.

“Uh…What’s Halloween?” asked Arthur.

Sydney and Lewis gave Arthur startled looks. “You don’t know what Halloween is?!”

Arthur panicked a bit as he realized this was something everyone was supposed to know about. “My parents were super religious,” he said quickly. Sydney and Lewis seemed to accept it.

“Halloween evolved from the Celtic celebration of Samhain,” explained Vivi. “It was the ending of the year at sun down, but the new year didn’t start until the sun rose. Being outside of time as it were meant that ghosts and the like had an easier time manifesting. It probably makes magic easier and stronger too. At some point, people started wearing scary outfits to try and blend in or scare away the spirits. That ritual eventually became putting on costumes for fun and, in the case of kids, going around to houses and asking for treats.”

The other kids were staring at her in surprise at the info dump, while Arthur was wondering if this meant Halloween was technically a pagan holiday.

“Actually, the Catholic church took a lot of pagan holidays and incorporated them into their religion. Christmas takes place in December because that’s when a big festival called Saturnalia took place in the Roman empire. Evidence suggests that Jesus was actually born in Spring,” continued Vivi as if she’d predicted Arthur’s thoughts.

The more Arthur learned the more he wondered if the adults in his early life knew what they were doing.

“Anyway…My dad makes cosplay as a side job so if you want he can make you guys costumes too,” said Sydney.

Lewis nodded. “He always makes costumes for us.”

Vivi perked up. “Really?”

Sydney nodded. “But nothing super complicated, okay? He’s gotta budget.”

“What’s cosplay?” asked Arthur.

“Costume play,” explained Lewis. “People dress up like characters from anime or videogames that they love. Some of the outfits are really complicated or accurate.”

“We usually do a theme for Halloween,” continued Sydney.

“We did Sailor Moon for a couple of years,” said Lewis.

“Another time we were Ed and Al Elric,” said Sydney. “I’m not sure what we could do with four people.”

“Power Rangers?” suggested Vivi.

“There’s usually five of ‘em though,” said Sydney.

“Is that a big deal?” asked Arthur.

“Not really,” said Lewis. “It would just seem a little weird to be short a ranger.”

“So, we need a group of four people,” muttered Sydney. “All I can think of are Transformers, but that might be too complicated.”

“All I can think of is the Scooby Doo gang,” said Vivi.

Silence. The kids turned to stare at Ben. “Would Ben let us dye his fur?” asked Lewis.

“I have no idea,” admitted Vivi. “Would the dye be safe?”

“I have no idea,” repeated Sydney. “Dad knows a bit about hair dye…”

“I think you could get away with leaving him white and black,” said Arthur.

“So, who would be who?” asked Lewis.

Vivi and Sydney promptly pointed at Lewis. “Fred.” Then they pointed towards Arthur. “Shaggy.”

“You do have the muscle tone going on,” agreed Arthur.

And Lewis blushed because he was somehow the biggest one there despite (probably) being the youngest. “W-well, who’s gonna be Velma and Daphne?”

Sydney and Vivi exchanged looks. That was…less obvious. Both wore glasses, had relatively short statures, and were fairly tomboyish.

“You’re shorter,” said Vivi.

Sydney pouted. “Yeah, I am. Guess that makes me Velma…What kind of name is Velma?”

“I dunno.”

“Will we need a van?”

“None of us can drive,” pointed out Arthur.

“Maybe a toy or something,” suggested Lewis.

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense,” admitted Arthur.

The four kids (and dog and hamster) just lay there for several minutes. It hadn’t been a particularly odd conversation, but something in the air seemed heavy, as if something life changing had just happened.

Then Ben started licking Arthur’s face, ending the moment. Arthur let out a laugh. “H-hey! Stop! Stop!”

Vivi grinned. “You’re saying ‘stop’, but you’re laughing.” Ben decided to switch targets and started licking Vivi instead. She giggled. “Ben!”

“We should teach him how to talk!” Ben turned his attention to Sydney. “Hey! Ew! Your breath smells like fish! Why does it smell like fish? You’re not a cat!”

“Ben’ll eat anything if you give him the chance,” said Vivi.

Lewis pulled a bag of chips out from somewhere and grinned. “Like this?” He popped the bag open. He was immediately tackled by the dog. “Ack!” Ben quickly stuck his head in the bag and quickly snapped up the contents before transferring his ministrations to Lewis. “Oh yuck! Your breath really does smell like fish!”

“Hold him for me,” said Vivi. “I’ll brush his teeth!”

The whole thing devolved into a wrestling match. No teeth were cleaned. Everyone needed a bath afterwards.

Sydney had been right about the Scooby Doo costumes being fairly simple to make. She hadn’t stopped to think about make-up and hairstyling though.

“Are you almost done?” asked Sydney Jr.

“Almost…Just one more pin…and done!” Sydney Sr stepped back to admire how Sydney looked with the brown bob wig in addition to the rest of her costume. “The shape of the glasses aren’t the same, but I don’t think anyone will care.”

Sydney Jr. twirled and did a hop-skip over to Vivi, who was messing with her noticeably longer orange wig. “How ‘bout you?”

“I prefer shorter hair. Hair this long just…gets in the way,” said Vivi as she glared distastefully at a lock of orange hair.

Sydney nodded. “I hear ya. I just want it long enough to ponytail it.” She glanced at the boys. “How ‘bout you two?”

Unlike the girls, the boys weren’t wearing wigs. They’d just had their hair styled into a close approximation of their chosen characters. Sydney Sr claimed this was because the wigs would look too bulky unless the boys were willing to shave their hair. They weren’t.

Arthur fingered his hair. “This doesn’t feel too different from usual besides the colors.” He was wearing green and red. He was coming to prefer bright colors like orange and yellow.

Lewis was happily studying his reflection. “I kind of like this hairstyle.” He turned to Sydney Sr. “Will you teach me how to do this?”

Sydney Sr gave him a grin. “Sure! I’ll get you some decent hair mousse. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go change into my costume.” On his way out, he ran into Hiro. “So, how’d Ben like the vegetable dye?”

“He tolerated it.” That was a lie. Ben had taken one look at the dye, snorted, and changed his fur color to the proper brown color.

“I’m leaving you alone with Noelle and the kids for a bit. Behave now.” And Sydney Sr hurried down the hallway.

Hiro raised an eyebrow. The Sydneys were pretty darn odd. Still, they got along with the rest of the family and friends, and Hiro did like them…in reasonable amounts.

He walked Ben over to the kids, who all started petting him. “Wow, this dye is really realistic,” said Lewis.

Sydney nodded. “My dad knows what he’s doing.”

“How you holding up boy?” asked Vivi. Ben licked her in response. “Good to know.”

“Oh, you kids look so cute like that,” said Noelle. “Let me get my camera!”

Hiro let the kids pose for the camera for several moments before clearing his throat. “Now, I don’t know how much you know about the holiday, but it is easier to come into contact with the supernatural starting tonight and lasting until November 2. It’s most intense on Halloween though. So, Mr. Scoville and I will be escorting you tonight. I have tools prepared to chase off anything that may take an untoward interest in your group, and you will all be spending the night here. Mr. Scoville also has some sort of repelling ability, so I’d imagine this is one of the safest places in the county.”

Arthur let out a sigh of relief. “That’s a relief.”

“Had some bad experiences?” asked Vivi.

Arthur nodded. “I just knew they were at the end of October. I didn’t know about the Halloween thing. Why does it get so much worse anyway?”

“That’s not something with a simple answer,” said Hiro. “Something makes…magic for lack of a better word more potent during these days, which makes it easier for people to see ghosts and for ghosts, along with other normally invisible entities, to become visible to people. It’s a good time for them to be heard if there’s something they want to get across to the mundane, living population.” Hiro glowered. “Although I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a tradition among the supernatural to have fun and try to scare humans. It’s what people are expecting to happen after all.”

Ben gave a barely noticeable shrug. Hiro wasn’t wrong, but it was more of a ‘teenagers messing around and doing things their parents won’t necessarily approve of’ sort of thing.

Arthur crossed his arms. “Well, I don’t like it, whatever it is…”

Vivi turned to Sydney and Lewis. “Have you guys ever noticed anything weird around this time of year?”

“I haven’t ever noticed anything,” said Sydney. “Lewis says there are ghosts all over the place though.”

Lewis nodded. “Yeah, some are pretty scary. It’s a lot more active in the cemetery and house. Sydney always spends the night since some of them look pretty scary.” Lewis made a face as something suddenly occurred to him. “Uh, this is the first Halloween we haven’t slept over at my house. Do you think Mom and Dad and Belle will be okay?”

“I put some ofudas up at your house that should keep away most dangerous entities,” reassured Hiro. “Honestly, you probably attract half of the activity so just spending time away from them will put a stop to a portion of the paranormal activity.”

“Huh, really? I had no idea,” said Lewis.

“Oh, yes, once ghosts figure out someone can see them word spreads very quickly.”

“Wait. I can’t see ghosts, so why do they keep following me around?” asked Arthur.

Hiro shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure why, but you…leak energy. Being around you is like it being Halloween all the time,” said Hiro. “You also have an aura that the supernatural find pleasing, like how kids will gravitate to a kitchen where cookies have just been cooked.”

“I could go for some cookies,” said Vivi.

“You’re going to be getting plenty of candy tonight,” said Noelle. “You can see about having cookies after you finish off the candy.”

Vivi grinned. “Challenge accepted.”

“No,” said Hiro.

“Aw…but-”

“No, you remember what happened last time,” said Hiro.

“Ooh, what happened last time?” asked Sydney.

“When she was five she ate all of her Halloween candy at once and didn’t sleep for three days,” explained Hiro. “She tried to feed Ben chocolate. Dogs can’t eat chocolate.”

Ben huffed because he could eat chocolate, thank you very much. Stupid need to hold up the illusion all the time. He couldn’t wait until Vivi was mature enough to know what he really was so he could relax at home. Not to mention it would be easier to snatch some of whatever that was Noelle was cooking.

Lewis must have noticed how Ben was staring longingly towards the kitchen because he grabbed a treat out of his pocket. “Would you like a Scooby Snack?”

Eh, it’ll do. Ben snapped it up and gave Lewis a lick of thanks.

“What’s taking your dad so long?” asked Vivi. “He said he was going to be a zombie. It can’t take that long to put on some torn clothing and fake blood.”

Sydney grinned. “Dad put in way more effort than that. There’s latex and make-up and contact lenses…”

“Mr. Scoville’s costumes are really complicated,” agreed Lewis.

Any further conversation was interrupted by a groaning sound. Everyone turned to see…a zombie. It was covered in bite marks, half rotten, had clouded over eyes, and dirty, torn clothing. It was completely unrecognizable as Sydney Sr.

“…Okay, that is a convincing zombie costume,” admitted Vivi.

“Thank you,” said Sydney Sr, briefly breaking character before going back to groaning.

“You look like a dead body!” said Arthur. “Which I guess is the point, but it’s creepy.”

Sydney Scoville groaned again. He sure was taking the zombie thing seriously.

“So…” Sydney Jr held up her treat bag. “Can we go trick-or-treating now?”

“Unnngh!”

“Taking that as a yes!”

Thankfully, the other adults decided to agree with the translation so the kids were able to head out. “There are a lot of costumes,” commented Arthur.

Vivi nodded. “Yep, it’s a popular holiday.”

“What a cute baby!” cooed Lewis at a young couple and their baby, all of them dressed like dinosaurs.

“Thank you!”

“But most of them seem to be younger than us,” continued Arthur.

“That guy’s older than us,” pointing at a guy dressed like a robot.

“People just prefer to go to parties once they get older. I don’t know why. They’re sooo boring,” complained Vivi. “Where’s the darkness? Where’s the creepy shadows? Where’s the questioning of if there’s a ghost around the corner or if that’s a really good werewolf costume or some werewolf decided to go to the store to pick up milk?”

“There are some ghosts following us,” commented Lewis.

Arthur tensed up. “Why?”

Lewis glanced towards the ghosts. “Are you sure he’s not a zombie? He looks pretty dead.”

“It’s Halloween. It’s obviously a very good costume.”

“He smells like a zombie though.”

“We’re ghosts! We can’t smell!”

“Oh yeah.”

“Besides, wasn’t there a Scooby-Doo movie with zombies?”

“Since when are there Scooby-Doo movies?”

“Mr. Scoville’s costume is really convincing,” said Lewis.

“Unngh!”

“Are zombies real?” asked Sydney.

“Yes,” said Hiro. “Under very specific circumstances. It takes one of a few specific rituals. It’s very dangerous and is not something that should ever be done unless you have prior permission from the subject of interest. Even then, it’s not recommended because of the possible side effects.” He paused. “Actually, this is a very complicated subject. Let’s talk about it when we have more time.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it at all,” muttered Arthur as they walked up to a house.

They took a moment to ring the doorbell, ask for treats, and thank the woman handing out the treats. Ben tried to beg for treats. This wasn’t allowed, and the group went on their way.

“Do ghost hunters have a lot of work on Halloween?” asked Sydney.

“Paranormal investigators,” corrected Hiro. “While we do look for ghosts, calling us ‘hunters’ suggests we intend to hurt ghosts in some way. That’s a last resort in cases where the ghosts in question seek to harm the living and cannot be convinced otherwise. And whether an investigator works on Halloween or not varies. Most will take the time off because they might get false positives. Some like working on Halloween though since they might get results they wouldn’t usually come by.”

“That doesn’t sound very professional,” muttered Arthur.

“I agree,” said Hiro. “Personally, I feel that circumstances that modify magical strengths can be dangerous, even if it’s something to your advantage.”

“Wouldn’t that make things easier?” asked Sydney.

“Yes, which might be good in an emergency, but it can make you under or overestimate a situation.”

“How is overestimating bad?” questioned Arthur.

Hiro took a minute to think about how to describe what he was thinking. “It’s like using a hand grenade to make a hole when a drill will suffice.”

Vivi, Lewis, both Sydneys, and even Arthur laughed. Hiro had to admit it wasn’t the best analogy, but it’s what he came up with on short notice.

“It’s like you thought the corn was sweet so you put in the wrong amount of salt,” said Lewis.

“That’s a better analogy,” admitted Hiro. “Anyway, once you outgrow trick-or-treating, you should find some way to spend Halloween that doesn’t involve the supernatural. Maybe go to a party or stay home and watch movies.”

“Watching movies would be nice,” said Arthur.

“Ooh! We could watch the Nightmare Before Christmas again!” said Vivi.

“You will not. It’s a school night,” said Hiro. “As it is the only reason you’re spending the night together is for safety’s sake.” He looked to Sydney Sr. “I’m trusting you and Mrs. Scoville to get the children to sleep and awake on time.”

“Nggggh!”

“That means yes,” said Sydney Jr.

“I still wish we could spend the night at Lewis’ house,” said Vivi. “There’s a lot more space, and it seems more fitting to spend Halloween in a haunted house.”

“Belle sometimes cries at night. She might wake you up,” said Lewis.

“Or we might wake her up,” countered Arthur.

“I don’t wanna wake Baby Belle up!” agreed Sydney Jr. “She’s cute when she’s sleeping.”

The subject of conversation rapidly changed to siblings and sleepovers. Hiro watched them absentmindedly before feeling something brush against his side.

It was just Ben, who gave him a smile unseen by anyone else. Hiro found himself smiling back. It was nice…seeing the children all so happy like this.

It would be nice if it would last forever.

#Arthur Kingsman #Lewis Pepper #Vivi Yukino #Sydney Scoville Jr.#Sydney Scoville Sr.#Hiro Yukino #Mystery the not-Dog #Brief Noelle sighting #Halloween episode #The gang dresses up as the gang #And talk about ghosts and stuff #While getting free candy #Then they get to have a sleepover

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yamamuragaku · 5 years

Photo

Nagi Rokuya [white side] RabbitChat

“Of course our fans won’t take their eyes off us, but let’s perform a live that will convey our feelings to them :-)”

Part 1-5

Part 1: Ichiban Kuji

Tsumugi: Good work, Nagi-san.

Why! Ichiban Kuji is going to release IDOLiSH7 goods again…!

Nagi: Good work, Tsumugi.

So we’re doing another collaboration X-)

Nagi: If it’s Ichiban Kuji, this event can be called a fierce competition for our devotees. Completing a Kokoka set was already hard ;-(((((

Tsumugi: So you look forward to the collaboration!

Tsumugi: Collecting Kokona-chan goods looks tough!

You have to wait in lines right?

Nagi: There are a lot of fans of Kokona goods, and we so-called adult fans have really good manners.

When the stores open, we calmly line up without rushing or running.

Tsumugi: I see…!

It’d be good if there was a way to spread our goods to all our fans….

Nagi: That’s a never-ending theme.

Let’s think of what we can do for our fans together!

Tsumugi: Thank you!

Please lend me your wisdom, Nagi-san…!

Nagi: I’m waiting for the details of the lineup o(´∇｀*o) (o´∇`)o

Tsumugi: Oh, speaking of the lineup, TRIGGER is releasing products at the same time.

Tsumugi: In addition, the Ichiban Kuji Awards will be held.

It’s been decided we will have a contest with TRIGGER on stage, and the fans watching get to vote.

Nagi: Hm, this is a new endeavor.

Let’s not let TRIGGER’s female fans take their eyes off us.

Tsumugi: I look forward to it…!

I’m anticipating Nagi-san’s performance!

Nagi: I’m also looking forward to your staging, Tsumugi.

Nagi: I still remember how moved I was when “Pythagoras☆Fighter” was first performed, and the live staging matched the melody.

Nagi: Yamato says each time it’s like pro wrestling, but it’s thanks to you that we can perform at full power.

Tsumugi: Nagi-san….

Tsumugi: I’m glad you think that.

I also get very spirited whenever I see your performance, Nagi-san!

Nagi: Thank you, Tsumugi.

At the Ichiban Kuji Awards, of course our fans won’t take their eyes off us, but let’s perform a live that will convey our feelings to them :-)

Tsumugi: Yes!

I look forward to it…!

Nagi: :-))))

Part 2: Memories of the Day Off

Tsumugi: Good work, Nagi-san.

We’re thinking of what Ichiban Kuji promotions to do this time, but can you tell me if there’s anything you want to do, Nagi-san?

Nagi: Tsumugi, thanks.

Promotions? Iori seems better at making these kinds of plans, so is asking me okay?

Tsumugi: Yes!

I’d like to consider everyone’s opinion, including Iori-san’s.

Tsumugi: By the way, I don’t know if this is helpful, but I sent you the rough draft of your costume, Nagi-san!

Nagi: Thank you.

I like this bard-like design. I’ll captivate more and more women around the world.

Tsumugi: You look stylish in both cute and cool outfits, Nagi-san, so I think you’ll surely look good in the outfit this time!

Nagi: Wonderful.

By the way, what’s meaning behind this fantastic outfit?

Tsumugi: I heard it was made in the image of white knights!

TRIGGER is black knights.

Nagi: These outfits are exquisite.

Let’s first reveal the key visual on the web page. The impact will be big. The power of visuals is great after all.

Tsumugi: The product lineup hasn’t been decided yet, so only the visual will be released first….

Thank you!

Nagi: Are you not going to show me the other members’ costumes? :-3

Tsumugi: Since it’s a long-awaited collaboration, I wanted everyone to be surprised, so I’ve only shown everyone their own costumes…!

Nagi: As expected of Tsumugi. You’re good at making us “wait”.

You’re amazing at this, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: T-thank you…?

Tsumugi: Speaking of which, Riku-san told me he was looking forward to everyone’s costumes, but won’t Nagi-san look stylish in a cool costume that makes you look like you popped out of a picture book?

Option 1

Tsumugi: He’s right!

Nagi: As expected Riku really has an eye for people.

He received a lot of care, so he can tell apart kind and unkind people, he told me. He’s incredibly perceptive.

Option 2

Tsumugi: What do you anticipate, Nagi-san?!

Nagi: I want Riku to wear more cute costumes.

It’ll be a sight to see on whether the production company can devise a costume that shows Riku’s charms (dark smile)

Option 3

Tsumugi: It’s great that you’re matching with Riku-san!

Nagi: We’re like two parts of a whole! How admirable!

Will we wear matching ribbons on our chests?

Nagi: I also want to wait in line in disguise at a shop on that day, but of course it might be difficult in the morning ;-(?

It’s not like when I went with Riku to the TRIGGER radio recording studio.

Tsumugi: You can get goods samples later, so be patient until then…! Sorry ><

Nagi: OK X-D

As a devotee, going there is a necessary task, but I will wait for the samples.

Tsumugi: Thank you ><

Speaking of TRIGGER’s radio recording studio, you meant when you spent your day off with Riku-san, right? How nostalgic! lol

Nagi: It’s a good memory of when I spoke directly into Kujou-shi’s mind with Kokona’s magical stick.

It was a great day where I got to feel Kokona’s magnificence once again.

Tsumugi: You also went to a collab café!

However, please stop disguising in mafia cosplay! lol

Nagi: No one can win against Riku’s begging.

Thanks to him, I got the Kokona coaster. I remember that moment like it was yesterday.

Nagi: I won’t wear a mafia cosplay outside again. I got carried away with Riku’s idea…. It was my first experience with girls being scared of me and not making eye contact.

Tsumugi: It gradually came back to me! On the radio, TRIGGER angrily said, “Don’t make me laugh”….

Tsunashi-san laughed and said, “The mafia came,” without getting mad, >< but I was terrified…!

Nagi: Yaotome-shi glanced at us seven times X-P

Nagi: However, now we’re going to collaborate with TRIGGER for Ichiban Kuji.

How wonderful.

Tsumugi: Indeed…!

Thanks to everyone, a wonderful plan for your namesake program is set in motion. Thank you for bringing me to this sparkling world…!

Nagi: That is my line, Tsumugi.

Shall we continue to walk together?

Tsumugi: Of course…!

I look forward to it!

Nagi: (´∀｀b)

Tsumugi: (´∀｀b)

Part 3: Costumes and Rehearsal

Tsumugi: Good work, Nagi-san!

The costume fitting and rehearsal for the Ichiban Kuji Awards were today, how was it?

Nagi: Good work, Tsumugi.

Nagi: Everyone’s props were clanking against each other. I have gained the skill of narrowly dodging props :-(

Tsumugi: So it’s like that after all….

Tamaki-san also told me they hit him quite a lot, so I’ll make plans to improve them. I’ve caused you trouble…!

Nagi: It’s not a problem, Tsumugi.

Tamaki looked like he had fun.

Nagi: Tamaki told Yamato, “Your cloak looks like a Christmas tree,” and poked him with his sheathed sword.

I photographed that scene.

Nagi: Here is the photographic evidence.

Tsumugi: I-indeed! They didn’t notice you…!

There weren’t any injuries, right…?

Nagi: It’s fine. Since it was just a little poke.

I told Yamato Tsumugi would get sad if the props were damaged, and they meekly stopped.

Tsumugi: Phew…!

Thank you for your support, Nagi-san ><

Nagi: No problem. My reward is a passionate kiss from you, Tsumugi.

Tsumugi: I can’t do that, but I’ll support everyone with the same passionate feelings!

Option 1

Tsumugi: What was Sougo-san’s situation?

Nagi: He was with Riku, who was enviously chatting about and looking at Tamaki and Yamato’s sword fight. Since Sougo had a staff, and both Riku and I don’t have weapons.

Nagi: Mitsuki appointed me to the photography team, so I took pictures of the 2 of them.

Option 2

Tsumugi: What was Mitsuki-san’s situation?

Nagi: Since Riku looked a bit lonely because he didn’t have a weapon, Mitsuki couldn’t just do nothing so he spent time with Riku. He told him some kind of fairy tale about characters wearing our costumes.

Nagi: Even though I also didn’t have a weapon, Mitsuki said, “Nagi is in the photography team!” and didn’t spend time with me, so I was a bit lonely ;-(

Option 3

Tsumugi: What was Iori-san’s situation?

Nagi: Mitsuki appointed me to the photography team, so when I was interviewing Iori, he highly praised Mitsuki’s costume.

Nagi: As expected of brothers, Mitsuki also also thought Iori’s costume looked good and gave it his seal of approval.

Nagi: I’ll send you the photos in a ZIP file later.

I think you can use them for promotion.

Tsumugi: Y-you’ve thought up this much…!

Thank you! I’ll accept your offer, I look forward to the data!

Nagi: It’s for Tsumugi and IDOLiSH7’s sake.

Nagi: By the way, TRIGGER shows up in some of the photos, and I thought we needed permission so I also took the liberty of consulting TRIGGER’s manager.

Tsumugi: Really…?!

Nagi: It’s OK if they show up this amount, she said.

However, for some reason she looked like she was in a bad state.

Tsumugi: I’m worried about her health…. Is she really busy….

Thank you for checking. I’ll also check!

Part 4: Talking About Goods

Nagi: Tsumugi, please look here.

I’ve continued taking photos, and sent you pictures of the dorm covered in goods.

Tsumugi: Thank you, Nagi-san.

Really?! How fun!

Nagi: Here’s the 1st picture.

Nagi: Title: Onii-san, as a Christmas tree.

Tsumugi: The cushion is wrapped in red and green tinsel…?!

Was Yamato-san not angry? lol

Nagi: I silently took the tinsel, wrapped it around my neck, and left.

Tsumugi: Silently…! lol

Nagi: Continuing on to the 2nd picture.

Nagi: Title: Excuse me from the bathroom.

Tsumugi: A poster was hung in the bathroom?! lol

Nagi: Tamaki used tape so as to not damage the wall.

Nagi: Well, just sending the next picture to you is uninteresting, so please guess what the next picture is from the title X-D

Tsumugi: A quiz! Leave it to me!

Nagi: Title: OSK Strengthening Month –Closing Party-

Tsumugi: It is still May so is it something related to Sougo-san?!

Option 1

Tsumugi: A picture of only Sougo-san’s goods?!

Nagi: Amazing, Tsumugi.

You’re very close.

Option 2

Tsumugi: A picture of Sougo-san’s acrylic key chain around a Tabasco bottle?!

Nagi: That’s what you’d think. Indeed Tsumugi, Tabasco comes to one’s mind. You’re close!

Option 3

Tsumugi: A picture of everyone’s autographs on Sougo-san’s goods?!

Nagi: Like when we collected our autographs during B or W right?

So that’s your viewpoint, Tsumugi!

Nagi: The answer is, a picture of Sougo’s goods, with TRIGGER’s goods arranged around them.

Tsumugi: Amazing!!

It’s like an altar!

Nagi: This is what Sougo said when he saw it.

Nagi: “That’s disrespectful, so can you return it to how it was? But, can you give me the picture…. (My Last Will and Testament)”

Tsumugi: W-will?!

Nagi: Excuse me. Only I was supposed to hear that message, but I accidentally sent it to you.

Tsumugi: His birthday is over but it’s still May, so Sougo-san must be happy!

Nagi: If TRIGGER is near us during rehearsal, observing them is the one thing that will make Sougo happy.

Tsumugi: I’m somewhat worried, but let’s concentrate on rehearsal tomorrow! lol

Nagi: Of course (dark smile)

Part 5: Towards the Awards

Tsumugi: Good work, Nagi-san.

Tomorrow is finally the Ichiban Kuji Awards performance…!

Nagi: Good work.

Tomorrow I will charm all the girls in the world again.

Tsumugi: Indeed! lol

Please show off your charm to your heart’s content, Nagi-san!

Nagi: Today’s briefing also had a nice atmosphere.

Tomorrow’s live will surely be a big success.

Tsumugi: I think so too.

Everyone has calmed down! In a good sense, we had room to breathe, one could say…!

Nagi: We’ve faced and overcome many trials.

That moonlit night we danced near Zero Arena, I can’t forget it.

Tsumugi: Me too. I’ve somehow never danced before, but thanks to you, Nagi-san, I had a really fun night.

Nagi: I’m honored you said that, Tsumugi.

Like that night, will you dance with me again?

Tsumugi: If it’s okay…!

Kinako also has a good sense of sound and is good at dancing! Let’s dance together!

Nagi: If Kinako participates, will the president also come?

Tsumugi: Is that a problem? ><

Nagi: No, not at all ;-P

Tsumugi: Kinako will dance to any song!

The other day we were listening to “MEMORiES MELODiES” and “Leopard Eyes” lol

Nagi: Kinako is a mysterious rabbit. I memorized the dance in the “Leopard Eyes” MV after I saw it once. I also like it.

Tsumugi: Is that so…?! Which part do you like, Nagi-san?

Option 1

Tsumugi: The overall melody?

Nagi: Unlike us, they finish up coolly.

I don’t usually listen to this genre, so it sticks in my head.

Option 2

Tsumugi: The way everyone sings?

Nagi: TRIGGER’s way of singing overall uses vibrato effectively and the sexiness stands out.

Option 3

Tsumugi: The production of the MV?

Nagi: I’m concerned about why they want to strip, but it’s appropriate for the MV.

Tsumugi: While talking with TRIGGER, they also told me their favorite song of ours, and Tsunashi-san said he also likes “MEMORiES MELODiES”!

Nagi: The song we sung at B or W?

We won, but I’m glad he said he honestly likes the song from that time.

Tsumugi: Yes.

Thinking back on that time, have we also grown…?

Nagi: Don’t worry, Tsumugi.

There’s nothing to worry about.

Nagi: Sometimes it’s good, so please try thinking back.

With the fans’ support, we should overcome many challenges. There’s nothing to fear.

Tsumugi: I’m always encouraged by you, Nagi-san….

I might cry. Thank you. It’s fine to keep going the way we always have!

Nagi: I cannot always face ahead, but when I see the members’ faces, the unpleasant feelings fly away.

Where there’s worry, hello! Confidence is coming.

Tsumugi: I love IDOLiSH7.

From now on, so that we make a lot of people smile with our music, everyone please stay by my side!

Nagi: We can’t start a legend without you, Tsumugi.

Well, tomorrow starts early, so good night. Sweet dreams.

Tsumugi: Sorry for making you stay up with me this late….

Good night, Nagi-san.

Nagi: Ti penso. :-*) (1)

Screenshots courtesy of rabbit-library.

(1) “I think of you” in Italian.

#idolish7 #nagi rokuya #rabbitchat #translation

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