#normally I welcome the holiday pay

[gotham-response]

[indigodawns]

.

[maidservant-hecubus]

My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.

 "What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.

I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"

[buckets-and-trees]

Now That I Saw You

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Finally home from the work trip to Norway where things changed with your boss, you are uncertain about what the future means exactly, but eager to see him again. Sequel to What You Want.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, body reverence/worship, use of "plum" as a term of endearment, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: My August entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the BODY WORSHIP prompt and week 3 of Hot Bucky Summer hitting up that SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE prompt.

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Normal breathing, you thought to yourself as the driver pulled up the drive of the massive estate of Alexander Pierce, one of the senior partners of the law firm where you worked. This was your first time attending the firm’s New Year’s Eve party since you’d only begun working for Bucky in the early spring, and although you were only Bucky’s assistant, you had heard enough directly and indirectly to know that making an appearance here mattered. Bucky had insisted that you didn’t need to feel obligated to come – especially since he’d kept you away from your family over Christmas when the weather had made it impossible to fly home from the business trip to Norway. He had even insisted on paying for flights for you to go straight home instead of making the long drive to your hometown.

What he didn’t know was that you had called and changed your return flight from January 2 to December 31.

Bucky was close to making partner, and you wanted to show that you were one of the small but dedicated team he had in his office that took their work supporting Bucky seriously.

And while being home for some delayed holiday time with your family had been nice, the longer you were there, the more you were itching to get back to New York and figure out what life was going to look like with your boss post-Norway.

Five days of normal business followed by the three “stranded” days of Nordic adventures, shopping, sightseeing, dining, spoiling, and so much sex. So much sex.

With Bucky.

Your boss.

A valet stepped up to open your door as the Uber driver stopped in the circular receiving area of the driveway at the front of the mansion. As you stepped out and began walking up the steps, you were glad you went with the modest heels rather than the strappy high heels your best friend had tried to coax you to pick when you FaceTimed her while getting ready. Since you were nervous about enough other things, you didn’t need to worry about your shoes tonight.

Things like the bolder shade of lipstick you’d put on, or the sexiest dress you’d ever worn, or simply the fact that you didn’t know where everything that happened in Norway left you with Bucky Barnes.

Minor things to trifle over, really.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

As you approached the coat check, you couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding you. The foyer was a masterpiece of marble and gold, with a grand staircase sweeping upwards and crystal chandeliers twinkling overhead. You were enveloped by a pleasantly thick scent of gardenias and champagne, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and tinkling laughter from the rooms beyond.

You slipped off your coat, revealing the dress you'd agonized over for hours. It was a deep emerald green, hugging your curves before falling in a silky waterfall to your ankles. The neckline dipped low, and the back was even lower, leaving you feeling both sophisticated and slightly exposed.

The attendant handed you a small golden ticket in exchange for your coat, and you tucked it carefully into your clutch. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead. The butterflies in your stomach were performing an intricate ballet, a mix of excitement and nerves that left you feeling slightly lightheaded.

As you turned to face the grand ballroom, you were immediately enveloped by the soft glow of candlelight and the gentle tinkling of champagne glasses. The room was a vision of elegance, with towering floral arrangements adorning every table and shimmering gold accents catching the light. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversation and laughter, the tinkling of champagne flutes, and the soft strains of a live orchestra.

You took a tentative step forward, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The sea of designer gowns and tailored suits was intimidating, and you found yourself second-guessing your decision to attend. Just as you were considering a hasty retreat, a warm, familiar voice called your name.

"Hey there, stranger! I was hoping you'd make it tonight."

You turned to see Steve Rogers, Bucky's best friend and fellow lawyer at the firm. He approached, moving with a swift grace as he always did, his broad shoulders filling out an impeccably tailored navy suit, a glass of champagne in each hand. He’d be intimidating if you hadn’t forged a wonderfully warm friendship over the past months working in the office. You admired how much he wanted to take care of those around him, unafraid to speak up whenever needed, and equally ready to make someone smile.

Even now, the tension in your shoulders eased at the sight of him and his bright smile.

“Bucky will be happy to see you!”

You ducked your head a moment, taking a sip of the champagne he offered. “He will?”

“I don’t think he could tie his shoes anymore without you,” Steve exaggerated, but the compliment warmed your insides anyway.

Steve offered you his arm and then led you further into the party.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the event. Everywhere you looked, your eyes drank in more exquisite details infusing the atmosphere. You passed by a magnificent ice sculpture of the firm's logo, its edges glinting in the candlelight. You passed by tables laden with delicacies from around the world - tiny caviar-topped blinis, glistening oysters nestled in beds of ice, and delicate pastries that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Waiters in crisp white jackets glided effortlessly through the crowd, their trays balanced with flutes of golden champagne and jewel-toned cocktails.

You couldn't help but feel a bit like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Each new sight was more wondrous than the last. To your left, a living statue covered in shimmering gold paint posed gracefully atop a pedestal, her movements so subtle you had to blink to be sure she was real. To your right, an aerialist in a glittering silver bodysuit performed breathtaking feats on silks suspended from the vaulted ceiling, twirling and spinning in mesmerizing patterns.

Near them, a group of women in shimmering gowns laughed melodiously, their jewelry catching the light with every gesture. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking. You noticed Alexander Pierce himself holding court near a grand fireplace, his silver hair gleaming as he regaled a captive audience with what was surely a riveting anecdote.

As you and Steve wove through the crowd, your eyes continued to roam, searching for one face in particular. The anticipation built with each passing moment, your heart quickening its pace. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, your gaze was pulled across the room to finally land on Bucky Barnes, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was newly trimmed since you last saw him, sleek in a way that made your fingers itch to rake through it and over his scalp. He was engaged in conversation with a small group, his head thrown back in laughter at something someone had said.

Suddenly, Bucky's attention shifted to you, his eyes locking onto yours across the bustling room. The laughter died on his lips, replaced with a bit of wonder and an impossibly charming grin. Immediately heat was pooling in your stomach, nerves somewhat calmed, but a different itch pitching inside you.

The world seemed to slow down as Bucky excused himself from his group and began making his way towards you. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him approach, his eyes never leaving yours. The crowded room seemed to part for him, or perhaps it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

As he drew closer, you could see the slight widening of his eyes as he took in your appearance. His gaze traveled slowly from your face down to your toes and back up again, lingering on the curves accentuated by your dress. When his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your skin tingle and memories of your time in Norway together flash vividly through your mind.

"You're here," Bucky said softly as he reached you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I thought you were still with your family."

You smiled, trying to keep your voice steady. "I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's okay?"

"More than okay," he murmured, his eyes still roaming over you appreciatively. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself," you replied, taking in his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

Steve cleared his throat beside you, reminding you both of his presence. "I'll leave you two to catch up," he said with a knowing smile, giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Suddenly alone with Bucky, you felt the air between you crackle with tension. The noise of the party faded into the background as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze.

"Can I get you a drink?" Bucky asked, gesturing towards the bar.

You lifted your half-empty champagne flute. "I could use a refill," you said with a smile.

Bucky's hand found the small of your back as he guided you towards the bar, the possessive heat of his touch sending flames radiating across your skin. You were acutely aware of every point of contact between you, rejoicing and regretting over choosing the dangerously low and exposed back that allowed him skin to skin access in this moment.

As you waited for your drinks, Bucky leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Since Norway, you’ve been on my mind constantly.

Your heart raced at his words, memories of passionate nights, morning, afternoons, and so many stolen kisses streaming through your mind. "I couldn't stay away," you admitted softly. "I needed to see you."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze dropping to your lips. For a moment, you thought Bucky might kiss you right there, in full view of everyone. But he seemed to catch himself, remembering where you were. Instead, he reached past you to collect your drinks from the bartender - a flute of golden champagne for you and a tumbler of amber whiskey for himself.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice husky and filled with promise. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he led you away from the crowded ballroom.

Your heart raced as you followed him down a dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the party fading behind you. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. His fingers tightened around yours as he glanced back, a roguish glint in his eyes.

At the end of the hall, he paused before an ornate wooden door. With a quick look around, he turned the handle and drew you inside. You found yourself in a luxurious study, shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls and a grand desk dominating the center of the room.

Bucky took your glass and his and set them on the desk. Then his strong arms encircled your waist and drew you to him. "We shouldn't be in here," you whispered, even as excitement coursed through your veins.

"Shh," he replied, pulling you closer. His lips found yours in a searing kiss that made your knees weak. You melted against him, hands roaming over the broad planes of his shoulders.

As Bucky's lips moved against yours, all thoughts of propriety and caution melted away. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers curling into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, pent-up longing and desire pouring out between you.

Bucky's hands roamed your back, tracing the exposed skin left bare by your daring dress. And the way he touched you? Reverently worshipping the curves and plump flesh you were usually so insecure about? This was why you dared to show more than you typically did. He made you believe you were gorgeous. His touch ignited sparks along your spine, each caress stoking the fire building within you. You gasped as he nipped at your lower lip, using the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth.

The taste of whiskey on his lips mingled with the lingering champagne on yours, creating an intoxicating blend that left you dizzy with want. You pressed yourself closer, desperate to eliminate any space between your bodies. He slipped a finger beneath the strap on your shoulder and pushed it down, tugging until he freed one of your breasts. He hummed as he began to palm it with his large hand, and you arched into his touch.

Suddenly, Bucky broke the kiss, and spun you around. You gasped and brought both hands out to steady yourself on the edge of the desk.

Bucky's lips traced a burning path down the curve of your neck, pausing to nip gently at the sensitive spot where it met your shoulder. You shivered as his warm breath ghosted across your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. His kisses continued their southward journey, open-mouthed heat following the elegant line of your spine.

Each press of his lips felt like a spark igniting your nerve endings. The cool air of the study contrasted sharply with the heat of his mouth, creating a delicious tension that had you trembling. As he moved lower, his hands skimmed down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips with reverent appreciation.

As Bucky sank to his knees behind you, his hands slid down to your hips, his breath now teasing the small of your back. The anticipation built, your heart racing as you felt him gather the silky fabric of your dress in his hands, lifting it inch by tantalizing inch. The whisper of the material against your skin was electric, heightening every sensation. When he reached your hips, he paused, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your panties.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Slowly, reverently, he began to peel your panties down. The delicate lace clung to your curves before giving way, sliding down your thighs.

You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed skin, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Bucky's hands caressed your thighs, urging them apart, his touch both soothing and electrifying. You could feel his hot breath against your most intimate areas, causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky groaned, his voice husky with desire. "Missed tasting you."

Without further preamble, he leaned in and ran his tongue along your slit, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter as he began to explore you with his mouth, his skilled tongue alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, acutely aware of the party continuing just down the hall. One of his hands snaked around to caress your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations had you panting, struggling to keep quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. The thought of being caught only added to the intensity of sensations swirling through your body.

Bucky's tongue worked magic between your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. Your legs trembled as the pleasure built, threatening to overwhelm you. You bit down on your lip, desperately trying to muffle the moans that threatened to escape.

"Let me hear you, plum," Bucky murmured against your heated flesh. "I want to know how good I'm making you feel."

His words sent a shiver through you, and you allowed a soft whimper to escape.

Encouraged, Bucky redoubled his efforts, his tongue circling your clit with increasing pressure. One of his hands slid up your inner thigh, and you gasped as he slowly pushed two fingers inside you.

The dual sensations of his tongue on your clit and his fingers curling inside you had you seeing stars. Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his face as you chased your release. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Just as you were about to tumble over the precipice, the sound of approaching voices in the hallway made you freeze. Panic mingled with arousal as you realized how exposed you were, bent over the desk of what had to be Alexander Pierce’s private study.

But Bucky was undeterred, and you bit your lip to stifle your moans, acutely aware that you were in a semi-public space. The thought of getting caught only added to the thrill, your arousal only surging more, lapped up by his wicked tongue. He worshipped at the altar of your sex with so much devotion, you weren’t quite ready to think about the implications of yet.

Bucky's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The voices in the hallway grew closer, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"Bucky," you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. "Someone's coming."

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. "Then you better come first," he murmured, his voice muffled but determined.

The voices in the hallway grew louder, and you could make out snippets of conversation about quarterly reports and market projections. Your heart raced, torn between the need for release and the fear of discovery.

Bucky, however, seemed to relish the added excitement. His ministrations became more intense, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive bud while his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. The combination of pleasure and danger pushed you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," Bucky whispered against your heated flesh, his breath sending shivers through your body. "Let go, plum. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. The tension that had been building inside you finally snapped, and you came with a silent scream, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. Bucky's touch gentled, his fingers slipping out of you as he pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs. The voices in the hallway faded, moving past the study door without pause.

With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, your breath still coming in quick passes. Bucky helped drop the fabric of your dress back down to the floor and rose to his feet behind you. He turned you back around to face him and brought you back into his arms. You could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against you, but he seemed unconcerned over seeking his own relief.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "So beautiful when you come undone for me."

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your still exposed breast before then bringing your dress back up and over your shoulder, setting it completely right again.

Your hands slid up to loop around his neck. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly swollen from his ministrations.

"That was…" you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Amazing," Bucky finished for you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you.

But before either of you could be tempted into anything else, the voices in the hall returned.

"I'm telling you, Alexander, the Ultron account is a goldmine waiting to happen," a booming voice declared footsteps drew closer.

Bucky quickly reached for the drinks on the desk, pressing your champagne flute into your fingers. The he dipped to the floor, snatched up your panties, and pocketed them. You bit your lip, and he smirked at you.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Wilson, but I'm not convinced the risk is worth the potential reward," came Alexander Pierce's measured reply as the door opened.

"Barnes! There you are," Alexander Pierce's voice boomed as he entered the study, followed by two other senior partners. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure everyone could hear it.

Bucky turned, his body language relaxed and confident despite almost being caught in a compromising position.

"Mr. Pierce," Bucky greeted smoothly, his voice betraying none of the tension you felt. "I was just showing my assistant the impressive library you have here. We both share a passion for rare first editions."

You nodded. "It's truly remarkable," you managed, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

Pierce's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between you and Bucky, but his expression remained neutral. "Indeed it is," he said, moving towards one of the bookshelves. His hand swept over one of the shelves. "I'm particularly fond of this Hemingway collection. However, I’m afraid I can’t entertain you with its history and how I had to hunt them down presently. I’m actually glad we found you, Barnes. We have some urgent matters to discuss regarding the Stark Industries merger. I’d like to bring you in on it, if you’re game."

"Of course, sir,” Bucky nodded, his professional mask slipping for only the briefest of moments, but you saw the excitement there for the opportunity presented.

"Excellent," Pierce said, clapping his hands together. "Gentlemen, have a seat." He turned to you, his smile polite but dismissive. "Thank you for your interest in the collection, and, please, enjoy the rest of the party."

You nodded, understanding the clear directive. "Of course, Mr. Pierce. Thank you for your hospitality."

As you moved to leave, Bucky caught your eye. His gaze was intense, filled with unspoken promises. "I'll find you," he mouthed silently, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you slipped out of the study, leaving Bucky to his impromptu meeting. Your mind was reeling from the events of the last few minutes - the passionate encounter with Bucky, the near-miss of being caught. Mostly, though, you were happy you had come after all and were eager to spend the rest of the evening with Bucky. At a party like this where business and pleasure stood side by side, you knew the host couldn’t be gone in his study for long, and then Bucky would return to your side, and you’d be able to ring in the New Year just right.

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Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

It's been SO LONG since we've seen these two! I hope it was a nice return to them.

[gachagon]

This is big spoilers for the commercials in the Awayfrompryingeyes website on the Welcome Home site.

I've been saying since DAY 1 that Eddie Dear was going to be one of the most important Neighbors to pay attention too, aside from Julie, Frank, and Sally. And this update just practically confirmed it, I had this long running suspicion about Eddie Dear, and it's that I think he was one of the first besides Wally to gain sentience in a way.

I know most people believe Wally was the one who "woke" up first essentially and was able to see the reality of what they were actually living in, but I think Eddie Dear was the first of Wally's friends to actually wake up. My reasoning for this is that Eddie's "backstory" on the neighborhood page is so vague and strange compared to the other neighbors. He's the ONLY one who doesn't remember where he came from, and we see routinely throughout these updates that he's kind of the odd man out a lot of the times.

And that's not totally unusual for a kids show, but there's something about Eddie that just points to him being a lot different from the other puppets. Like that he's also the only one who's able to actually tell what time it is, as he's the only neighbor with a real watch.

And he really REALLY wants to fit so badly into the world of Welcome Home that he sticks to his job as a mailman as much as he can. But even looking at his interactions with the others, you can tell he's not quite playing the role he's been set as perfectly.

I don't think Home (the house) had anything to do with Eddie waking up, I actually think it was a combination of Eddie just not being able to mesh well with the part he has to play and the other characters breaking his routine without asking him. The moment that really shakes him is when he can hear the Narrator say "And Eddie Dear was happy." and i think that's because he really doesn't know if he is happy or not. Home is still strange because its obviously the one thing that Eddie fixates on when he first gains sentience, but I don't think its what shook him out of just being a puppet only.

Eddie is also so obviously playing along with the idea of Homewarming and doesn't actually know much about it. But he's not letting the others know this, as when he's alone is when he tells himself to just "focus on the festivities" instead of the other confusing parts of Homewarming. When he's with Poppy decorating the tree (with turkey...? and gravy...?) He just makes it seem like what they're doing is a no brainer, and something everyone does during the holidays.

But when he starts spiraling at the party, all of the things he helped decorate look strange and confusing to him. He can't focus on anything, staring into the wallpaper makes it seem worse, and the fabric of his own reality is literally being ripped at the seams (there's just an excessive amount of video tearing which I equate to Eddie's sense of sanity at the moment and just how present he really is)

It's here that Eddie finally realizes just what they're doing, and what everything really truly looks like. Eddie even tries to focus solely on Frank's face to sort of ground him, but the goddamned credits for the episode itself is playing over Frank's face and obscuring his vision. The scene itself wants to move on but Eddie is still able to see what the audience normally wouldn't be able too, and that split from his reality to ours is what makes him freak out in the end.

[pricelessemotion]

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time. 

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it. 

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container. 

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use. 

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye. 

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free. 

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this. 

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway. 

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there. 

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair. 

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.” 

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.  

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays. 

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.” 

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?” 

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.” 

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match. 

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no? 

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.  

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home. 

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore. 

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular. 

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn. 

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!” 

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you. 

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder. 

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice. 

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen. 

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch. 

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp. 

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower. 

You’re sinking. 

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him. 

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure. 

Stay. 

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.” 

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement. 

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines. 

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?” 

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door. 

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains. 

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.” 

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.  

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house. 

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you. 

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—” 

“Have to go?” He supplies. 

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open. 

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay. 

You’re the one who is always leaving. 

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds. 

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side. 

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again. 

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one. 

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone. 

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there. 

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you. 

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up. 

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors. 

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction. 

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.  

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks. 

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces. 

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom. 

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.  

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away. 

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.   

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”  

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you. 

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning. 

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away. 

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him. 

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears. 

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t. 

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.” 

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. 

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting. 

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out. 

You understand the feeling. 

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you. 

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun. 

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.   

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun. 

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

[silversodas]

The Fairly Odd Parents: A New Wish Observations

What actually sold me on giving this series a solid chance, was the theme song, why? Because for me it showed what the series is attempting to be, something that’s paying homage to the source material while being it’s own thing and knowing what it wants to be.

The original theme song is categorized as Electric Swing or Light Jazz. This new theme song sounds like straight up Swing and it SLAPS!

The Set Up

So Hazel Wells moves to the city with her parents for her Dads job and at the same time her older brother and best friend Antony has left for college. Leaving Hazel overwhelmed but still trying to put on a brave face for her family. Not long after arriving they are visited by their new next door neighbors

Cosmo and Wanda are masquerading as a retired human couple

Lol one of the gifts in the welcome basket Cosmo gives them is a jar of pennies. In some places it’s a thing to leave pennies as gifts for fairies, I wonder if Cosmo thought it was a custom human gift

The concept of the parents are pretty interesting, especially their jobs.

Angela is a therapist and author, with all of the non self awareness fairy world had going on her insight could definitely be interesting if she somehow finds out. she is also pretty open minded and non judgmental, not being off put by Cosmo and Wanda’s weird behavior and inviting them in

Marcus is a paranormal scientist, which instantly makes Cosmo and Wanda nervous but what makes him interesting is that he didn’t go in the direction I thought he was going. I thought he was going to go full FOP writing fashion and him basically say he was looking for fairies. But no, he is just wanting to learn the unexplained and mostly about ghost. I don’t know the fact that he is presented as a friend to Cosmo and Wanda who could be a potential obstacle because of the interest that are apart of his character is a lot more interesting then if he was presented as a blatantly obvious obstacle and that’s his only purpose as a character. ( not saying it was bad when FOP did it, they did it in a way that was funny just not to compelling)

Hazel figures out they are magic because both Cosmo and Wanda are piss poor at hiding it but Hazel actually completely drops it after being unable to get her parents to see it

Angela and Marcus actually make pretty good foils for Cosmo and Wanda they are both just completely normal people who highlight Cosmo and Wanda’s colorfulness just as they highlight Angela and Marcus’s normalcy. Hazel, Marcus, and Angela seem to be emotionally intelligent people and it makes them enjoyable and honestly is refreshing

This girl has more emotional maturity then I ever dreamed of having at 10, she keeps her brave face until she hears that Antony can’t come visit till the holiday brake, she has an understandable brake down and her parents feel really bad they are having to change so much so fast for her.

She almost runs away until Cosmo and Wanda catch her (which is interesting because when she passed them on her way up stairs they where to busy with their mail to pay attention to her, but when she is about to run away their full attention snapped to her. Their “child is about to do something stupid”senses must have been tingling) she relents and vents to them about her troubles and that she just wanted to see her brother.

Cosmo and Wanda seem to have a Cathartic moment in realizing that Hazel needed help and that they realized that they were ready to be Godparents again. It was this moment I was like “yeah, you guy’s definitely retired because letting go of Timmy hurt you”

It’s when after everything is resolved and Hazel visits their vary magical and whimsical apartment (I bought the episodes on YouTube but they wouldn’t let me take screen shots) that they reveal that they had been on a 10,000 year sabbatical through time and space during their retirement. They don’t bring up Timmy, just say that they used to be Godparents to kids but then retired for 10,000 years (and no it’s not 10,000 years into the future, they were just time traveling). They actually nervously ask Hazel if she would consider being their Godkid which she enthusiastically agrees too. Don’t make pacts with fairies kids

How it’s going so far

Something interesting to note that while they never bring up Timmy, he kinda haunts the background I think they still have some unprocessed grief for Timmy that may get unpacked. I herd this show is supposed to get an overarching story and after seeing a few episodes I can tell that it’s staying consistent that it’s not completely episodic even if it’s a slow build ( as slow as it’s allowed to be anyway)

It looks like their human personas are their default disguises, that has the potential to be interesting in future episodes

I can tell that Hazel is still not 100% close with Cosmo and Wanda right off the bat, she is still getting to know them, like it was actually so enduring to watch her formally thank them for playing with her. Cosmo and Wanda are also trying to ease themselves in for her sake, but it’s clear that even though they are out of practice they are all in for this little girl and are in Godparent mode. Wanda is never not in Mom mode, and Cosmo already knows all of her special interests off the top of his head in the short time he has known her.

I don’t know, I just saw that a lot of people have been “rightfully” cautious about this show or have written it off, and just wanted to share some things that I thought made it interesting and made it worth giving a look

There are some who are a bit hopeful because one of the writers for infinity train is on the writing team so who knows

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Pt.3

"You're here!"

Steve looks around for the emergency but all he sees is Eddie's smiling face. More specifically, Eddie tangled in lights.

"Help me hang these Christmas lights."

"You know its a crime to report something false."

"What! I need help!" He jiggles the Christmas lights in his hand. "And how else was i supposed to see you it's not like I've been threatened recently," he pouts. Steve's caught in his puppy dog eyes.

"You don't need excuses to see me Munson."

Eddie's smirks his way, eyelashes fluttering. "I don't?" His grin is wicked.

"No, we could act like normal people, you didn't have to tell Max it was life or death."

"Sounds like you wanna be my friend Stevie."

"Uhuh and you just wanted to see me because...?"

"Oh officer, friend doesn't even begin to cover what I want to be with you."

Steve's face is bright pink.

"Like best friends?"

Nice. Good cover.

Eddie cackles at his stupidity.

"You're so cute Stevie," His eyes are glistening when they meet. "Now chop chop!" He claps his hands together. "There are lights to be hung!"

They spend the next couple of hours decorating. Eddie even shows Steve some bartender tricks with the whipped cream can he uses to top the hot chocolate he made.

Steve has never had so much fun in his life. Eddie is a force and he wonders how he went so long without him in his life.

No! Bad! Be civil! Be friends!

Eddie's flirting is friendly. Friends can flirt!

He's enjoying himself too much and he doesn't want to lose this. Doesn't want to lose this newfound thing he has.

"You ok over there?" Eddie looks at him concerned.

"Yeah! I was just thinking about...presents!"

Another genius save.

"Oh yeah? You a master gift giver?" There's a teasing tone in the line.

"I mean I try my best. I can definitely wrap a present without using multiple rolls of tape now."

"Wow that's tough to beat."

"Haha...what about you?"

"What about me? Am I master giver~"

"Psh What! NO! I meant what do you do for the holidays."

"Ok ok," Eddie chuckles. "I spend the holidays by working the bar of course. I spend the morning with my Uncle, he normally comes into town the night before. We trade very manly presents and then I go to work and tend to sad drunk people."

"Do you enjoy that? I mean I don't even talk to my family but I have this giant pseudo family that makes sure I'm on task for holidays."

"I kind of do, like the drunks and I both try to give a good Christmas you know?"

The phone rang in the back and Eddie ran to get it. Since it was so early the phone had to be for emergencies.

Steve waited for him to come back while snooping around behind the bar. There was tons of photos of Eddie with the rest of his employees and most of them look like they were taken when they were kids. Steve had known they were all friends but he didn't realize to what extent. It made his heart warm.

He was glad he had Robin and El and all of her other little friends. He didn't really see them all until he moved into the Hoppers and they stuck to him like weeds.

He heard muffled shouting and a slight bang and then Eddie was storming back in.

"That stupid stubborn bastard-"

"What's up Eds?"

Eddie turns around like he forgot Steve was there.

"Shit, sorry. That was Wayne. He won't be coming into town till New Years. They asked him to work and he said YES! Even though I could pay him for the work days he was missing he still wants to be seen as reliable as if he hasn't worked for them for twenty years already."

"Shit."

"Exactly," Eddie runs a hand through his hair in grief and it gives Steve an idea.

"You know, if you have to work on Christmas you're welcome to join me for Christmas morning?"

Eddie gives him a blank expression.

"You want me to spend Christmas with you?" His cheeks are pink.

"Well...if you want to, it'd be me, Robin, and the rest of the crew. About twenty of us in total."

"I'll have to think on it, I wouldn't want to impose."

"You wouldn't though! I offered."

"Ok Stevie," Eddie gives him a fond look. "I'll let you know."

---

I literally have the rest of this story written 😅 let me know if I should post it all at once.

Please leave comments! And thank you for reading!

[miss-hyoko]

HIIIII !!! can i please have a "babysitting cheka" klepon with bae leona <3 i can totally imagine leona sees him as a little competitor for our attention, like he would sulk when he sees us cuddle-napping with cheka <333 have a great day kakk!!

"Thank you for your patience, dear customer. Here's your food, [Babysitting Cheka] klepon. I hope the food is to your liking."

Babysitting Cheka

Character(s): Leona

Summary: Leona's not very happy you pay too much attention to Cheka

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!reader, fluff, romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, Cheka makes a cameo, jealous protective Leona

Note: Hope you don't mind that I changed the ask a bit to add more DRAMA make it even better for y'all Leona's simp😌👉👈

Most students would say that the most dreadful days are exam week, but for Leona, the holiday season is the real hell.

Holidays are fun, he admits that, but Leona couldn't really enjoy it because he had to go back to the palace, his so-called 'home' where many people didn't truly welcome his return.

Fortunately, this holiday, you will also come back with him as his fiancé(e). As long as you're by his side, that damned place he called 'home' would become less unbearable.

… or at least, that's what he thought.

***

Normally, Leona would be fast asleep in mere seconds. But after a few minutes lying down with his eyes closed, he still couldn't fall asleep. Forget sleeping, he just got even more irritated as time went on.

And it's all because of you. More precisely, it's because the child who's currently playing with you, taking all your attention that should belong to Leona. His nephew, Cheka Kingscholar.

How can Leona fall asleep when you, his favorite pillow, are spending time with that brat instead of accompanying him to sleep?

Also, why did you two choose to play in his room when the palace has a perfectly able courtyard?!

Leona's patience finally ran out when he realized that his scent that he had left on you was starting to be covered with Cheka's own scent.

“Oi, brat! Let go of my fiancé(e) and go play by yourself.” Leona got up from his bed then approached you and Cheka who were playing some kind of board game.

“Ah, Unca! Do you want to play with us?” The boy beside you waved his hands excitedly, inviting his uncle with eyes full of hope.

Leona only gave a light snort, neither rejecting nor agreeing to his nephew's request. Instead, he looks straight at you.

“Herbivore, I'm sleepy,” he tells you matter of fact, signaling that he wants you to accompany him to sleep.

Before you could reply to him, Cheka threw himself at you and hugged you tightly, preventing you from moving any further.

“No!” He half yelled, looking at Leona with puffed cheeks, “Unca can sleep alone! I still want to play with unca/aunt (Name)!”

A frown appeared on Leona's forehead when he heard his nephew's words. Nevertheless, he still tried to control his emotions in front of Cheka who's blatantly trying to take you away from him.

“Brat, in case you forget, the herbivore is MY fiancé(e). Not yours. They had NO obligation to keep you company or play with you.”

“It's because unca didn't want to play with me, so I'll play with unca/aunt (Name) instead.” Cheka replied, hugging you even tighter.

“Oh, so now it's my fault?”

The uncle-nephew pair start debating about who's going to spend time with you.

You can't help but find the situation a little amusing. Especially, when you see Leona's annoyed face facing Cheka's pouty one.

Even though you want to enjoy their childish fight a little longer, you know you can't let this continue.

“Oh my, look at the time now~ it's the time for little ones to take a nap,” you said in a sing-song voice, slowly carrying Cheka on your hip.

Seeing you take his side, the frown on Leona's face lessened a bit and he looked haughtily at Cheka while crossing his arms.

“You hear that, brat? It's nap time. Go back to your room and take your damn nap. Don't disturb us again.”

Cheka who was in your arms suddenly became dispirited. His eyes started to get teary and his lips trembled ever so slightly.

That made Leona smile even wider, feeling very proud of his victory. When he tried to gloat again, he heard you continue talking.

“That being said, why don't we take a nap together with your uncle?”

“Hah?!”

“Yay!"

Hearing your suggestion, both of them immediately gave two different responses. Leona was dumbfounded, meanwhile Cheka became excited.

Although Leona was very dissatisfied with your stupid idea, he really couldn't say no to you. Hence, he finally compromised and lets Cheka sleep with the two of you.

The three of you take a nap together in Leona's room. You sleep in between the two lions, Cheka in the front while Leona is behind you. In the middle of your sleep, Leona instinctively wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face against your shoulder. Unbeknownst to you, Leona quietly got rid of Cheka's scent that had clung to you using his own scent.

Only after you're covered once again with his scent did Leona stop his action, smile satisfyingly, and go back to sleep.

[unhappycylinder]

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x fem!Reader) Pt. 11

WC: 1.6 k

no warnings

the reunion finally happens

The carrier was finally docked, hoards of sailors fled the vessel as wives, husbands, parents, and children flocked to the water’s edge to get their first glimpse of their loved ones in over 3 months. The aviators often weren’t the first ones off, so you and a now heavily pregnant Gabby waited patiently in Rooster’s bronco.

“Look I love my husband but I’d sooner die than stand out in the cold waiting for thousands of men who may or may not be my husband to get off a damn boat” Gabby groaned, running her hands over her baby bump. 

“I haven’t seen any flight suits walk off yet,” you peered through a pair of binoculars Rooster kept in the glove compartment, “once we see them we can head over”

“Ugh,” she exclaimed, “Fine, but I’m gonna complain the whole walk down, I hope you know”

“Oh Gabby…I know” you chuckled.

Coming down on long weekends was routine at this point. Gabby insisted on paying for your flights, you always refused, yet somehow a plane ticket always appeared in your phone wallet a couple days prior to each holiday weekend. This one was special though. Jake’s arrival coincided with MLK day, and you had come down as soon as possible to ensure you were there to welcome him home.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t petrified at the idea of seeing him again. Yes you were back together, and yes you had been talking on the phone every chance he had, but things still didn’t feel normal. His behavior still hurt and worried you, and even though he promised to never hurt you again, you couldn’t help but wonder if he would keep up the pattern when he got home. After all, college wasn’t over for another four months, and in the history of your relationship with Jake, long breaks in seeing each other hadn’t exactly been the healthiest in the past.

Gabby reclined against the headrest of the driver’s seat, “just wake me up when they’re here”

Chuckling, you agreed, and continued to peer through the binoculars as sailors and their luggage came down the carrier ramp.

After what felt like years, you finally spotted the green flight suits that you were oh so familiar with, and through the binoculars you could make out the faint details of mustaches on the faces of many of the aviators. 

“Gabby I see Rooster,” you squealed, moving a hand from the binoculars to wack her thigh.

“Hm?” She hummed, still asleep.

“Your husband is here bitch,” you said flatly, making her laugh.

“Ughhhh okay lets go get the idiots.” She said as she slid out the door of the bronco. You stored the binoculars before doing the same.

“This marks the end of our peace,” Gabby joked as you both walked from the parking lot to the greeting area, “and the end of my spending rampage”

“That’s the worst part huh,” you laughed

“You know it…let’s just hope he forgets to check his credit account when he gets home,” she inhaled, shaking her head.

As you made your way to the crowd of people greeting their family members, the anxiety about seeing Jake for the first time swelled. Gabby grabbed your hand, sensing your feelings, to let you know that she was there to support you. Taking a deep breath, you and Gabby scanned the incoming sailors for your men. Rooster was quick to spot you, you standing several inches taller than your friend, and a bright smile broke out on his face as he picked up speed to get to you two. 

“I see Rooster,” you said to Gabby, her face lighting up at the mention of his name

Seconds later Rooster broke through the crowd, his hair slicked back and his mustache freshly trimmed. He stopped a couple feet from Gabby, eyes scanning up and down her form, taking an extra second at her belly when he saw just how far along she was. Tears welled in his eyes as they met hers, which were now brimming with tears as well.

“Don’t just stand there pendejo,” her words quivered, “get over here”

Rooster rushed to embrace her, his bags dropping to the ground as his strong arms held his wife close, his calloused hands pulling her towards him from her lower back. You smiled at the couple as they embraced…despite how much they teased each other and complained, they loved each other more than words could ever describe, and they were gonna be great parents. 

Rooster came down to capture Gabby’s lips in a passionate kiss, which they remained in for an impressively long time without coming up for air. His hands ran all over her back, taking in every inch of his wife while pushing the appropriate boundaries of what he could touch in public.

Grinning at the happy couple who still had yet to let go of each other, you failed to notice the group of five other flight-suit-clad aviators who had appeared behind you. The sound of a man clearing his throat broke you from your trance. Turning around, you were greeted by Jake….and his new mustache.

Fuck he looked hot.

Tears sprang from your eyes instantly, your feet taking off running towards him before you could even command them to do so. You launched yourself into his arms, his hands scooping you up by your ass as your legs locked around his waist and your face nuzzled into his neck.

“Oh y/n,” he hummed into your hair, sending a shiver down your spine, “I’ve missed you darlin’” 

He rocked from side to side, his hands gripping your ass tighter the longer you held on. You couldn’t stop yourself from sobbing no matter how hard you protested. Finally lifting your head from the crook of his neck, you grasped the sides of his face with your hands.

“You have a mustache,” was all you could croak out. Jake laughed, his smile curling the ends of the facial hair, making you die a little inside.

“Yeah, doll, I do,” his accent sounded sweeter than you remembered, “you like it?”

“Fuck Jake,” you kissed him briefly, pulling away before he could deepen the kiss, “I love it”

“Come here,” he grumbled, pulling you down by the base of your neck to meet his lips, your mouths working together as you made out with him. Cheers erupted from the other aviators, who had, unbeknownst to you, been watching the whole ordeal unfold. 

“I missed you so much,” you cried to him as he set you down, enveloping you in his strong arms once your feet were on the ground.

“I know baby, I know. I missed you like crazy,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’m so sorry Y/n…for everything” he whispered into your ear.

You sighed, pulling away to look him in the eyes. He meant it, you could see that, “its okay. We’re okay, right?”

“You tell me, gorgeous, do you forgive me?”

“Yeah, Jake, I do.” You played with his mustache, making him smile.

“Alright y’all are making me sick,” Phoenix cut in, snaking an arm around you and pulling you away from Jake into a hug, “I missed you, girl”

“Missed you too Tash,” you hugged her, rubbing her back gently as she whispered how annoying Jake had been while you were broken up.

“Please never break up with him again, I already can’t stand his attitude, but its so much worse when he doesn’t have you” she smacked your shoulder, walking over to Gabby to give her a hug.

“Payback,” you said, turning your attention to the other aviators who were now talking to Jake.

“Y/L/n,” he said, pulling you into a quick hug before stepping aside so you could give Bob and Fanboy a quick hug as well. 

“Phoenix tells me my sweet Hangman here was extra annoying for you guys this trip,” you joked, smacking Jake on the chest as he welcomed you back into his embrace.

“Oh my god Y/n,” Rooster groaned, walking over to the group with Gabby under his arm, “you can’t ever give him the silent treatment again. Dear god-”

“We’d be at 20,000 feet and all you’d hear would be ‘do you guys think she’s really done with me’” Fanboy said in a high pitched voice, teasing Jake, making the other aviators laugh.

“Or he’d just sit there,” Payback interjected, already laughing, “in the mess hall, just stabbing his food over and over like he was in some drama movie”

“Bagman was in the dumps,” Bob quipped, making the group laugh harder.

You looked up to Jake, who was laughing along with them, his smile laced with hints of remorse and regret. You shook him a little in your embrace, drawing his attention to you.

“Don’t worry guys, I’m never letting him out of my sights ever again,” you said while looking directly at Jake, he smiled a thankful smile

“We’re all holding you to that, babe,” Phoenix said, slapping you on the back, “now who’s coming to the hard deck tonight?”

“All of us,” Gabby chimed in, “Rooster’s gonna be drinking for two,” she rubbed her baby bump.

The aviators cheered for Rooster and congratulated Gabby as you all walked back to the parking lot. Jake’s arm stayed tight around your shoulder, never letting you drift more than an inch from his side.

--

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

[twisted-tales-of-all]

Frauds and Festivities

Summary: You and your boyfriend have been drifting away for the past couple of weeks. It's god-awful timing though, as the planned holiday trip with your friend creeps around the corner. After deciding to stick it out through the holidays, you manage to get on each other's nerves more than ever before, but you must find a way to keep up the act. Pairing: Jongho x afab!Reader Genre: angst, smut, one-shot, collab Tropes: established relationship, break-up fic, forced proximity/only one bed, loveless lust, lovers to FWBs, falling out of love Word Count: 5.3K Contains: cursing, alcohol, some discussion of difficult emotions, pet names (babe, baby, sir, good girl), teasing, (very slight) predator/prey dynamic, switch!Jongho, switch!reader, thigh riding, praise, marking, biting, hair pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex, clit play, breast/nipple play, overstimulation, creampie, begging, handjob, blowjob A/N: Welcome to Our second submission to the 16 Days of Smutmas! Please be sure to check out all the other works in the masterlist, as it's such an amazing collection of writers <3 (also this one isn’t as thoroughly edited as usual, so apologies for any mistakes!)

"I can't keep doing this!" Pushing back your chair, you scream.

You break the awkward silence at dinner, finally sick of acting like you and your boyfriend have been perfectly fine these past few weeks. How can you be in a relationship if the time between you is in a tense silence for more than half the time? Not to mention the fact that you fight whenever you do speak, sometimes over the most minimal things.

As your boyfriend continues eating and ignoring you, you continue, "How can you act like everything is fine? This isn't normal! We actually used enjoy each other's presence, you know?! Say something, for fuck's sake!"

Jongho slowly looks up at you. He finishes chewing before calmly speaking, "There's no way we can break up yet. We both put money towards the trip next week, and it's non-refundable. Unless you pay me for my portion, I'm still going. And I doubt you'll waste your money by dropping out either."

"Shit." You plop back into your chair as you realize his point.

You can't ruin the mood of the trip by breaking up, not when everyone is going with their respective partners. And he's right, you're both too stubborn to lose money by dropping out or paying the other to stay home.

"How are we going to do this then?"

With a shrug, Jongho replies, "I'm always well composed, and it can't be that hard to act like we still love each other. We loved each other for over two years now, so we know how it should work. As long as you stay composed when the others are around, we should be fine."

Fuming at his insistence that you're solely at fault, you bite back, "Then don't push buttons. I'm fine as long as you don't tick me off. Let's not meet up again until the day we leave for the trip, so we have some peace and quiet before it."

Agreeing with your plan, Jongho returns to finishing his dinner in silence. You clean up your plate and head to your room, asking your boyfriend to clean up his plate and see himself out whenever he finishes eating. You sit on the edge of your bed, silently reading your webcomics and listening to the sounds of dishes clinking in the kitchen sink. As you hear your front door close, you let out a sigh and throw yourself back against the plush bedding.

"We just have to pretend to still love each other." You say it in a way that reeks of desperation, as if trying to convince yourself that it won't be too hard.

In reality, you probably fell out of love with Jongho last month. Nothing happened to cause it - nothing you can pinpoint, at least - but you both felt it so clearly. There's no way of even knowing who lost feelings first; it happened around the same time. People always preach that there's no such thing as a mutual breakup, but this has to be the closest thing to it, right? Granted, you aren't exactly broken up yet, so it can't count when things might change.

Your week passes far too quickly. The calm, quiet week places you in such a good mood, but you remember that you'll be acting for the next four days, so you have to pack and mentally prepare yourself for the journey. To make things more believable, Jongho suggests driving up to the lodge together. Although you'd rather not, putting on a convincing act from the start takes precedence over your feelings.

When he pulls up to your house, he doesn't bother getting out to greet you. With a honk, you know he's arrived. He pops the trunk from the inside, letting you load your luggage yourself. As you climb into the passenger's seat, the radio greets you with some of his favorite tunes. Thankfully, you still enjoy the same music, otherwise you'd be annoyed before having to start your act. The drive up into the mountains takes a couple of hours, and you ignore each other the whole time, both desperately trying to extend the peace from the week.

As Jongho pulls into the parking lot, he finally speaks to you, "Are we ready? How deep are we playing it?"

"Won't it be better for everyone if we keep it simple? Maybe a couple pet name calls and minimal PDA when it's expected? That way, they won't be too shocked when we break up after this, since the love was fading even on the trip."

"That sounds good to me. I'd rather not do more than I have to, so that works."

He gets out of the car, and the act begins. Despite still having to walk over to the cabin, he helps unload all the bags. You follow his lead by playfully leaning into him as you thank him for his help. He locks the car, and you walk together to the cabin where your friends await. You don't even reach the entrance before hearing your best friend excitedly call out to you.

"Y/N! Jongho!" She flings the door open and rushes over to you, grabbing hold of one of the bags in your hands, "Here, lemme help with that."

You can already recognize the effects of alcohol on her - her cheeks flushed, her breath tainted, and her energy spiked to its peak. However, she keeps her balance well, and she isn't slurring her words, so you guess that she's only had a couple of drinks so far.

As you enter the holiday home, everyone else greets you and your boyfriend from their positions in the room. After greeting everyone and some basic small talk about the drive, Jongho dismisses you both to set your luggage in your bedroom. When he asks which room to go to, the whole group answers with a few seconds of silence.

"About that..." Mingi begins as he nervously scratches the back of his head and avoids Jongho's gaze.

"We better have rooms. This was booked so long ago; there's no way it was fucked up."

"Don't worry, there's a room for you. It's just that this cabin only three bedrooms in the main house. You guys were the last to get here, so the only room left is in the guest house outside."

Before Jongho erupts, San comments, "It's a full unit, so it's better in some ways! Personal little kitchen, personal bathroom, and all the privacy you could ask for! All you have to do is take a short walk outside - it's not even a full minute walk, so it shouldn't be too bad."

To everyone's surprise, Jongho simply shrugs before grabbing his bags and heading through the house to the back door. You follow a few steps behind, trying to catch up. As you reach the guest home, you find it nicer than you expected. San was right; this might just be better.

He unpacks a few items before heading back to the party, leaving you alone in the guest house.

"So much for being a couple, I guess." You retort while putting your bags on the opposite side of the bed.

Although there's only one bed, it's big enough that it shouldn't bug you to share with him. You only take a little bit of time in the room before meeting with the group again. Before saying a word to anybody, you pour yourself a drink, mixing a fun alcoholic drink to ease your stress about the situation. You drink some of it before joining the crowd and put on a smile as you reach them, listening in to the active conversation without adding much input. As much as you enjoy the time with your friends, the stress of keeping up your facade keeps itching at the back of your mind.

As the first night passes with drunken talk and playing catch up with everyone's lives, you and Jongho don't have much to do with each other. The groups split into the girls and the boys naturally, and only a couple of quickly fleeting conversations even mention the two of you. Thanks to the alcohol, the topics change on a dime, and you end the night by retiring to the guest house without any issues.

As the door shuts behind you, you mumble, "Only three more days. It can't be that bad."

"Don't hate me too bad; there's still only the one bed."

Jumping from the shock of hearing Jongho's voice, you walk towards the bedroom to continue the conversation, "You say that as if we have to keep up the act in here. Just choose a side and stay on it. I'll do the same."

"Awe, we aren't keeping up the act? How boring." His voice is riddled with sarcasm, and he sits down on one side of the bed with a distinct lack of care.

You roll your eyes as you dig through your suitcase for a set of pajamas. You announce that you're going to shower before bed and walk into the bathroom. While you shower, you let your mind wander back through your memories with him. They were mostly good, and it makes your heart sting. You try to figure out when everything shifted or why you fell out of love with each other, and you end up staying in the shower longer than planned because of it.

When you walk back into the bedroom, the atmosphere has completely changed. The disgust and anger shifted, and you're now greeted by somberness. As you sit on the bed, Jongho breaks the silence and admits to thinking of similar things.

"Why'd we stop loving each other? What happened?"

"You were reliving the past, too, huh?"

Turning to look at each other, your eyes meet a reddened pair staring sadly back at you. He had been crying while you were in the shower. With another pang in your chest, you also feel the pain welling up in your throat.

"We weren't bad to each other. Why did we have to fall out of love? That's some sick and twisted joke by fate." The strain in his chest appears through the cracks in his voice and the overall angry tone.

"It's too bad we can't change it. We don't know how it happened, but I don't think we can just love each other again. We stopped being good to each other because of it, so we kept falling further apart."

"Yeah, you're right. It just... sucks."

The air remains thick until you both fall asleep, and neither of you even hints at the conversation as morning arrives. You walk into the main house together, linking hands as you enter the door and see the other couples clinging to one another. With some of them, they don't even try to hide what the alcohol and bed-sharing resulted in, their after-sex glow far too clear in your eyes. Jongho must notice too, as his grip on your hand tenses when the others get lovey-dovey in front of him.

"How was your night, guys?" One of the bubbly girls jumps in front of you to ask, prodding you with a suggestive tone painting her words, "Did you sleep well together? Enjoy the shared bed?"

Putting on a happier tone than you expected, Jongho responds, "The bed was super soft! Especially with the alcohol in my system, I fell asleep super fast. I think Y/N was the same way. Right, babe?"

After you smile and nod, she understands that you guys didn't take part in the same events behind closed doors. She lowers her energy a bit in a belated attempt to hide the glow, "Oh, that sounds great! I'm glad you got lots of sleep. It'll help with the events today - they can be draining, for sure."

"Oh right, we're hitting the slopes today. I nearly forgot!" You exclaim, "When are we heading over?"

"Mingi and Daisy are making everyone breakfast, so we'll head over a bit after we eat, if you guys are okay with that."

You both confirm, and she goes to check how much longer the food will take, leaving you and Jongho momentarily alone in the living room. Sitting down together on the couch, you stop holding hands. Jongho rubs his palm on his pants to remove the sweat before placing it on your thigh to keep up the act.

You type up a quick note on your phone, joking about how he's doing more than you expected and must still love you. You lean into him as you show him, but he scoffs at it, rolling his eyes and muttering that you're ridiculous under his breath in case anyone walks in.

"Alright, lovebirds, come eat! Food's ready!" Daisy announces as she and her boyfriend carry the plates of freshly cooked food to the dining table. As everyone gathers there, they begin showering the couple with compliments about how good the food looks and smells. The breakfast is calmer than expected as everyone focuses on eating, and everyone quickly breaks off into their rooms after finishing up to prepare for the trip to the lift.

For a group of your size, you need two trips to get up to the lift via the snowmobiles provided. You and Jongho get paired with Yeosang and Krys for the second trip, so the ride isn't too bad. Your best friend jokes about how the lift is a cute spot for a proposal since it'll just be the couple, but Yeosang asks who she thinks is planning to get engaged. Krys pouts about his reaction, obviously hoping for a proposal on this trip.

"Come on, Yeosang. You guys have been together forever now. You still aren't getting married yet?" You poke at him to help your friend.

"You act like you and Jongho haven't been together nearly the same time as us. Three years isn't that long, and you're only a few months behind us. Are you planning for an engagement yet?"

You can feel Jongho's frustration at you for commenting as if he'd known it would backfire. As his grip on your hand tightens through the gloves, he silently threatens you to say something fitting.

"No, we aren't even living together though. You've gone through two years of living together. You're years ahead of us, in that respect."

Unable to come up with a comeback, Yeosang sits in silence for the rest of the rife. Krys smiles and quietly thanks you for jumping in.

As you reach the destination, you see Mingi and Daisy jump onto the ever-moving ski lift, decked out in their gear. Neither you nor Jongho are big skiers, so you rent out snowboards instead. Yeosang jokes that you should've gotten a couple's sled instead, but you both ignore him as you put on the gear. Krys pushes her boyfriend to the lift as they finish, waving goodbye to you.

"See you both later! Have fun!"

Left alone with Jongho again, you take your time as you get ready but still finish before him. Looking over, you notice his hands shaking.

"You okay, Jongho? You're shaking."

"You're really riding the edge, aren't you? Did you even think before jumping into their little spat?"

Shocked that he's still upset about it, you scoff, "No way you're so upset about that to be shaking. I even made up for my mistake pretty well."

"Yeah, through a stroke of good luck. But why put yourself into the position in the first place? Come on, Y/N, think a little!"

At this point, you're pretty close together, yelling into each other's faces. Mingi skis past, stopping himself and turning back to the two of you to ask why you aren't heading up already. Thinking quickly, Jongho grabs your collar and pulls you in for a kiss as if he didn't hear his friend. As Daisy joins, she coos about how cute Jongho is, asking her boyfriend why he isn't that sweet in public. As they begin flirting, Jongho drags you to the lift to escape, hoping to avoid any more questions from them. As much as you'd like to slap him for the sudden kiss, you hold yourself back.

"Sorry. I didn't know what else to do." Jongho confesses after half of the lift ride passes.

"Don't worry. I know you're only keeping up the act."

As you hop off the lift at the top of the mountain, you let Jongho begin his descent first. Your mind clouds due to the kiss. It brings back good memories, filling your lips with a bittersweet taste. Shaking your thoughts away, you begin heading down the trail, weaving between trees and choosing a path that'll give you more adrenaline. You have to stop hard at the end and nearly fall over, but you stabilize yourself enough to only wobble.

"Jongho, go help your adventurous girlfriend! She nearly fell!"

"It's her fault for doing that path!" He screams back as he walks up to you with his hand outstretched for you.

You hold onto his arm to balance yourself as you dismount the board. You lean down to pick up the board, but Jongho pulls you upright. He then leans over to pick it up himself, carrying the board under one arm as he keeps you on his other.

The day continues in a similar fashion until all of the activity makes everyone hungry. After a short debate over eating at the ski lodge or heading back to the cabin, everyone files into the lodge, quickly unwrapping layers of clothing in the warm, cozy quarters. You enjoy good food and conversation before braving the freezing weather again to travel back to the cabin. Once back, everyone heads directly to their rooms, beat after the energy spent throughout the past several hours.

You follow Jongho into the backyard with thoughts of the kiss coming back into mind. Alone with him, you can't get rid of them, so you decide to talk about it instead.

"Jongho, what happened when you kissed me earlier? You tensed up shortly after; was something bugging you about it?"

After a short silence, he admits, "The spark is still there. It drove me mad to feel that again after so long."

"Well, we aren't broken up quite yet. We can live out the spark one last time if you want."

Meeting his gaze, you find a boy you haven't seen in a while - one with a look of joy to hear words falling from your lips, and one with excitement of the idea of having you one last time.

"You want to?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't something I was open to, Jongho. You know me at least that well."

Rather than responding, Jongho presses his lips against yours once again. The step forward makes you instinctively step back, hitting the wall in the process. He places one hand against the wall by your head and slides the other around your waist. As you lean back into the wall, he leans into you, pressing his body firmly against yours. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you feel all of the tenseness from earlier wash away thanks to the kiss. As his cock hardens, trying to push out of his pants, he growls at the lack of space.

He pulls away momentarily to undo his pants, but he commands you onto the bed with a simple nod in the right direction. You sit on the edge of the bed and look up at him with innocent eyes as he approaches. When he finally kicks off his pants and stands in front of you, he grabs you by the chin and smirks down at you.

"Oh, are you being good today?"

"I'm always good, sir."

"Of course, baby, how could I forget?"

He leans down and places a quick peck on your lips before straightening again. You watch as he deliberates with himself over what he wants to do to you. You see the moment he decides as his eyes darken and his smirk twists up ever-so-slightly.

"What do you want right now, baby?"

"You, sir. All of you."

"Then lie down. Let's get started. It's going to be a long night if you want all of me."

You scoot back and follow his instructions without a fight. He climbs onto the bed, hovering over you with hunger in his eyes. Slowly, he leans in and kisses your neck, paying attention to everything he does. You already know he wants to drive you insane, and you also know that there's nothing you can do to prevent that outcome. As he continues his slow, drawn-out worship of your exposed skin, you close your eyes and embrace the sensations. You focus so much that you almost miss his words as he whispers his next command into your ear.

"Take it off. All of it."

He moves to the side, eyeing you like prey as you remove your shirt and then slide off your pants. He swallows back saliva as you unhook your bra and let your breasts fall freely. In striking contrast to his recent looks of hatred, the craving look of a predator makes your heart race and adrenaline pump. You feel on cloud nine as you slide your panties down your legs and hear him grunt out at his view. Even if the love is long gone, the lust definitely remains.

He lets you sit there on display all pretty for him for what feels like forever, but you know better than to beg for his touch, even if the cold air perks your nipples and sends shivers up your body. When he finally stops staring at you, he sits against the headboard and taps his thigh. You quickly sit on his thigh with your hands on his shoulders. Guiding your chin to him, he envelopes you in a deep kiss. You don't even notice his hands slowly dropping down to your waist until he grips tightly. His lips fall to your neck and then your chest while his hands guide you to rub yourself along his thigh.

When he feels his thigh get wet from your actions, he smirks and flexes, earning a yelp from you. He pushes your hips down into him more, making you experience even more of the friction against him. He continues to casually cover your upper body in kisses and hickets as if he isn't pushing you dangerously close to the edge on his thigh.

"Jongho~"

"Shh... I know, baby. You're close, I know. Don't be all whiny about it."

He removes his hands and tells you to lie down on your stomach. You hug one of the pillows to your face, excited but terrified to know what he'll do next. When you feel his hands explore your back, the tingles make you tense up.

"What's wrong, Y/N? Scared?" There's a sinister tone to his words as if he hopes that you're afraid.

He begins massaging the tenseness out of your back, kissing in between to give his hands short breaks. Suddenly, you feel him lift your crotch, and his thick cock grazes your inner thigh slightly. You don't know when he stripped out of the rest of his clothing, but you feel his naked chest as he leans in to kiss your shoulder and whisper into your ear.

"Now, be a good girl and take it all for me, okay?"

You nod into the pillow, but he doesn't pay attention. Instead, he's busy lining himself up properly. Slowly, he pushes inside, keeping a slow but steady pace until he bottoms out. You bite the pillow as his girth stretches you out. After not indulging for over a month, the pain burns through you more than usual, but Jongho lets his lust drive him. He trusts that you'll use the established safewords if you need him to stop or slow down, so he immediately begins fucking you.

This lust-driven sex feels much more carnal, nothing like the sex you had when you loved each other. Fueled by the mutual desire of one final hurrah, you enjoy the rough grabbing and hard thrusts.

"Fuck. You're so good."

He slides one hand up your back, knotting it into the hair at your nape. He uses it to pull you up against him. With your back against his chest, he lets go of your hair and snakes his hand around to the front of you. Holding onto your neck, he aggressively thrusts up into you. As he steadies his control, he brings his other hand around to your front. After a bit of blind searching, his thumb finds its place on your clit.

With the added pressure to your clit, you tap on the hand around your neck, signaling that you need to breathe freely. He moves that hand down to your boobs, grabbing one tightly and using his long fingers to rub your nipple. Being stimulated in so many places, you begin to lose yourself, muttering out nonsense in your moans.

"That's it, Y/N. You're taking it so well. Just a little bit more, baby. You're almost there. I can feel it."

Sure enough, you feel your climax approaching. Without letting up on anything, he bites down on your shoulder. The unexpected sensation sends you straight into your orgasm. You shake as it overtakes you, and you feel his moans vibrate against your collarbone as your walls tighten around him. His thrusting becomes rushes, with short, quick thrusts to bring him over the edge as well. Bodies flush against each other, you feel him fill you up as he finishes.

He removes his mouth from your shoulder first, with a curse under his breath over the wonderful feeling. After, he slowly pulls out of you and guides you to lie down next to each other in bed. For a while, the only sounds in the room are your combined panting, but Jongho breaks the silence with a lighthearted jest.

"A spark of lust... What a fun thing, that is."

"Y'know what? I think it might be easier to pretend to love you after that."

After he cracks up at your statement, he throws himself under the blankets, exclaiming, "We'll see. Just don't get on my nerves. Good night, Y/N."

Surprisingly, you both cruise through the day. You're able to joke, hold hands, and even kiss without feeling any way about it. San jokes that it took an extra day for you guys to adjust to the room, but he points out how clear it is that you've broken in the bed. Jongho begins walking towards him without comment, scaring the louder boy away quickly. But even that interaction was all in good fun. When you turn in for the night, you can't help but smile at the fun day. As Jongho joins in, you comment jokingly.

"Maybe San's right. It was obvious we did much better today. We can't let ourselves get sexually frustrated, or it'll make the mission harder."

"I know you're not asking for more after complaining about being sore this morning."

"I'm just saying. No need to get fussy about it, Jongho. Or maybe... Are you already getting sexually frustrated again?" You look at him with a devious smile, but he doesn't respond, so you continue, "Do you need me to help you again? Oh, poor baby!"

Quietly, he asks, "Are you gonna help, or are you just gonna be mean?"

"Oh, my poor baby. Lay down. I'll help you."

You slyly hook your thumbs onto his waistband as you guide him onto the bed. When he scoots back, his pants and underwear slide off with ease. Although he's slightly embarrassed by the sudden nakedness, he doesn't comment. Instead, he silently lets you pull the clothing fully off him before climbing onto the bed to hover over him.

"You're right, though. If I take you again, I'm not sure if I'll be able to get up tomorrow. I guess I'll have to figure out some other way to help."

"Y/N, please, just touch me. Please, no more teasing."

"Oh, poor baby. You're that needy, Jongho? Needy enough to beg for me to touch you?"

Softly you place your hand on the tip of his dick, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time. You revel in his reactions as you rub your palm over his tip with the leaking precum acting as a bit of lube. When you progress down to stroke his dick, you watch his eyes roll back into his head, encouraging you without even realizing it. While he's momentarily blinded by the pleasure, you lean in and take his tip into your mouth. Purely reactionary, Jongho thrusts his hips up into you, but you've had enough experience to predict it and hold him down. However, you notice just how needy he is by his whiny moans, so you decide to give him a quick release - just like he wants.

Quickly bobbing your head and moving your hand in unison, you do everything exactly how you know he likes it best. You ignore the whiny mess spewing from his lips and focus hard on your task, trying to bring him to orgasm in record time. Feeling the usual signs that he's close, you gain a sense of satisfaction in knowing you can still mess him up this quickly and easily. You focus on keeping the pace the same despite it being a bit faster than usual. When he pushes your head down and finishes down your throat, you emerge proud of yourself.

"Did that help?"

Already half asleep after the wave of pleasure, he only slightly nods before passing out. You laugh at the exhausted man before doing your nightly routine and joining him in sleep.

Waking up on the dawn of the final day, you feel a weird sensation overtake you. Grief? Not quite, but something similar, for sure. As you realize that today marks the last day of the trip and your relationship, that sad feeling washes over you from the moment you wake up. Even though you've known the day was coming, it still feels strange to let go, especially after you were able to tolerate each other over the past couple of days. When you join your friends, they're all hugging and crying, claiming that they don't want to return to their regular day-to-day lives. You find it funny to watch, as they take frequent vacations anyway. You and Jongho awkwardly stand there, holding hands and watching the sobbing cuddle huddle.

Before they can pull you in, Jongho claims that he wants to beat traffic, so you two will be heading home first. This quickly pulls everyone apart to say their goodbyes, and you head out to the car within ten minutes. Once there, that overwhelming feeling envelopes the air between you. Neither of you brings up the elephant in the room until you nearly reach your house.

"So, is this officially where we call it?" You ask as he turns down your street.

"I guess it has to be, right? Without the love, there wouldn't be much of a relationship."

"Yeah... We'd make better friends with benefits at this point."

After a short silence, he parks the car in front of your home and turns to you, "Should we?"

"I'd be down for it, honestly."

"Then let's do that. We're no longer in a relationship, but we can still reach out for hook ups."

"Deal."

[illegal-heartbreaker]

i've got my eye on you {m. thornhill}

summary: reader is a new teacher to Nevermores staff, and is friends with Larissa (thats how they heard of the job). Marilyn becomes obsessed with reader/jealous of their relationship with Larissa. - @cosmicbrownies7

relationship: marilyn thornhill x reader

warnings/extra: 15 yr age gap, yandere-ish & jealousy.

It got dark quick, sorry 😭

_________________________

You had met Larissa when you both had attended a meeting about outcasts all over the world and considering that the both of you were one of the last few shapeshifters left you had instantly connected. Thats how you had ended up leaving your position at a school another school for outcasts in Ireland and moved to Nevermore as the first ever deputy principal.

The beginning of the second semester had started and you had only just settled down into the role of second in command. Your relationship with Larissa only blooming. Today was the day which teachers and students arrived back to school, you were nervous to meet the students and to see how they'd react towards you. From Larissa's tale they were sweet.

The both of you stood on the front steps of Nevermore, Larissa welcoming students and you smiling at the people passing by you. As more students turn up, you look for the last teacher and the one you had been told about a lot, Marilyn Thornhill. The first normal teacher.

"Larissa!" Another new voice called, directing your head to where it had come from, a petite lady with glasses that look almost too big for her was walking towards the two of you. "thats marilyn, be nice." your friend whispers before waving her over.

"Good morning Marilyn, how was your holiday?" Larissa smiled down at the women, who was standing in front of the both of you.

"much more quiet, i think i got used to the noise of the students" you laughed slightly, drawing the attention the elephant in the room.

"This Y/N Y/L/N, they're the new deputy for this school and my closest friend." Larissa introduces placing a hand on your shoulder. You nod, something seemed off about the way this lady looked you up and down.

"Pleasure to meet you Y/N." you hum in agreement, taking a step back when you notice that she has moved towards you.

"Riss, you need to go do your speech." You say, wanting to get away from this lady. Taking Larissa's hand in yours and leading her away, leaving Marilyn fuming. You were exactly what she wanted- no needed and Weems was in the way.

The following weeks had passed quickly, with you becoming closer with the students especially Enid. To the young girl you were a mother figure and Larissa had noticed this, that was why one of your many tasks was to take Enid to her therapy appointments every Thursday morning. After the appointments you would always take Enid to Weathervane, and thats when you met Tyler Galpin. Who knew all about you from Marilyn and was always reporting back to her.

That lead you to the fifth Thursday of the semester where she sat in the booth you and Enid usually occupied, scrolling through photos. You had followed Enid in that day with your hands on her shoulders. Looking over to where you usually sat, you scowl, Marilyn. Something was off about her and Larissa wouldn't take a word of it. Letting Enid lead the way to the counter to order the usual, Marilyn had looked up and smirked waiting for you to pay.

"Enid," Marilyn called, drawing the attention of the girl to her. She bounced over to where one of her teachers sat. "Do join me, Ms Y/L/N too." And so Enid obliged, sliding into the opposing seat. Once you had finished paying, you look around to find Marilyn now talking to Enid. A frown crossed your face but reluctantly walked over. Sitting down next to Marilyn wanting to respect the students boundaries.

"Ms Y/L/N, glad you could join us." she whispers placing a hand onto your thigh. You glare at her, removing the hand. "yes, wonderful." you mutter. Minutes pass and Marilyn keeps 'accidentally' touching you, counting down the minutes till you need to take Enid back but you maintain a straight face completely ignoring the lady next to you. Talking with Enid is always interesting, especially about the up and coming ball being held in honour of a generous donation.

"Enid dear? Could you step outside, i'll be with you in a minute." You say smiling, watching as the girl nods and leaves. Leaving you and Marilyn.

"Marilyn Thornhill, if you touch me one more time then I personally will talk to Larissa."

"You think she'd believe you? She won't do anything especially not to her plant obsessed Ms Thornhill." she grins, placing a hand on yours. "No one will believe you." Staring at her in shock, you get up and walk out. The drive home was a comfortable silence with you absorbed in your thoughts and Enid scrolling through her social media page. Pulling up at school, you let Enid get out before going around the side to park your car.

Walking up to Larissa's office, you see Thornhill walking up the stairs of the school. Running now, you push through her doors panting.

"That normie teacher, needs to go Larissa! She's a freaking creep." You yell, the principal looks up at you in alarm.

"Y/N, whats happened? Take a seat." She gestures towards a chair at her desk. Before you could move, a knock comes to the door and she walks in smiling.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Ms Weems, Miss Y/N is just tired. I'll escort her to her room." She says grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the room.

"You are mine Y/N. After tonight, there will be no more 'Principal Weems'" She says her voice full of anger, guiding you towards her room.

"What is your issue?!" You yell, "Are you jealous of Larissa?" as she pushes you into her room.

"Oh, my darling girl. I believe I was jealous, but not anymore because I've finally got you for myself." She says laughing, as she inserts something into your neck.

"You're mental if you think you can get away with.." You start to say beginning to feel drowsy. Your eyelids shut just as you fall into a deep sleep, allowing Marilyn to carry to her bed letting your head rest in her lap.

"you're mine, princess."

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Unconventional Traditions - S.Harrington

Summary - Steve, his girlfriend and their friends have some very unconventional traditions which lead to some holiday shenanigans.

Word Count - 1164

Warnings - drug use(weed), profanity, mentions of sex, female reader, use of Y/N, not proofread

Author's Note - Day 11!! I'm back to posting at my usual time for now, it probably won't last but I will try! I hope you enjoy!

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25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

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not my gif

Their traditions started in the morning on Christmas Eve. They would all gather at Steve’s house since his parents were never home and have breakfast together. The breakfast was always the same options, pancakes, eggs, toast, bacon, fruit salad and french toast. Y/N usually spends the night before getting everything prepared and waking up extra early to get to cooking. Steve was pretty good in the kitchen but she was better at multitasking so the cooking was left up to her as Steve cut up fruit.

After breakfast, they usually will start a few different holiday themed puzzles. They usually had about three going at once, making it a competition to see which team finished first. Every year it was Y/N, Steve and Robin finishing first which may seem surprising but their three brains equal about two depending on how tired they were. They had a system down, Y/N would get all of the edge pieces done, then work on the bottle, Robin working in the middle and Steve working at the top. The system had yet to fail them. 

The puzzles usually took them about 3 hours so by the time they were done, they would go to start their movie marathon. Because Robing and Steve worked at the video store, they were able to snag the last copies of A Christmas Story, Gremlins and A Christmas Carol so they usually started with Gremlins. As the movie began, most of the older teens, and by most that really just meant Eddie, Steve, Y/N and Gareth going outside to light up a joint to pass between the four of them. As they got a slight high going, they would head back inside to the warmth, start up a fire and Y/N would go back to the kitchen to start making some hot chocolate. 

Nobody dared to make hot chocolate because they all knew hers was the best, spiking the hot chocolate for the older teens and leaving a normal hot chocolate for the younger ones. They would all cram into the living room, around the tv and watch their movies and drink their hot chocolate. As the movies came to an end, they would move to their next task, ordering a disgusting amount of pizza, by now the four stoners in the group were about four joints in, so the munchies had set in. Y/N used to make homemade pizza but they gave that up the year before because she tried to make pizza while she was baked and she nearly set the house on fire. 

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, El and Argyle all walked in so they exchanged their gifts. Every year they did secret santa but not really, everyone knew who they had and there was a $20 limit. Their big rule was no significant others and no siblings. This year Y/N had the pleasure of buying for Eddie so she had gifted him some new guitar strings, picks and some joints rolled by her as an apology for always stealing his. 

Robin had gotten Y/N, gifting the girl a new sketchbook, some sketching pencils and more crochet hooks since she lost hers like crazy. By the time the gift exchange was over, the pizza had arrived, everyone pitching in to pay before digging in. Y/N and Steve taking over the lazy boy. Golden Girls was playing on the tv quietly as the room was filled with chatter of the friends. 

“I love doing this every year,” Steve admitted quietly to his girlfriend.

“I do too. This is our big dysfunctional family. I’d rather be here than spending time anywhere else,” She replied back, looking her boyfriend in the eye and admiring them. Steve took this chance to kiss his girlfriend gently, almost shy. “I love you Steve Harrington.”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

As the rest of the group finished up the pizza and cleaned the living room a bit. It was time for some games, they usually prank called their families so this year they started with the Wheelers. Eddie held the phone and everyone in the room dead silent to hear what was happening. “Hello?”

“Yeah, hi, this is Paul’s pizza just notifying you that your order of 12 pizzas is out for delivery. Will you be paying cash or card ma’am?” Eddie responded in a lower voice than his usual speaking voice.

“12 pizzas! I never ordered 12 pizzas! This must be a mistake!”

“Are you Karen Wheeler?”

“Well, yeah but-”

“Then the pizzas are for you, so cash or card lady?”

With that, she had hung up, the whole room bursting out in laughter. Y/N wiping a tear from her eye as Gareth dialed her parents house. This went on for another hour or so until everyone had started to yawn. The younger teens had already set up camp in the living room, the older ones were able to set up in the guest room, Steve’s parents’ room and his room as well. 

The stoner group had multiplied, so the 6 of them had gone outside for one last pass around before calling it a night. After the joint had died out, they all went upstairs, going into the respective rooms. Eddie crashes on the floor in Steve’s room, Gareth and Argyle getting the guest room and Jonathan, Nancy and Robin getting Steve’s parents’ room. This had been their typical arrangement for the last couple years, nobody really daring to change it up.

“I swear if I hear you two fucking, I will vomit all over the both of you and then the carpet,” Eddie threatened.

“When have we ever had sex with you in the room?” Y/N asked him incredulously. 

“Last year, you thought I was asleep but I wasn’t. You guys aren’t as quiet as you think, granted it was a little hot but I still wanted to vomit.” Steve chucked a pillow at Eddie’s head before collapsing on the bed.

“Don’t worry dude, I think we are far too high to have sex tonight,” Steve assured their friend.

“Whatever you say Steve,” Eddie replied unconvinced. She had finally gotten onto the bed, immediately making her way into Steve’s side and snuggling close. 

“Goodnight baby,” Steve said to his girlfriend, kissing the top of her head.

“Aww, goodnight Harrington!” Eddie teased with a chuckle, earning a groan from the couple.

“Goodnight Eddie. Night Stevie,” Y/N giggled lightly before relaxing herself. She was the first one to fall asleep, drifting off not even 5 minutes after laying down.

“Night Munson.”

“Night Harrington.”

With that, all was quiet in the house, the only thing that was heard was gentle breathing and snoring. Snow gently falling as the night progressed, coating the house in a blanket of white and adding a chill in the air. Making their perfect and unconventional Christmas just that much cozier.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

How do LW and her teammates celebrate happy new year from Fallout 3?

P.S. Happy New Year! 🎆🎄

Fo3 Companions Celebrating New Years

➼ Word Count » 0.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic ➼ A/N » Happy New Year! I hope you enjoy yourself!!

Charon's only ever celebrated New Year's by kicking drunken attendants out of the Ninth Circle, so it's safe to say that he awaits instructions of a similar volition from you. Did you want him to supervise you at the bar? Make sure you don't overdo it in any way? He'll do whatever you order. Although, he's very reluctant when you hand him the party hat and tell him he has the day off. He's not really sure what to do, so he just sticks by you for the rest of the night. He can't say it was the worst night of his life, but he'd definitely ask you to find a less crowded bar next year. He can only handle screaming and cheers for so long.

Clover hasn't really celebrated before (slavers don't normally care for holidays), so when she sees you preparing your home in Megaton, she quickly gets herself dolled up for the occasion. She wants to look good stepping into the New Year! And she wants to look good for you! She'll pop open a bottle of wine, have you sit down, and take care of you while everyone outside yells and screams. What better way to start the New Year than doing what she's always done best? Relax! She'll take care of you! And if you wanted, she'd gladly put an outfit together for you as well, then you could both look perfect when you leave and join the neighbors outside!

The Brotherhood always holds their own celebration at the Citadel, so Star Paladin Cross takes you over a few days in advance to help set everything up. You'll spend a day or two putting up decorations and counting bottles before the big day. Usually, it's pretty slow, but eventually, the place will be ready, and all the effort you put into the place will pay off. Cross will go and get wasted somewhere off in the corner, so you'll probably spend the holidays with complete strangers. Until Sarah shows up, that is, then she'll talk to you the rest of the night.

Jericho finds all the yelling outside to be annoying. This time of year is the one he hates the most just because of all the commotion. Out of all the pre-war holidays to still be standing, this is the one that was kept? Great. Usually, he prefers to lay in bed and ignore it until sunrise, but with you, he wouldn't mind going out and grabbing a few drinks at Moriarity's Saloon. The two of you sitting off in a corner as you wait for everything to die down. That's when the New Year's really begins with him.

A lot's happened to both you and Butch, so he's excited to be able to switch into the new year with you. Couldn't be any worse than this current one, right? At least the chance of being kicked out of your home is lesser now. He might technically be underaged, but he's snagging you both buckets worth of alcohol, and the two of you are going to party until you pass out. You both deserve it for everything you've had to overcome.

Fawkes prefers to spend his New Year inside. He'll set up a bunch of blankets, pour you a glass of whatever you want, and just relax for the night. You guys can do whatever he genuinely doesn't care. Red Menace? Put it into the terminal. Reading? He just finished organizing the bookshelf. Or even if you just want to talk with him, he has no qualms about sitting on the couch and chatting until midnight. It's comfortable, isolated, and welcoming, especially when you consider how cold it's gotta be outside.

RL-3 will either assume it's Independence Day or someone just opened fire on the town with the amount of homemade fireworks being launched. He'll either be cheering enthusiastically with the rest of the Megaton citizens or taking out his flamer. It's probably best to shut him off for this night. On the off chance, he assumes the worst is happening.

You might lose Dogmeat in the commotion. He loves the crowds of people and the colorful decorations, but the loud noises can make him a bit on edge. Don't worry too much about him, though if he's going to hide anywhere, it'll be with Moira or Gob, and they're both sure to take care of him for the night.

[thru-the-grapevine]

Holiday Rush

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Summary: Your favorite regular has one hell of a way of saying Merry Christmas (and getting your attention).

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: coffee shop au, sugar daddy-adjacent au, fluff

You’ve had less eventful Christmas Eve mornings, to be sure. Especially 4:30 AMs on Christmas Eve mornings. For starters, you were asleep like a normal person on all the other ones. For another, you weren’t usually bailed on out of nowhere by your manager due to “a family emergency”, leaving you in charge of the entire store. Nor were you typically bailed on by two other workers, both of whom had a “sudden onset illness”, leaving you with only three people other than you to cover everything the inevitable last-minute holiday-shopping horde would throw at you.

By the time you’ve got things in some semblance of order and preparation for opening, there’s already a car idling in the drive thru, and there’s a slight ache in your left temple.

“Siobhan, you’re on mobile bar,” you order. “Luke, drive bar. You’ll both have to do your own cold bar since Geo and Kennedy flaked. I need Phoenix on customer support and food. I’m gonna attempt solo drive for the first couple hours, and if it gets nuts I’ll pull one of you in to assist. If it gets slow in your area, work on putting away the order. I may have to turn off mobile if it comes to it, but that’ll piss people off, so let’s try to keep up.”

You slip your headset on, watch the digital clock on the order screen turn from 4:59 to 5:00, then click the button. “Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you this morning?”

“Morning, Chief. Didn’t think you’d be here today. Happy Christmas Eve.”

A little of the tension in your head relaxes, and you smile, tapping away at the order screen. “Ah, Gyu. You’re early. Happy Christmas Eve. Usual?”

“Sounds perfect, thanks.”

“Come on around,�� you say, not caring if you sound a little flirty.

Your store has its regulars, and he is by far your favorite. He comes in nearly every day, orders the same thing (grande caramel macchiato, extra shot, for “Gyu”), makes friendly conversation, and leaves a tip three times the price of his drink. Without fail. You’ve never figured out what it is he does for a living, but given the immaculate cars (yes, plural) you’ve seen him drive through in, it probably pays really well.

The whole staff loves him. Some of the bolder ones flirt with him just to fluster him, but they know if you’re on the floor to let you hand him the drink. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he seems to have a soft spot for you. He mistook you for the manager when he first stopped into the cafe, and he’s called you different in-charge nicknames since then—“chief”, “captain”, “commander”. It’s probably giving you an authority complex. You don’t care. The confidence boost his interest in you has given over the past year has gifted you a boldness that he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Must be Gyu already,” Siobhan remarks when she sees you surreptitiously smoothing your hair.

You flip her off as the hood of a familiar black BMW comes into view.

“Kinda early for Christmas Eve,” you say by way of greeting as the car window pulls level with yours.

God, he’s gorgeous, smiling up at you, all bundled up in his expensive-looking wool coat and black turtleneck.

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Don’t they ever give you a break around here?”

Your smile turns wry, and you sigh lightly. “They’d perish without me, I think.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, grimacing lightly in sympathy. “Hopefully not here all day, right? Got plans for the holiday?”

“Just here ‘til noon, then going an hour north to my family’s for a couple days,” you tell him, grabbing the scanner. “Want me to cash you out?”

“Ah. About that.”

You watch him reach into the passenger seat, grabbing something the size of a woman’s clutch, then extends it to you.

You set the scanner down and go to take it, then freeze, blinking.

“Uh. Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“What is that?”

“...Money?”

“I mean. I. Yeah, like. Is it…real?”

“Yes?”

“That’s…way more than your drink.”

“Yes.”

“Like. Are those all twenties?”

“Yes.”

“...I only need a fourth of a single one of those.”

“I know. Take them all.”

You don’t understand. “I—wh…”

He grins. “I feel like being Saint Nick today. I’m paying it forward for the next customers.”

Holy shit. “The next…thousand customers?”

“Hardly. Probably half that. But you don’t know how many big orders there will be, it could be less than that, too.”

“Sir.” Your head is spinning, hand still frozen inches away from the stack of bills that looks honest-to-god like out of the mafia movies. “Sir. That’s…”

You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. That’s not necessary? Your manager would kill you if she found out you refused generosity. That’s ridiculous? It might be, but you don’t want to tell this man that, not when he’s been so wonderful to you.

“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to take this,” you say.

He shrugs. “It’s all twenties, not fifties or hundreds. You can mark them all with a counterfeit pen if it helps. Call your manager if you need, I can talk to her. If you need to call the cops, even, you can. C’mon, I’ve been planning on this for ages. Let me do this.”

The thing is…he’s allowed to do this. You suppose. Technically. You huff a single, breathless laugh, incredulous.

“You…are fucking insane,” you breathe, grinning, not caring how in awe you sound.

His smile turns flustered, and he laughs a little. “If it doesn’t all get used today, put the rest in the tips.”

He’s finally done it. He’s finally rendered you speechless. You can feel your mouth hanging open, not sure what you’re supposed to say. Not sure what you can say.

Gingerly, like it’s alive, you take the stack of bills he’s offering.

“Dude,” you say, laughing again. Absurd. “Dude. Are you…?”

“Completely sure,” he says, eyes warm. “Merry Christmas to your customers. And your staff. And you.”

“Grande caramel macchiato, extra shot,” Luke says behind you, sliding you the cup.

You linger a moment longer, holding eye contact, before ducking back in the window and setting the cash next to the register, swapping it for the drink.

“Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you hand him the drink. “Have a merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says, grinning, and then he winks at you.

Your insides light up like a Christmas tree. You indulge for a second and stare after his car as he drives off. God. What?

This Christmas Eve is about to be the most fascinating yet.

You have to get Phoenix on headset to take the next drive-thru order so you have time to count out the bills and cash out the order properly. You feel lightheaded after counting the first several hundred, possibly a little ill by the time you total it out. Three thousand.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, laughing as you punch in the frankly ludicrous number. That’s half of what the store makes on a slow day. Granted, today will not be a slow day–you can already see more cars filing into the parking lot–but that money covers a chunk of business.

All morning, you have the absolute joy of watching people come up to the window, ready to pay, and telling them “actually, your order’s been covered by someone further up in line”. The looks of surprise, the occasional relief, and the smiles don’t get old or lose their shine. A couple of people get emotional, and you can’t blame them. You feel your own throat tighten when some of the customers insist on paying for the person behind them.

“Someone spotted me, let me spot someone, too,” one lady puts it, paying twice what she would have paid originally to cover the vanload behind her. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”

“Crazy what a little generosity inspires in people,” Phoenix comments as the lady drives away.

You can’t say you disagree, but there’s only one man in mind when you think it.

Luke points out that the more people keep paying it forward, the less that initial amount goes down, and the more of it that gets allotted to tips. You outright refuse to think about it. I can’t take that. There’s no way. I’ll have to give him money back, that’s just…

Even by the time you switch off of drive with Siobhan, about 75% of customers insist on continuing to pay it forward, keeping the dizzying remaining amount from Gyu fairly steady. Siobhan is far less willing to do the mental work of paying it forward and eventually asks whether it can’t just be cashed out to the tip fund.

“He probably wanted to leave most of it as tips, anyway,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “He’s got a track record, plus he likes you.”

You feel your face grow hot. “He does not.”

Siobhan rolls her eyes. “Whatever, live in denial. Can I put this in the tip fund?”

“...Fine.”

For the last hour of your shift, you concentrate on calculating tips. Even divided amongst all the store employees and adjusted for the amount of hours each person worked, everyone ends up with over a hundred in tips total. You end up with nearly twice that, after the hours you’ve done. Crazy. Absolutely unreal. You’re already thinking of the last couple gifts you were hoping you could afford to spring for for family and friends. Easily done now, with this tip money.

“Tips are in the safe,” you tell your coworkers as you zip up your coat and make for the door. “Everyone say Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

You grin as you hear a chorus of “Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu!” behind you as you step out into the cold.

You’re halfway across the parking lot to your car when you notice a black BMW. You wander to a stop, hesitant, as the car pulls even with you in the nearest parking spot and the door opens.

“Did you need more coffee?” You ask, biting your lip as he steps out.

Gyu closes his car door and shakes his head, grinning. “Already got my fix today, I’m good.”

“Shame,” you say, fighting a smile, “because I happen to know that if you went through the drive-thru right now, your order would already be covered.”

He leans back against his car and raises his eyebrows. “It lasted this long? You’d think there’d be more business than that today.”

“Everyone else kept insisting on paying it forward, too,” you say, shaking your head in awe. “What did you start?”

“Well, you certainly deserve it,” he says, and the way his smile softens makes your stomach flutter. “Hopefully it’ll end up as tips, if people keep paying it forward?”

“It’s too much,” you tell him, trying to be as firm as possible. “Far too much. I really can’t accept that.”

“It’s a gift,” he insists. “For how long you’ve been subjected to my patronage.”

“Everyone loves you in the store, they always have,” you argue.

He looks at you intently. “Everyone?”

You feel your face grow hot again. “...Yes. Everyone.”

You push through the way you want to be flustered as he grins. “But that’s what I’m saying. You’re hardly a difficult customer. It was too much.”

“You know,” he says, “it’s possible I just want to spoil you.”

You open your mouth, then snap it shut, then open it again. Holy shit, he’s made you speechless again. Twice in the same day.

“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly.

He gives you a Look. “I’ve talked to you nearly every day for around a year. I know lots of things about you. Like your cats. Your family, mainly your sister. The saga of your car. Things you like to read and watch. Some of the jokes you find funny. And you know a lot of the same things about me.”

“I don’t even know if Gyu is your real name!” You burst out.

He frowns. “It is, mostly. It’s short for Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. You’ve seen it on the receipts.”

You haven’t, but you believe him. You try out the name. “Mingyu.”

A corner of his mouth curls into a smile. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. “Tell me that hasn’t been your only hangup this whole time.”

“I-I mean…” you stammer. “N-no? I mean, it’s been one thing, but like…you’re, like. Um. You seem very…successful, and I’m…”

He frowns. “You’re successful, too. I—wait. Is this…is it money?”

“I guess I’m just…embarrassed,” you say, feeling your face burn in shame. “Maybe my pride’s too big, I dunno.”

“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is some weird, fetish-y charity case thing I have, or that I think you can be, like, bought or something,” he says, looking serious. “If you really can’t accept the money, I won’t stop you from giving it back.”

He sighs, teeth worrying his lower lip. “I just…I like you. I always have. You seem to be the only person who doesn’t realize it, or maybe I’m the idiot who can’t take a hint, but—”

“Mingyu—”

“But I really do,” he continues doggedly. “I think you work hard, but you’re so kind. You do good work so that you can be kind, so you can give people more than just something to eat or drink, and that’s just…it’s really—”

“I could kiss you right now for that,” you say, then slap a hand over your mouth. Dude??

Mingyu blinks, then laughs. “At least let me take you to dinner first.”

You wish you could sink into the pavement, even as your heart gives a silly little leap. He wants to take me to dinner. “I…I’m…”

“I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve got places to be,” he says, and you wonder if he looks a little nervous. “But I really would like to see you. Outside of work. Would you let me take you out sometime?”

You stand there for a moment in stupefied silence. Holy shit, this has to be a dream. A man like Kim Mingyu doesn’t just…give your workplace thousands of dollars to tip you and then ask you to dinner. What in the name of Wattpad...

“I…you’re fucking insane,” you laugh, breathless.

He looks like he doesn’t know how to take this, and before you can talk yourself out of it you find yourself saying, “I’m, uh, I’m free on New Years?”

A slow grin spreads over his face. “Yeah? Funny enough, so am I.”

Definitely the strangest Christmas Eve you’ve ever had. But it may also be your new favorite.

[felloweeper]

differences from book -> series: the cufflinks.

context: [december 23, 1953] this is the scene where we're first introduced to the cufflinks. it's christmas and they're serving post-coital realness (i have no other way of explaining this rn).

this is one of the most dramatic differences between the book and the series, because what on earth. this is such a tender moment of rare openness from hawk in the series. it's such a clear declaration of love with the implication of possession and a what's-mine-is-yours kind of deal.

we get the same feeling in the book but in a much darker tone. we see, first of all, how small and undeserving tim feels in the presence of hawk. i'd go as far as to say tim uses the cufflinks to self-harm. "the way one forgets a pain in one place by introducing another somewhere else." tim is actively chasing the pain of loving this man away in the form of causing bodily harm to himself. (🚩 x a million.)

yes, there's tenderness in hawk giving the cufflinks to tim and going as far as putting them into his dress shirt himself -- but the number of times tim doesn't even let himself believe that it's a special thing for him is awful. he thinks he's so undeserving that, in the end, he convinces himself that they were his reward for not showing his emotions! and to add hawk's passiveness with "'i'm going to be late, skippy.'" ✋ don't get me started. the coldest cherry on top -- agh!

overall, this scene makes me feel sick. it's not at all like the series -- and thank god for that! the show made it so much more heartwarming and loving. they look happy, they look like they both love what the cufflinks symbolize -- they adore each other!

context: [april 7, 1954] this never made it into the series, but tim has a boss named tommy mcintyre who is very aware of the situation between tim and hawk, but doesn't really mind it. (this character kind of grew into the roy cohn moment which i thought was ridiculous but this is not the post for that.) klein is another assistant to a different senator who pops up like thrice when they're talking politics.

i really liked tommy as a character, i felt he had really great moments in the book i wished they'd kept in the series, but oh well. again, he knew about tim and hawk and would go as far as to tease them about it. anyway, this is a great example of tim's lies that "people like himself learned to construct a dozen times a day."

context: [december 25, 1954/april 22, 1957] tim is home for the holidays with his sister, frances, at their grandmother's. frances is older and is married with children.

how do i... like how do i even begin.

i put it best in my notes:

honestly, favorite character? absolutely tim's sister. she does everything i wish i could have done for tim -- she's such a supportive force of nature for him, it's so nice to see.

in the show, she's there for him while he's suffering from aids, so she's fully aware of the fact that he's gay and completely devotes all of her time to him anyway. in the book, she shows this unconditional love toward him in the best way she can when she recognizes he's in love with another man.

this is heartbreaking because, in my opinion, that was their escape. she was there and so willing to welcome hawk into her home -- without having ever met him -- because she saw how much tim loved and treasured him. she was ready to love him, too, and to include him in their family. i wonder, sometimes, what would have happened if she had actually ever met him. if that would've ever made a difference in hawk's decisions and the fate of their relationship.

and because tim can't be normal and recognize his self-worth for one second:

also! the difference in using the cufflinks to inflict pain! tim uses it to distract himself, but she uses it to anchor him to the present and pay attention to what she's telling him.

context: [october 16, 1991] hawk is on the phone with his old employee, mary, where she's telling him details of tim's life and death.

..........................

that's all i have to say about that! 😊