#promise ill make it up over christmas break!

[wordsbymae]

I know I'm not a "fan" fic writer but I wanted to do something for my 150-follower milestone that I completely missed, so instead 165 followers milestones!

lots of love and all the best!

mae xx

p.s especially for those with the end of semester exams on the way!! all the best. you can do it!!!! best get off the internet and study unless this is your relaxation time! then relax!

[milkandraspberry]

[ggsbooks123]

Memory Garden

peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)

summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.

warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do

———

Peeta did this.

The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.

He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.

Another yank.

He blew up District 12

“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.

“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”

He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”

I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.

“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.

I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.

A sunset.

“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.

“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”

I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”

He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”

I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.

“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”

He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.

My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.

His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.

He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.

I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.

—

The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.

I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.

The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.

“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.

“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”

“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.

“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.

There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.

But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.

He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.

“Jude… Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.

He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.

Get out. Get out. Get out!!!

I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.

—

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.

I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.

Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.

I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.

Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.

With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.

Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.

Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.

I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.

“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.

“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”

“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”

The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.

“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.

“I understand, but I’m not a child”

“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.

It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.

I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.

“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”

I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.

“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.

“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.

I am unfixable.

“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off

“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.

Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.

I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.

“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”

He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.

It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”

He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.

He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.

“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.

I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”

He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off

“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.

I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.

Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.

I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.

And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.

Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”

I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.

“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.

“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.

“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.

“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”

He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.

— — —

do we want a part two?!?

part two out now!

[1000roughdrafts]

Just Another Day

Summary: Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Warnings: some language (like 2-3 words), light mentions of angst, but mostly fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Not betad, all mistakes are my own 😊 and bear with me, I’m a little rusty 🥰 happy love day 🥰

Valentine's Day has never really been a favorite of mine, let alone anything I'd consider more than 'just a day'. Hell, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, even birthdays are all just 'another day' for me. It's kind of difficult not to harbor ill feelings about them after constantly being let down by the people in my life, one broken promise after another.

Dean and Sam have kept every promise they've made, though. In fact, they're managing to break down my walls bit by bit from stolen candy on Halloween to a fried chicken meal with beer on Thanksgiving all while living in cheap motels chasing monsters. When I told them this morning that I just wanted to hunt as usual for the day, I couldn't help but to feel a tad disappointed that they agreed. Bit by bit, I'm breaking my own rules about not getting my hopes up on holidays.

This is our first Valentine's Day as a couple, and I've known Dean long enough to know that chocolate and flowers aren't exactly his style. But I can count on him to bring me a piece of pie "just because" or he'll clean my weapons for me after a particularly grueling hunt because he knows all I want to do is shower and get in bed.

After a long day of exorcising demons, we are on the road again. Burnin' For You by Blue Oyster Cult plays low on the radio, but the clattering of rain on the roof has my full attention. Sam loudly rifles through the papers in his lap with one hand, flashlight held in the other, hesitant to ever let himself relax. Dean's eyes flicker between the road and the rear-view mirror to periodically check on me.

"Hey, you seem off today, you okay?" Dean asks, picking up on my vacant eyes and slight frown.

I suck in a breath, inhaling the scent of the Black Ice air freshener and a hint of stale whiskey, "yeah," I say curtly, keeping my eyes on the trees swaying in the wind as we drive past, lit only by the moon above us. The wind howls against the windows of the Impala, sneaking in and covering my skin with goosebumps.

His face scrunches a bit and he nods before the tick of the blinker signals that he's turning off the highway. I feel a twinge of discomfort knowing we're only minutes away from the motel now. As much as I hate the numbness I feel in my butt and thighs, there is something meditative about being a passenger on a long drive.

We pass an abandoned gas station before I can see the dim lights of the Wandering Inn. Dean parks us by the front desk, leaving the Impala to run with a soft purr as he gets us a key to a room. Neither Sam nor I take our time getting the bags together, so by the time Dean is back out and we find a parking spot near the room, we're ready to head in.

The door whines as Dean pushes it open, immediately palming the peeling wall for a light switch. The overhead light flickers a few times before settling on a weak glow, and before I can even shut the door behind us, the smell of burnt dust and old pledge assaults my nose. I glance around the small room. The musky yellow walls seem to make it feel even smaller, somehow.

Dean turns to me with outstretched arms and a smile, asking for my bags. I dutifully and sleepily hand them over, not realizing the weight they bared until the relief of their absence waves over me. Dean nods his head towards the bathroom, "ladies first on a shower," he says softly. His boots click on the tile as he walks over to toss our bags onto the bed, plopping down next to them to remove his boots.

In a few short strides I head over to grab my bag for the bathroom, stopping in front of him to plant a kiss on his forehead. His eyes, droopy and half-closed, look up at me in a smile. He places his hands my back, thumbs rubbing circles on my skin as he pulls me in for a kiss.

"Thanks for first shower, Dean," I say, letting my hands rest on his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise and fall before he says, "yeah, well, by the looks of it, you need it more than we do tonight."

My ear to ear smile is real, but I fake a laugh before pulling away. "Whatever," I say, but I slowly lose my smile on the way to my shower. Dean's ability to pick up on even the most subtle of changes in me are a testament to how great of a hunter he is, and even greater boyfriend. How he can't pick up on how torn I'm feeling about this wretched day I've no idea. What conflicts me further is that I know it's my responsibility to share these feelings with him. Dean may have an attention to detail I haven't seen in a partner in, well, ever, but he's not a mind reader.

The tile of the bathroom is cold under my feet, so I remove my shirt to stand on it while I wait for the water to heat up. I hear the guys shuffling and moving things in the room, keeping their voices hush, but I'm too tired to give a shit. Waving a hand under the water I decide that it's the perfect temperature and remove the rest of my clothes to get in.

I don't even realize how tense I am until the water hits my shoulders, nearly forcing me to relax under it. My body's reflexes take over and I go into autopilot as I think about today and Valentine's Day is already almost over, but we did nothing… at my request. I roll my eyes at myself, brushing my teeth while the conditioner sits in my hair. The scent of fruit and mint fill the room among the steam. When I rinse my hair, I imagine I'm rinsing the day away.

The mirror is completely fogged up by the time I get out. With slightly damp skin, and a towel wrapped around my head, I struggle to get my clothes on, and it frustrates me.

I open the door and allow the steam to pour into our room, and I'm immediately hit with a surprising smell. It's almost as if someone is roasting marshmallows in our motel room. I take a small, careful step and peek just my head out, eyes zeroing in on the lit candles on the table.

My eyes skip over to Dean who sits on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees, a single flower in one hand, and a mix-tape in the other. Beneath his feet is a trail of rose petals leading to the door of the bathroom. He keeps his eyes on me, a smile peaking through his lips as he awaits my next move.

Sam's eyes and mine meet before he offers an awkward smile and shuffles a few things around on his bed. He grabs his shower bag, and I take a few steps towards Dean to allow him to enter the bathroom. Dean and I are both silent until the door closes behind Sam.

"What is all this, Dean?" I asks, astonished. Moldy motel room, or 5 star suite, never in my life has anyone laid out rose petals for me. I feel my heart racing like it's ready to burst right out of my chest.

Dean smiles, standing to hand me the flower with a kiss on my cheek. My skin is warm where his lips just were, and he reaches to take my hand, guiding me to sit on our bed.

He notices my eyes glance down at the mix tape before jumping back up to his. "I've been working on this for a few weeks now," he says, shaking the tape in his hand before handing it to me.

My hand shakes when I grab it, and I flip it to see "To my Y/N/N, Love Dean," scribbled on the front. My cheeks grow hot again, but this time with embarrassment that I'd spent the whole day thinking about myself, when here's Dean blowing expectations right out of the water.

"It's, uh, all the songs that remind me of you," he says softly, and I notice the scent of my favorite candle as the flame burns. My head spins.

"I don't know what to say, Dean," I start, and he just smiles, caressing my hand with his calloused fingers, "I mean, thank you. This is the kindest, most loving thing anyone has ever done for me," I say, tears welling in my eyes.

It's overwhelming to think a personal could love someone so much that amidst hunting Heaven, Hell and everything in between he could find the time to make this moment so special.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't cry," he says, arms wrapping around me, pulling me in for a tight hug.

"I'm not crying, Dean," I contest, but I nuzzle my face into his soft, comforting shirt, allowing my arms to wrap around his torso, and under the warmth of his jacket.

I soak in the smell of his sandalwood cologne and tighten my arms around him. Kissing his chest, I mutter another "thank you" before lifting my head to look him in the eyes. He brings his hand to either side of my face, eyes looking back and forth between mine, "you're very welcome," he says, kissing me with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and I realize that it's moments like these that I want to fill my heaven with.

~~~~

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[gingiesworld]

Missing Piece

Taylor Swift x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @lizzieislife94x

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Y/L/N was a name that no one in the public had heard of, although they were the one that Taylor had loved with all of her. But the moment she had gotten bigger, her name was known worldwide, every teen girl was a huge Swiftie. Tickets would be sold out worldwide. But the break up was always raw in the back of her mind.

Y/N knocked on her door, after dating since Junior year in high school. They had watched as she released her first album. Her first tour was only small but Y/N had supported her dream.

"Y/N, I thought our date was tomorrow." She spoke as she stepped outside.

"No." They told her as she observed the sad look on their face. "I can't do this, us anymore Tay."

"Don't." She told them as she stepped away. "Don't you finish that sentence."

"You're going to be huge, Taylor. Your music's taking off and I am just me. A simpleton."

"No." She told them with tears in her eyes. "You're more than that."

"I don't want to hold you back. You're meant to be more than just this small town girl." They told her. "This is all I am meant for, I go to a community college for crying out loud."

"I don't care." She told them. "We can make this work." She cupped their face as they exhaled a shaky breath.

"No." They told her. "I can't keep doing the long distance. I can't keep you from being who you're meant to be."

"I love you." She told them as they kissed her forehead.

"I love you but I have to let you go." They told her, releasing her and moving away from the porch. "Just promise me one thing. That this place here, at Christmas will always be ours."

"I promise." She told them as they gave her one last smile.

That was the last she had seen or heard of them. Although they had kept the same number, Taylor had never lost it, always transferring it to her new phones. She always wondered if they had ever gotten out of the town, if they had managed to get a job or career away from where they had grown up, but Y/N wasn't that lucky. Unfortunately they remained working on their parents ranch, although they had a teaching degree, they just couldn't put it to use as their father had fallen ill, landing them with more responsibilities.

But they had made sure to buy every record that Taylor had made, everytime she was performing live nearby, they would be in the crowd. A proud smile on their face as she played her music as everyone cheered.

She never knew that they had supported her, or that they were in the crowd every time she played in their home town. They heard about every relationship, every break up that she had gone through. Wondering why no one would love and care for her the way she deserved. She deserved more than what those relationships had given her. She deserved to be happy and loved unconditionally. Just how Y/N had always loved her.

Every Christmas, they returned to the place where they would walk, the snow covered hills and trees as the cold wind cut through their skin. There was a lake nearby that froze over every year, but it was always thin, not safe to walk on.

"I love this." She whispered as Y/N smiled at her. Admiring her rosy features as the frost bit her skin.

“I love you.” They whispered as she smiled at them.

That was the last exchange they had before Taylor had stopped coming to their spot. Leaving Y/N to wonder every year how the rising star was doing. If she thought of them as much as they thought of her.

They saw articles of Taylor moving forward with her life, moving on with new relationships. So, while they were at college, they met the woman who would become their wife and the mother of their children, but that was all short lived.

“You keep saying how you love me, but I can see it.” Tracy told them. “Your heart isn’t mine. It never was.”

“Trace.” Y/N tried as they reached for her, only for her to flinch and step back. “I do love you. I love you and our girls.”

“I know you do.” She sighed in defeat, her tears falling. “But your heart isn’t in this marriage and I know it hasn’t been since we got together. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but I need to do this for me.” Y/N bit their lip as they looked away from her. “I think we need a divorce.”

“No.” They whispered as she moved to cup their face.

“We can still be friends, raise the girls together.” She told them. “We just can’t be us anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” They whispered as they closed their eyes.

“It’s ok.” She told them softly. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you.” She kissed their lips one last time before packing herself a bag. Leaving Y/N in the bedroom alone, feeling like their whole world was crumbling.

The divorce proceedings ran smoothly, the two had taken 50/50 custody of the girls. What Y/N never expected was to do christmases without their daughters. But since the moment Tracy had met her now fiancè, they felt out of place spending the holidays there. Although the girls tried to make them feel at home, they never did.

That was how they ended up where they are now, sat in their usual spot, watching over the frozen lake. The one place they always felt at home, soon broken from their reverie as they heard the snow crunch beneath someone's footsteps.

“Hey you.” They heard the one voice they longed for.

“You’re here?” They asked shakily as they rose to their feet, watching as she nodded with a teary smile. “But your dream?”

“Means nothing if you’re not there with me.” She told them honestly. “I always felt as though a piece of me was missing, but I figured it out.” She cupped their face as she gazed into their eyes. “It’s you. You’re my missing piece.”

“I love you.” They whispered as they felt the warmth radiate from her, noses touching as their lips ghosted the other.

“I love you.” She whispered before kissing them softly. The first time it felt like they were complete, the reason why neither could truly move forward was because the other had their heart. The first Christmas in years that the two felt at home.

[ciaomarie]

Part 2: What Then?

I promise I have a life, but I couldn't help writing part 2 today! This takes place the same day as the "Development Day" when Syd and Carmy are thrown off by each other's answers during an ice breaker activity. Post-season 2. Feel-good fluff.

Photo Credit @drrav3nb /  drrav3nb.tumblr.com

"So those are the menu changes for Chicago Restaurant Week. If you have questions, feel free to ask me or Chef Sydney. You should also have an email from Natalie by later today. Okay, let's prep for night service!"

Carmy closed the meeting, grateful that it was finally over. He was no longer afraid of public speaking after rising in the ranks of various kitchens, but his mind was not in this ever since the ice breaker. He, Carmen Berzatto, had made Sydney's favorite meal ever? The last time he prepared the pork confit and the Milk and Honey dishes she mentioned was several years ago. Back then he was at Eleven Madison Park, a rising star on the culinary scene, who chain-smoked, slept 3 hours a night, and was berated by the EC daily. It was a nightmare peppered with flashes of genius. He was dying to ask her about it, but before he could get her attention Sydney had slipped into the kitchen.

He stared disappointed at the window that separated the dining area and kitchen.

"Hey Bear, what's up with you?" Richie said sidling up to him trying to follow his gaze.

"Nothing cousin."

"Yeah, right. I missed when it happened, but it seems like you crashed and had to reboot during the meeting. Then you were lost in Sydney-land. Want to talk about it?"

Carmy rubbed his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. When he used both hands, Richie knew without a doubt he had hit on something.

"First, cool it about Syd. That handout you gave us was really cute. And yes, there's something on my mind, but it's not for me to say."

Richie grinned and rubbed Carmy's shoulder.

"Fine, just get your head together because tonight is going to be loaded and it includes three anniversaries and a birthday. And second, you need to cool it about her or do something. It's like I'm living in The Wonder Years with Kevin and Winnie."

"What?"

"Oh, right. That's probably before your time. Kids!"

With that Richie sauntered over to the host stands to strategize with the wait staff and hosts.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sydney who had a thousand things to do, was adding at least a hundred more onto her plate. She didn't want to appear like she had a moment to spare. She and Carmy could talk at the end of the night as usual, without any eavesdropping. This would also give her time to think of an explanation as to why she never mentioned eating at Eleven Madison Park and that she wasn't a stalker who followed him to The Beef. To top off this awkward sundae, Carmy casually admitted his favorite part of the day was closing, the only time they are alone every day. She hoped no one else had connected the dots on that last part.

The afternoon and the night never went quicker to her chagrin. Even when one of the line cooks was sent home due to illness and a large group put in an order for 7 Fishes two minutes before tickets closed, she thought the night couldn't last long enough. Fortunately, Carmy seemed resigned to waiting and didn't look at her more than usual. In a flash service was over and no one was in the mood to hang around. By 11:00pm Sydney had cleaned her station for the third time and forced herself to go to Carm's office. He sat there pretending to do busy work, patiently waiting like a child who consoled himself that his parents wouldn't make him wait too long to open his Christmas presents.

"Hey Syd...it was a good night," he said softly not wanting to scare her away.

Sydney nodded and took a seat. Might as well get it over with it.

"Okay, yes. You made the best meal I've ever had. During a break at the CIA, I went to NYC and ate everywhere on my list, including Eleven Madison Park. It was a Wednesday night and I ordered several things including pork confit and Milk and Honey."

Sydney couldn't help closing her eyes and smiling at the memory. Her guard began to slip.

"Carm, it was like tasting my future and the best part of my past at the same time. I asked the waiter who made those dishes and he said Carmen Berzatto."

Carmen leaned forward on the desk. Whenever Sydney praised him, he felt like a cactus in an unexpected downpour. He wouldn't waste a single word. Her sunny existence and her belief in him sustained him during his dry seasons. He reached for her whenever he looked at the debt they still owed Uncle Cicero, when his mother finally visited The Bear and cried saying that he had erased Mikey, and even when their success seemed too good to be true. 

Sydney opened her eyes to find him looking at her in the way he had. It was terrifying because she had a very specific plan for her career. It also thrilled her, knowing the power she had over him. Five months ago, she had been begging for his focus and now she knew every her mood, glance, and word she spoke impacted him. Once for the fun of it during a slow night she stared at him until she drew his attention and smiled. He blushed, smiled back, came towards her without saying "corner", and crashed into one of the servers, sending three Michael cannoli to the floor. That was three months ago when she first realized something was going on with him. She'd refused to abuse her power since, going so far as to convince herself that she was overestimating his feelings. Then he said the best part of his day was closing. She hoped, well sort of hoped, that they could maintain this close, but not too close partnership and friendship without complications.

After a long pause Carmen sighed and sat back in his chair.

"So, how did you find me?"

"Well, like I said when we met, it was the job posting. I recognized your name and also The Beef from my dad taking me here."

She shrugged thoughtfully.

"It felt like it was meant to be. It gave me hope for the first time since Sheridan went under."

He nodded.

"It's really strange. You came here because I inspired you and the only reason, I felt capable of attempting something this big was because of you" he said gesturing to the ceiling.

"Yeah?" Sydney whispered.

"Yeah."

He stood up and walked around to sit on the desk facing her. Now, Sydney felt vulnerable looking up at him. It was so easy for him to unnerve her when he spoke this way, like under the table.

Carmy took one her hands and after a moment brought it to his lips.

"Thank you for telling me, Syd. It means a lot."

Sydney was unable to speak. Her throat had closed.

"Soon, is your one year work anniversary and I think we should celebrate."

She nodded.

Carmy set her hand down.

"It's late. I'll drive you home."

With that they left the office, gathered their stuff, and walked to his car in silence.

As they drove, Sydney attempted to talk herself down. Was that hand kiss, an Italian thing? Possibly. It also seemed like Carmy decided to do...something, but what? Worse, she was feeling like they had traded positions in mere seconds. She'd enjoyed having the upper hand. Oh, well. With a goodnight's rest she'd be back in form tomorrow. Maybe "accidentally" brush past him, or ask him to lift something heavy for her and comment on his strength. Then it would be game over for poor Carmy bear. For now, she wouldn't worry about the work anniversary. It was probably just going to be a cake Carm commissioned Marcus to bake.

Probably.    

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #40] Spinning Bottles

warnings: one of my faves!! drinking games, alcohol, home noraebang a la in the soop, brief game-related kiss with someone who isn't kook, jealous kook!!, ankle hold!! mm mm mm, kitchen kisses <3, mutual masturbation, sex toys (m&f), cum eating, cum swapping, multiple orgasms, just a fun time all round <3, the starlovers are really good at taking breaks!! self control is their forte!!

a/n: they're on wings which is like track 3 of the sy: final setlist and I can't promise ill get much more done of this bc they're in sparkly suits and I'm just a girl

wc: 14.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"Stop," you laugh in that oh-so-serene way you always do when you don't really want Jeongguk to stop whatever he's doing. You just like an excuse to bicker - but he's just the same. Enjoys the back and forth. Always puts a smile on his face.

In the kitchen area of the main house, you've been setting up with Namjoon for the better part of half an hour, making sure that everything is ready for tipsy bingo later that evening.

The room is a chaotic mix of party decorations; an exuberant clash of colours that makes the previously millennial-grey kitchen come to life. Streamers hang from the ceiling, as do the balloons, and a few tiny disco balls, which are really just repurposed Christmas tree decorations.

"Not doing anything," Jeongguk mumbles through a mouthful of the puffed cheese balls that have been set out on the table as a snack for the evening.

Stood on a chair as you tape another one of the disco balls in place, you look over your shoulder to find Jeongguk's cheeks full to the brim. Eyes like a deer caught in headlights, he whips his hand away from the bowl, which now has significantly fewer snacks in it than it did 5 minutes ago.

"Gguk!" You laugh once more, simply shaking your head. "Told you already. They're for later."

"I'm not doing anything," he protests yet again, as if you don't have a pair of working eyes and ears.

"Well, in that case, do something ," you say. "Be useful."

"And do what?" He mumbles through yet another mouthful.

Unbelievable .

Tossing the tape in your hand down onto the kitchen counter, you hop down from the chair and just shake your head as you approach him. His fingertips are orange, and he can't lick them clean because his mouth is full of the cheese puffs that he's pretending aren't there.

"You're like a hamster," you deadpan, squeezing his cheeks a little bit - which causes his ever-so-large eyes to widen even further, scared of the pressure you're applying. Thankfully for him, you don't really fancy getting coated in his regurgitated food. You'll share many things with him, but this is not one of them.

Loosening your grip, you walk around the kitchen island to check in the fridge for the alcohol you bought earlier. "Fancy tending the bar, Dionysus boy?"

Jeongguk frowns. Swallows down the food he totally wasn't eating. Says, "It's my day off!"

"Pretty please," you plead with a pout, and then for good measure you add, "Koo. Please."

He outwardly scowls, but his insides are doing all sorts of silly loop-di-loop shit that usually only happens on rollercoasters. "Don't call me that. Witch."

"Just make a few pitchers for me," you implore, ignoring the choice of insult. You quite enjoy the idea of putting a spell on him. Might make him behave for once. "Starfuckers, Star Lovers, anything. I don't mind. A Woo-woo maybe?"

He scoffs, now. "A Woo-woo? Who do you think I am, B?"

Making his way around the counter, he taps your hips and scoots you out of the way before grabbing the liquor from the bottom shelf.

"A fuckin' woo-woo. It's like you don't even know me," he scolds you. Is ridiculously obtuse in his little tantrum, not caring for the fact he'll be making you exactly what you want. "You'll get what you're given - and you're getting star fuckers. And you're gonna like them."

Rather be getting star fucked, your brain sighs, and you almost verbalise the command for it to shut up.

Instead, you just beam at him like the shooting star you are. "Thank you!"

Leaving him to mumble false annoyances under his breath, you get back on with decking the room to the absolute nines. Jeongguk takes over the playlist, and you let him, even if you do lament the fact Charlie Puth seems to be every other song. The thing is, Jeongguk's voice harmonises so heavenly that it makes even the most overplayed of songs enjoyable.

Eventually, he makes himself extra useful and helps Namjoon rearrange some of the furniture to make the set-up a little bit more like a bingo hall. You and Namjoon get your very own stage - or rather, the boys just haul in a couple of wooden palettes from the deck area that will one day be chopped down for firewood.

Disguised by a little fabric and even more decorative touches from your hands, the room looks like a whimsical coming together of Dionysus and your apartment. Colourful, a little makeshift and incredibly welcoming, it's perfect. Fairy lights line the walls, balloons are scattered around the floor and disco balls take their place on the ceiling.

"Christ alive," is all Jimin mutters as he enters the room - and that's how you know it's perfect. As long as his minimalism-loving interior designer ass hates it, it's everything you could ever want and more.

There's a joy that comes with a room decorated like they're anticipating a toddler's birthday party, yet there are wine glasses in the place where there should be sippy cups - although now you come to think about it, perhaps sippy cups would have been a good idea.

You've barely explained the instructions of the night, and the group are already getting merry. Jeongguk's welcoming shots were a little stronger than normal, by design. He knows you have high hopes for your little event, and wants to help achieve that.

Dressed to the nines while the rest of the group are casual, you and Namjoon are severely committed to the bit. He's in a sweatshirt and bowtie, while you're wearing a pretty, white summer dress with a few ruffles. It's not all that dignified. It's so short that you know bending over isn't a good idea - but it doesn't matter.

Jeongguk still stares at you like a lovesick puppy regardless.

The first round is simple - just your standard game of Bingo. Namjoon has been brushing up on all the correct terms - "Legs eleven! Duck and dive, twenty-five! Meal for two, sixty-nine!"

That last one earns a few groans from the crowd.

It does, however, get a little smirk on Jeongguk's face. On yours, too. You think you're coy when you sneak a glance in his direction, only to see he's doing just the same.

The contact of your gaze lasts for a fraction of a second, but it's enough to awaken dormant butterflies that seem to have hatched quite recently. You're all of a flutter. Can't quite seem to focus.

Thankfully it's Namjoon leading this round, and not you.

Yoongi is the first to call bingo. Screams it quite violently, actually, then plays it cool as if he didn't give a shit. Strolls up to the stage to present his card - not that you've been keeping track of the numbers. Still, you and Namjoon feign deliberation between yourselves, then crown him your first winner.

His prize? Watching on as everyone takes a shot of his choice.

And because he's an absolute heathen, he chooses Fireball.

"You sick fuck," Jimin gasps before he's even taken the shot of cinnamon whisky. Hates the stuff. Knows he's in for a world of pain when he wakes up with a hangover the next morning.

"Not my fault you're a loser," Yoongi teases. "Win next time and then you can pick."

And so, by some miracle - or just him convincing Nabi to switch bingo sheets with him - he does.

Living with a bartender has many perks, and learning specific shots is just one of them. Jimin really hasn't utilised it enough, but Jeongguk looks on with pride as Jimin sets up a round of slippery nipples.

Equal parts sambuca and Baileys, the different densities of the alcohol means that the bottom half of the glass is entirely transparent, while the top half is a pale, creamy brown. Appetising? No. Delicious? Also, no. Fun to watch other people drink? Absolutely.

This time, Jimin forces you and Namjoon to drink. You protest. Cite a particularly bad night out (and morning after) thanks to slippery nipples.

Jeongguk calls you a pussy from across the room.

Challenged, you down it instantly, and mouth 'fuck you' at him after you've stopped wincing from the taste.

He just knocks his shot back without any trouble, grinning as he looks at you, his brows quickly rising and then falling. In the corner of his mouth, his lip ring does that godforsaken thing you love so much, and you decide that you simply cannot look at him for the rest of the evening.

By the third round, things are getting lairy.

Seoyeon calls bullshit when Yoongi wins again - "We're supposed to be a team! You can't be throwing me under the bus!" - and the judges have no choice but to disqualify him - "It's my party!" - and then give him a penalty shot for arguing with the adjudicators - "You're both uninvited to the wedding."

When Seoyeon calls 'bingo' two numbers later, you realise that perhaps she had ulterior motives.

"Unbelievable," Yoongi mutters when she passes him a shot of vodka with a giggle - but as soon as he's downed it, he's got his arm looped back around her shoulders again, and a kiss is being pressed to her cheek.

So in love are Seoyeon and Yoongi that both you and Namjoon gag a little - then force everyone else to take a shot. Star fuckers, this time. One of the pre-made batches you had Jeongguk mix-up earlier. Far more palatable than the other shots. In fact, they're so much nicer, that most people do another shot voluntarily.

With enough liquor in your systems to really let loose, you and Namjoon introduce the real bingo of the night.

Numbered balls back in the cage, Namjoon hands out fresh bingo sheets while you hold up a list, a wicked smile on your face.

Jeongguk recognises that smile. Fuckin' loves it. Knows it means one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"Each number correlates with a 'Never Have I Ever' prompt," you explain. "If you've never done it, you can cross the number off your bingo card."

"And if we have done it?" Taehyung asks, as if you weren't about to just move onto that stipulation of the rules. He's impatient. Wants to win.

"If you have done it, you take a sip of drink."

"And cross it off?" He clarifies, but is horrified to see you shake your head.

"Nope. If you've done it, you take a shot, and leave it uncrossed ."

"No one will ever win!" He wails - not realising that's the whole entire point.

The list is a combination of yours and Namjoon's knowledge. You've directly targeted your friends with things you know they've done. Have tried not to incriminate yourself too much, but you know there are things both you and Jeongguk will be drinking for.

Collectively deciding that no one would be able to win the game, you had both spent the entire time writing out the list giggling.

It was truly a bonding moment for you both - just as you're sure the revelations of everyone's sex lives will be for the whole group. Nothing says 'strong friendship' quite like knowing what your mates get up to in the sack. You and Jeongguk are a testament to this.

With 92 balls in the cage, you really had to scrape the barrel of sexual exploits when coming up with the list.

Which is why the first one gets you laughing before you even read it out.

"74," you announce. "Never have I ever had someone else's toes in my mouth."

"What?!"

"You guys are horrible," Danbi laughs - then takes a shot... as does nearly everyone in the room.

The only person who doesn't is Hoseok. He looks at you all with mild horror and intense curiosity. Points his finger around the room, and judgmentally says, "Disgusting. All of you. Animals."

"Don't knock it till you try it," Namjoon says, before swigging down some of his drink. You can't work out if he's flirting. Decide not to let it linger, 'cause from the look on Hoseok's face, he can't work it out either. Cute.

Namjoon begins to spin the ball cage once more. The small numbered balls rattle against one another as they fight to escape, until one eventually wins.

"21," you declare. "Never have I ever... been walked in on by my housemate."

Taehyung and Danbi both narrow their eyes at you - and your little grin only serves to prove that they're right to think it's aimed at them.

The horrors of New Year's Day still live in your mind rent-free. You don't think you'll ever be able to forget the image of Taehyung darting across your living room stark-bollock naked. You've seen freckles you never should have seen.

"What if your housemate heard you," Jimin asks. "Does that count?"

You and Namjoon deliberate for a moment, then decide that anything that gets more people drinking is positive. Tell him yes.

"Drink up, Gguk," Jimin teases across the room, earning himself a curt, but giggly 'Oh, fuck you' from his housemate. They've lived together for years, so it's hardly a surprise.

Thing is, you know Jimin to be a heavy sleeper. Know that you've gotten away with it pretty much every time you've hooked up with Jeongguk in his apartment. His room is against the living room, but it's across the apartment from Jimin's room. Even times in his bathroom have been masked by running water and the promise of Jimin's hangover keeping him knocked out.

Jimin doesn't tell you to drink.

An ache blooms in your chest in a way you don't really understand.

"Oh actually, in that case," Danbi speaks up, pulling you from your pitiful thoughts, as she pours out a fresh shot and passes it over to you. "You too."

"When?!" you exclaim, previous ponderings of Jeongguk's sex life fading into the abyss.

"Our walls are so thin," she laughs - and you know this to be true. "I've heard horrors."

"Oh, get fucked," you laugh, taking the shot regardless, deliberately not focusing back on Jeongguk.

Probably best.

The way he's looking at you right now would make you spiral; stare hard, jaw tense. He looks down at the table and shakes himself out of it before anyone can notice it. Stupid thing to get worked up about. He knows this. Refuses to let his misplaced emotions ruin the evening.

By the time someone calls bingo, you've lost track of everything - who's done what, which numbers have been called, quite literally all the important stuff.

Still, Taehyung takes his victory like a champ. Makes a speech.

Slurs, as he says, "I'd like to thank my beautiful girlfriend-" hiccups "- And say a very merry fuck you to all of my best friends. I love you."

And then he proceeds to dance, in a way no one expected, and nobody understands. He sort of looks like a cross between a 90-year-old man who occasionally transforms into a pole dancer - things he's learned from Danbi, no doubt.

Everyone watches on with mild horror, but nobody stops him. Jimin films it. In the morning, Taehyung will realise it's been viewed a couple of thousand times on the TikTok account that Jimin has never posted anything on before - but right now, you're all capable of making bad decisions.

Everyone, except for Yoongi and Seoyeon. Already pretty much stolen by drunken slumber, Yoongi carries her bridal-style back to their room in one of the outer houses, and you watch on with Danbi and Nabi cooing at just how sweet they are together.

Nabi knows full well the boys would draw moustaches on her if she fell asleep, and Danbi knows that Taehyung will be the one to fall asleep first if his little dancey-dance is anything to go by. You think about Jeongguk. Wonder if you'd become his responsibility.

"Oh, give over," Danbi laughs when you say you'd be left well alone. "Gguk'd probably worry you were dead and start doing CPR, or something stupid like that."

Nabi laughs. Agrees. "He'd get you on his back and Naruto-run you to the house. Probably land you both in the hospital."

Giggling at the stupidity of it all, you can't help but let the residual stardust in your heart burn. Glancing over at him, you wonder which scenario would be more likely to come true. When he feels your eyes on him, and looks up to meet them with a smile, you decide that you wouldn't mind either of them. Memories made with Jeongguk are things to be cherished, regardless of how stupid they may be.

It's why you ask him to come with you when you head over to the house you're staying in to grab a jacket. The air cools significantly at night still, and your little summer dress really isn't offering you enough protection from the chill.

"I like the dress," he says quietly as he sits on your bed while you rummage around for a jacket.

Holds his hands out for you to take - and when you do, he pulls you back to where you belong, between his spread legs.

Jeongguk looks you up and down as best he can when you're in such close proximity. Ends up just looking at your lips instead. Strokes your hip with the pad of this thumb.

"Pretty, pretty star, aren't you?"

Your eyes drop as your cheeks begin to flame ever so sweetly. Compliments from Jeongguk are nothing new, but they're never quite like this.

"Hmm?" He whispers, a little lopsided grin forming on his face when he realises how bashful you're being. "What's got you shy, huh?"

He really has to ask?

"Not shy," you hum sweetly. Dust make-believe lint away from his shirt. "Was just trying to figure out if that was dust or dandruff."

Rolling his eyes, he just says, "Fuck you, Byeol. My scalp is, like, a gift from the gods. Never had dandruff a day in my life, even when I bleached it."

"Should bleach it again," you tell him just to continue the deflection from your own awkwardness.

"Think you'd like it?" He asks.

"Not really into blondes," you lie. "Would be better for us if you repulsed me a little bit more than you already do."

"You'd be into me even if my head was shaved," Jeongguk snorts.

Ruffling your fingers in his hair, you shake your head. Smirk, and give him those eyes you always pretend to not realise you give him, before turning away to head for the door. "Nah. Need something to hold onto."

"You're filth, Disco Ball," he calls after you.

Looking back over your shoulder as you reach the door, the swish and flick of your ponytail matching the skirt of your summer dress, you're well aware that you're flirting. Well aware you shouldn't be flirting. Well aware that you shouldn't say the next few words, and yet you just can't seem to help yourself.

"You love it."

Jeongguk says nothing. Purses his lips. Fails to hide his smile, or formulate any response before you're already heading through the common area of the house and for the front door. He's damned if admits it, damned if he denies it. Silence in the space of truth is far safer, he thinks.

Following as you head back to the main house, you talk nonsense. The stars watch on with a fond sparkle, waves crashing ever so softly against the shore.

By the time you're back at the house, everyone has migrated to the sitting room, and Namjoon and Nabi have just finished a rendition of Finesse on the home-noraebang system.

Lights off, a couple of lamps and disco bulbs are the only thing providing any light, dappling you all in the most whimsical colours, as if you really are in a noraebang.

Jeongguk watches on with a quiet smile as you and Danbi enthuse over which song to sing next.

Neither of you are able to remember the name of any song ever released, apparently, and instead have resorted to tapping through random lettings into the machine and seeing if something tickles your fancy.

Currently, you're scrolling through artists that begin with 'C', and you can't help but fixate a little bit when you scroll down to Charlie Puth.

He's not your favourite - something about him just irks you - but you know Jeongguk loves him. Know that if you and Danbi sing one of his songs, it'll put a smile on Jeongguk's face. That he'll watch on from the sofas with a giggle, and probably sing along, too. Knowing the boys, you half think they all will.

And so you wave your arm in front of you as Danbi continues pressing the down button, and say, "That one! The duet with Selena."

One of Danbi's many blessings is the way she seems to retain every song she's ever heard in her brain. Even if a song she doesn't know is chosen, she can usually pick it up.

And so, even though it wouldn't be her first pick, she's more than happy to oblige. Clicks through, as Taehyung walks into the room with the final jug of premade starfuckers. Wisely, he's also got a big bottle of water tucked beneath his arm, but you doubt you'll be having much of that, in all honesty.

"I'll be Charlie," Danbi offers, knowing that her register is a little lower than yours - not that either of you can actually sing well. In fact, you half think the boys might have to leave the room. Singing really isn't a strength that belongs to either of you, but it is also what makes it so much fun.

You avoid turning to look at Jeongguk as the instrumental starts, the multi-coloured disco light shining on you both like you really are fully-fledged pros. Naively, you think you can get away with a glance in the mirror that's standing in the corner of the room - only to find a pair of fond eyes staring back at you.

Immediately, you look away. It's so embarrassing to be caught, regardless of how many times Jeongguk has locked eyes with you in mirrors. In the gym during those early days, in his bedroom, in his lounge, bars, bathrooms - ever-present. Always there. Like a pair of cosmic entities, you're still orbiting one another.

You're on course for collision, and it'll be catastrophic.

The inevitable calamity of your pairing is disregarded as Danbi gets into the lyrics, and you're pleased she's just as terrible as she always is. Gets everyone laughing, and singing along. It's Jeongguk's voice that holds your focus - and the way he stops singing when Danbi reaches the pre-chorus.

Don't wanna know,

It's odd, you think. The pre-choruses are always fun.

What kind of dress you're wearing tonight.

But then you stop singing, too.

If he's holding onto you so tight, the way I did before.

And then you're a little bolder in the way you let your eyes land in the mirror. Accept the way his eyes are already on you, lips parted ever so slightly, brows hard as he contemplates thoughts you don't want to let yourself imagine.

Jeongguk is in your head. The touch of his soft hands against your hips. The way he had declared you to be a pretty, pretty star bouncing around your skull. The fondness of his eyes on yours in the sanctuary of a private room.

It's so stupid . It was just a compliment. It really doesn't mean anything more than what it exactly expressed - and yet you wonder if Jeongguk is listening to the lyrics a little too intently. If he's thinking about you how you thought about him during the final round of bingo; with someone else.

You don't let yourself dwell on it. Danbi's chorus is finishing, and you've got lines to belt. Can't be letting your drunk brain get wrapped in nonsense that really doesn't make a difference.

Danbi forgets the concept of a duet, and continues to sing full pelt into the mic during Selena's part, but you don't mind. The pair of you sing at one another in such an aggressive manner that you can't help but giggle.

Every now and then I think you might want me to come show up at your door.

Jeongguk watches you a subtle smile on his lips. Wonders if you realise just how awful your singing is, and how volume doesn't negate a total lack of tone.

But I'm just too afraid that I'll be wrong.

Despite the fact you do sound like a drowning cat, there's something about this line that makes him feel a little something more than just bemusement. Previous uncomfortable thoughts of you with someone else echo in his mind.

He can't work out if there are signals that he's missing. Knows you've been working on your fears together, and quite successfully at that, but wonders which new ones could have evolved since you first wrote out the birds.

Neither of you are the people you were back then. Jeongguk thinks you're both better for it - but you're not perfect. Not by a country mile.

But perfection is for Hollywood stars, not the actual, living, breathing manifestation of the cosmic entities. It's your flaws that make you shine, and so maybe small fears are okay. If you've got someone to hold your hand throughout them all, then you'll never really need to be afraid again.

If you've done one thing right in your lifetime, it's befriending Jeongguk.

He's brought a richness to your life that you don't think you've ever known before. A year on since your first introduction, and it feels like this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

So you ignore the weightiness of your pre-chorus lyrics. Push the thoughts of Hayun out of your mind when you sing about another woman. She can only ruin your mood if you let her.

In the darkness of a room lit only by party lights, surrounded by friends, mediocre pop hits and the laughter of the ones you love, you never want to lose moments like these.

Finishing off on a particularly horrifying note, you and Danbi are the first to call bullshit when the noraebang system gives you a score of 63.

"Fuck you!" Danbi calls into the mic. "We were perfect!"

"You just don't know talent when you hear it," you second, middle finger pointed upwards, directed at the plastic box full of wires.

"Biased! Tone deaf!" Danbi insults the machine, just for good measure, then hands the mic over to whoever wants to go next, but warns. "It doesn't know what it's on about!"

Jimin hops up instantly. Tells the boys that they have to join. Refuses to tell them what they'll be singing - but makes sure they close their eyes until the instrumental starts.

There's laughter amongst the boys that just glows and illuminates the room. Opening their eyes, they instantly get themselves into a little formation, Jimin in the central role.

The look on his face is one of unbridled success. This is exactly what he was after.

Yourself, Danbi and Nabi watch on with great amusement as Shinhwa's Perfect Man begins to belt out of the speakers, and the boys start their rendition with fucking choreography. Practised shit. Learnt .

The three of you giggle at the sight in front of you, completely bemused.

Jimin is pitch-perfect taking the lead, and the rest of the boys share a mic between them, passing it around every now and again. You can tell it's not the first time they've ever done this, and truth be told, you'd like to know when the first time was - what on earth prompted them to learn a full routine?!

Cheering them on, you and the girls play the ultimate role of cheerleaders - and when Jimin strips off towards the end? Oh, you've never screamed louder for a man. There are smiles on the faces of quite literally every single person in the room.

Or at least there is, until the noraebang machine grades them, and you think Jimin might just throw it out of the window.

"SIXTY-TWO?!" He yells. "Sixt- oh, this is unbelievable! Sixty-fucking-two?!"

"Losers," Danbi teases the boys, who are finding the whole thing hilarious - but also begin to take offence, too.

"It's wrong!" Taehyung begins to insist, too. "We are perfect men."

How on earth they scored a point less than you will remain a mystery until your dying days, you're sure of it - but for now, it's fun to tease them.

As Jeongguk takes the seat beside you on the sofa, you get a little more comfortable. Bring your knees to your chest, and then lean into his relaxed recline. His breath is a little heavier thanks to his dancing, lungs heaving ever so slightly, skin warm.

You speak quietly to him beneath pandemonium unfurling.

"Since when are you a K-pop trainee?" you say with a teasing smile.

Jeongguk just nudges you away, then pulls you back, his drunk smile so pretty beneath purple lights currently dancing around the room. So pretty. So perfect. So deserving of a little kiss for a job well done.

"Eyes up here," he whispers, still grinning. "Why? Did you like it?"

"Fuck you," you reply to his first statement, and take one last glance at his dewy lips, which he licks, before toying with his lip ring in the way he does that always drives you a little bit insane.

"Now? B, our friends are here," he flirts quietly before you can answer his questions. There's a certain sin to the way he looks at you after a couple of drinks, and it always gets you thinking about the way he worships you like a saint beneath the sheets. Gets you a little desperate; needy for a touch you know you shouldn't love as much as you do. "A little decorum, please."

And so once more, you just say 'fuck you' with a giggle - but then you're letting out a small yelp as Jeongguk drags you to your feet, grabbing the mics from Jimin, who is still cursing out the machine.

Your friends cheer you on while you accept two shots of fuck-knows what from Taehyung, while Jeongguk loads up a song. He doesn't consult you first, and you don't care to be consulted, either way. You're so drunk that anything will do. So is he - but he picks this one deliberately: Replay by SHINee.

Picks it, 'cause every time he hears it, he thinks of you. Wants to sing it with you, 'cause he's too timid to sing it at you. This gives him a little plausible deniability. Smart, even when he's steaming, Jeongguk is pleased when he sees you smiling at the screen.

It's a break-up song, but that's not really why he chose it. Chose it 'cause he remembers the way you, Danbi and Hoseok fuckin' lit up one evening towards the start of your friendship with him when it came on in Dionysus.

Reminds him of how the lyrics bemoaned other guys looking at the singer's pretty Noona, and how he'd sung along quietly by the bar, glancing over to you discreetly - only to earn himself a whip from a tea towel thanks to Yeonjun.

See, Jeongguk has never been discreet a day in his life when it comes to you. Is realising this much later than he should have done - but is already fuckin' serenading you in front of all of your friends, as if he didn't realise they'd all totally know what he's doing.

You're completely unsurprised that Jeongguk somehow seems to know the dance to this one, too.

You do not, but you also don't need to because Jeongguk is playing the role of a devoted, love-drunk fool perfectly. Gestures towards you with every beat of the song.

The real pièce de résistance?

When Taehyung and Jimin join as fucking backup dancers to the bridge and final chorus.

At this point, you take a seat next to Danbi on the sofa, and the pair of you belt the lyrics into your shared mic, though half of the words are replaced with your drunk giggles instead. Holding out your hand, you beckon for Nabi to come and join you. She happily obliges you, and the three of you are the perfect recipients of the boys and their little performance.

Hoseok and Namjoon are half invested, half busy animatedly chatting about something else instead. You leave them be. Think they look quite cute.

The boys in front of you, however, are a picture-perfect idol group, even if they are rat-arsed, and a little rusty on the old dance moves. Somehow their coordination is spot on, and it just raises even more questions.

You're still laughing when the score comes through and the boys are too busy congratulating themselves on a job well-done to notice it either.

Still holding the mic, Jeongguk holds his hand out for you to join him again.

"Sorry," he laughs. "We'll do something properly this time - your choice."

And even though it is your choice, you pick something that you know will be right up his alley. Wanna do something he likes, because seeing him with a smile on his face is maybe your favourite thing in the world.

"Oh, banger," he beams as the song loads up, and you're pleased to have chosen well.

"Young Money," you start, then replace Justin's name with that of your best friend and gesture towards him. "Jungkooooook!"

He takes the role of Justin Bieber so seriously that you can't help but laugh. Smoulders .

"Show you off," he gestures towards you as the song begins. "Tonight I wanna show you off."

The pair of you dance around, both singing, not really caring for the lines you're supposed to take. Really do party like it's 3012 tonight.

Moments like these - trapped between the unadulterated joy of what it's like to be young, and the heavy understanding that the people around you will be with you until you're old - are what life is for. You've sung in countless noraebangs, and consumed even more countless drinks - but this? Here? Right now? Tonight?

This is one night you'll remember for the rest of your life. Perhaps not the specifics, and perhaps the alcohol will ravage your memories, but in 5, 10, 20 years, you'll feel just as fond about this evening as you feel about it right now.

Not just for Jeongguk, but for all of your friends. For the unwavering amusement that comes with being in a group that just gets each other, despite any differences. There's a safety and serenity here that is rare to come by. You're lucky.

And yet all of these complex and heavy emotions fizzle away to simple joy.

Jeongguk's hand snakes around your waist at some point or another, and you know you're dancing a little too closely in front of everyone else.

Not a single person cares. They just cheer you on. Will be dancing in just the same ways when it's their turn.

The fact that you took the role of Selena in your earlier duet with Danbi isn't lost on anyone, as Jeongguk gestures towards you when you sing, "Gotta keep an eye out for Selena."

The whole thing is ridiculous. The song, the way you and Jeongguk are so into it, the way you're acting if a little bit of free space in the sitting room is a stage in front of thousands.

Arm around your waist, Jeongguk pulls you a little closer as you finish Nicki's verse. Your arm slinks around his neck - and your friends go absolutely feral . Sharing just one mic, eyes on one another, there's no denying that your bodies are well-acquainted. It's in the way they move together so effortlessly, his hips a little too telling as they roll to beat of the song.

Body rock; I wanna see your body rock.

Oh, it's dastardly. Sinful. Who do you think you're fooling?!

'Cause all I need is a beauty and a beat, who can make my life complete.

A beauty and a beat? Yeah. When he looks at you, Jeongguk knows in this moment he's got both .

The way friends cheer you on would suggest they're very much aware of the fact Jeongguk has, by all metrics, seen your body rock. Neither of you care for subtleties. You're drunk, and it's your nearest and dearest around you. Who gives a fuck?

The way he belts the final chorus - it's aaaall 'bout yooouu - just solidifies the fact he's wasted behind a bar. Should be on stages, in some capacity. Calls you a star, but fuckin' hell - he's the real one.

Earning a much more respectable score - 83 - you and Jeongguk are given a standing ovation as you laugh all the way back to your previous seats.

Bundled up next to Jeongguk on the sofa, Danbi is on your other side.

Taehyung takes centre stage. Does that weird little dance again. Starts a song that nobody recognises at first, until the chorus kicks in - " Because you're gorgeous, I'd do anything for you" - and he turns to dramatically serenade Danbi à la Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. Different song, granted, but same exact vibe.

A one-man show, Taehyung is every bit the charismatic casanova. Even gets to his knees in despair, just so that Danbi knows how tragically gorgeous she is.

And yet despite the showmanship, it's Jeongguk humming along quietly to the song that has you feeling all sorted of fucked up. The way he nudges against you so subtly that nobody in the darkened room notices? The way he sings softly beneath his breath, right into your ear? The kiss against your hair that is fleeting everyone will miss it?

Oh, it's torture .

When Namjoon and Hoseok take the mics and do their best rendition of Epik High's Born Hater, everyone loses their shit. Taehyung is the best hype man you think you've ever seen - part of you thinks he might actually steal the mic at one point. Thankfully, he grabs an empty soju bottle and uses that instead.

They're the first - and only - 100-point score of the evening. You're pretty sure Seoyeon and Yoongi's early night will have been disturbed by the shriek of congratulations from you all upon the big shiny score on the screen. All far too drunk to really care for volume control, the party is far from over.

In fact, it's only just getting started. For all the talk of your house being the people who would be partying the hardest, you think it's pretty evenly split.

Danbi and Taehyung are, predictably, disgustingly cute together - but you know your best friend. A few drinks in her and she'll become trouble.

You're proven right when you're all sitting on the floor, taking a break from the home-noraebang session.

Still drinking, talking about nonsense, Taehyung is twiddling with his empty soju bottle turned noraebang mic on the carpet. He's spinning it without much thought, never really letting it stop - but when it does?

Yeah, Danbi is in one of those moods.

"On Jimin?" Danbi exclaims with a gasp, casting her eyes down to the bottle as it comes to a stop, the cap-end facing a very confused Jimin.

Taehyung looks just as confused for a second. Follows her gaze - and then realises what she's insinuating. "Oh, God. No. Absolutely not!"

He's not about to play spin the fucking bottle - especially not with his friends when his girlfriend is right beside him.

Jimin immediately takes offence, much in the same way he did when Jeongguk refused to fuck him. If even his friends won't get with him, what chance does he have?

"What's wrong with me?! Why wouldn't you?" He wails, flopping down to the floor from his seated position. "First Gguk, now you?"

"I'm not kissing you."

"Why not?" He whines. Doesn't really want to kiss Taehyung, but is offended that Taehyung doesn't want to kiss him. Rude.

"Because!" Taehyung says, hoping that it's reason enough.

For Jimin, it absolutely is not reason enough.

"This is so mean. I'd kiss you if the bottle told me to," he assures his friend.

Danbi, in classic, troublesome, Danbi style eggs it on. Says to Taheyung, "I'd kiss DB."

"Okay firstly," you laugh, looking at her with shock. "Since when the fuck have you ever called me DB ?!"

"It's just your name, now," Jimin interrupts. "Accept it."

"No," you don't bother humouring him, but are still finding the whole thing incredibly funny. "And secondly, we've already kissed a bunch of times, so it doesn't matter."

Jeongguk and Taehyung both chirp in surprise at this. Look at their respective girlies with little confusion, and are both met with a collective, "What?"

"I mean, do guys not kiss their besties?" Nabi interjects from across the circle, which also makes Jeongguk whip his head up towards her. You know the confusion directed at you is now directed towards her, and her bestie.

And it pisses you off - because you're drunk, and thoughts are irrational, and even though Jeongguk is well within his right to maybe be surprised, you think he's stupid for caring about where Hayun's mouth has been.

He doesn't care. Not like that. You know this.

Know that any embers that had still been burning for her when you first met him have well and truly been put out.

You're the one who cares. You're the one who is being stupid.

But isn't everyone a little irrational when they've had a few too many?

Reaching over to the bottle, you turn to look at him, and just say, "It's like, so normal; kissing your friends."

It's not like you ever kiss Danbi when you're sober. Only ever when you're drunk, and not really ever with much thought behind it.

Granted, you haven't done it in years. Was more of a thing you'd do during your reckless uni years.

Once you met Seokjin, your behaviour on nights out changed quite significantly. Matured. And after him? Well, people would be lucky to get a kiss from you, full-stop.

Your words are layered, though. It's so normal, kissing your friends.

He says nothing. Keeps his mouth shut. Tense. Looks at you as you turn away, and refuses to look elsewhere. Knows exactly what you meant.

What we do? It's normal. Nothing special. Don't get it twisted.

Spinning the bottle on the carpet, you're the one asking for trouble, now. Are committed to the bit. Want the thoughts of you kissing someone else in his head, purely cause you don't want the thoughts of Hayun in there instead.

It's a strange sensation that sears through your veins. One that you don't often feel; one that you hate. Makes you feel all green. Bitter.

You don't let it show. Instead, as the bottle slows to a stop, you're a bit giggly. It's the alcohol influencing your behaviour; thoughts not as clear as they usually are. Your intentions differ from the oncoming outcome. The dots of any hurt that could be caused don't join with the dots of your pre-existing sour emotions. The lines are wibbly wobbly.

Jeongguk knows that drinking is a big factor in your boldness, now. Also knows you've got total free will. You can do what you like. He won't stop you.

If anything, he should be proud of this. Of your willingness. Of the fact you'll kiss someone without a care in the world.

Yes, it's different to kissing someone in bed, but it's still a kiss. Still something he thinks you wouldn't have done this time last year. It's progress, albeit at the expense of the progression of whatever the fuck your relationship is these days.

He watches on with a stern gaze as the bottle finishes its final spin.

Directly across from you, it points to Nabi.

Poetic, almost, how you were concerned about Jeongguk's thoughts of Hayun kissing her.

She tilts her head a little, as if to ask, "Shall we?"

You repeat her motion, and remind the boys, "It's really not a big deal."

Jeongguk bites back a remark he could make about you, and kissing, and it being the biggest fuckin' deal he's ever known.

Yet he's silent as the rest of the group egg you and Nabi on. It's juvenile, how neither of you properly stand to cross the circle, but instead both lean forward, supporting yourselves with your hands and knees until you reach the centre.

He's thankful for one thing only, and it's the fact you're wearing a teeny tiny pair of shorts beneath your dress. Would have been catastrophic otherwise. Already kinda is.

There's a subtle curve to your spine. One that Jeongguk knows well. Doesn't notice if Nabi has a similar feline posture, for he's only focused on you.

And even as you and Nabi get far closer than you've ever been before, giggling like a pair of kids getting up to no good, it's the loose grip that Jeongguk has on your ankle that really has your attention.

It's a warning.

Have your fun, his touch tells you. But not too much fun.

You could pull your leg further forward. Could rid it of his grip.

But you don't. You stay shackled to him like a prisoner of crimes you're yet to commit.

There's no build-up, nor anticipation of the meeting of your lips with Nabi's. No trepidation. No nerves.

Admittedly, there's a slight hesitation. A couple of giggles. A little excitement, sure. She's gorgeous after all - the kind of girl anyone would be lucky to kiss. You've thought from the get-go that she's attractive, but have also never spent time with her when Jeongguk wasn't there, too.

No matter how pretty a face is, his will always be your favourite.

Even as she presses down into the kiss, lips gentle and plump, quite unlike Jeongguk's, it's the soft stroke of his thumb over your ankle that cracks through you like a volt of electricity.

Over as quickly as it started, you and Nabi both come away from the kiss with smiles, and coy looks upon your faces.

"See," you tell Taehyung, who is staring in disbelief, as you come to sit back beside Jeongguk. Are sad to lose his touch, but daren't look at him, because you don't want to know how he's feeling. What you just did was selfish, and you know it. "It's not a big deal."

Danbi nods. Takes the reins of the conversation. Agrees with you, but also caught the look on Jeongguk's face as it happened, and realises that maybe she should be careful about what she wishes for.

Decides that Spin the Bottle should remain a relic of cursed high school parties. Has no space at an event like this. Instead, she reaches for the deck of cards on the side table and gets to arranging them in a circle. Bottle still in the middle, she swaps it out for an empty glass.

Jeongguk gets to his feet. Is only going to grab another drink, but doesn't voice it to you. Doesn't voice it to anyone.

Danbi glances over to you - and unlike Jeongguk, she is good at being discreet. Tilts her sharply, subtly. Silently says, " Go ."

You relent for a moment, 'cause you know you're in trouble - but also know that's exactly why you need to follow him.

The lights are out in the kitchen, illuminated only by the lamps pouring in through the arch from the living room. The fridge is open, and Jeongguk is hidden by the door that he opens as soon as he notices you entering the room.

Really did just come for a drink, but also doesn't really wanna talk to you right now. Doesn't really understand the way he's feeling. It's not jealousy. That's one feeling he thinks he's got a good grasp on. It's something, though. Not nothing.

Coming to stand in the corner of the counters, you're also obscured from anyone entering the room. The fridge door acts as a shield.

And so Jeongguk closes it.

Turns to face you, but doesn't walk towards you. Is silent.

The shrouded darkness of the corner you've backed yourself into hides the way your heart is beating a mile a minute. The shadows obscure the look on Jeongguks face but you know him well enough now to know that his jaw is tense.

Shoulder silhouetted, you can see they are, too. Scatches as he finally asks, "Did you have your fun?"

You're silent.

He looks as if he's about to say something, and then just sighs.

Placing the bottle in his hand down on the counter, and there's a clatter that you assume is a bottle opener going with it. His sighs. Relaxes his shoulders.

Shakes his head. Considers for a second, then husks, "Fuck it."

The gap between you both is closed by Jeongguk, his hand cupping your jaw as he presses his liquor-laced lips down into yours. Has your body pressed close to his, then deepens the closeness and he does the same with the kiss. Pulls away, but only briefly. Only to give you a chance to stop it.

But you just pull him back. Needily get his lips on yours. Mirror his body language. Are desperate to feel his desire; begging for him to want you as much as your drunk mind wants him .

His kisses are rough. Aggressive. Assertive.

Until all very suddenly, they soften. The exhale of breath from his nose is warm on your cheek, both of you unable to properly regulate the oxygen you need. The issues had been fast and fleeting, but they'd been a force to be reckoned with. He rarely kisses you like that; without sweetness, or reservation.

He'd kissed you with purpose, and you damn well know it.

Is still holding your jaw as he leans his forehead against yours, noses nudging ever so gently.

"You gotta stop kissing my fuckin' friends, B," he says. " Our friends. You gotta stop."

It's not like you make a habit of it. You've kissed Jimin, like, once - but you know exactly what he means. Say nothing. Just nod. Let him kiss you again. Tenderly, now.

He's slow as he withdraws. Keeps you trapped between his body and the cabinets as he reaches behind you for an empty glass. Remains in position as he twists his upper body to swing the fridge door open, and grabs the filtered water jug.

The light around him from the fridge casts a halo, befitting of a man such as him. Heaven-sent, is Jeon Jeongguk, and you've been blessed to have known him during your time on this earth. You might not get so lucky in your next life. Need to stop taking it for granted.

It's funny, 'cause he's thinking the exact same thing about you.

The refrigerator light gets you sparkling. Puts all those stars back in your eyes. Ones he needs to stop stealing, 'cause you deserve to be as shiny as you possibly can be.

He comes around you like a magpie, and takes your shine, he thinks.

Doesn't realise you've been glowing ever since you met him because of him.

You were dull, before. The glitter was only ever a facade.

Yet it's permanent now - or a least it will be, until your star lover decides chasing a shooting star is a losing game.

"Here," he says as he passes you the water. "You're fucked."

You take a sip, then pass it back and say, "Here. You're fucked."

This does at least make him smile. Alleviates some of the discomfort that had temporarily brewed between you both. He nods. "Yeah. I am."

Pulling himself away, he holds his hand behind himself for you to take. Doesn't wanna fight with you. Just wants you two to be good. Doesn't care for dumb, petty fights. Knows that deep down, you don't either.

"C'mon," he hums quietly, as your fingers lace between his. "Let's go back."

He deliberately leaves the drink he was getting behind on the counter. Has had enough tonight. Doesn't tell you as such, but is pleased that you seem content sipping your water instead of reaching for more drinks during the next game. Just giggle along with whatever is happening, the mood between you both far easier than it had been a few moments previously.

Communication, it would seem, is key. Jeongguk appreciates the fact that you sought him out, even if you didn't really say anything. Knows that it was a way for you to let your defences down, something of which he isn't sure you'd have done a few months ago.

Then again, he's also not sure he'd have felt so irrationally jealous a few months ago, either.

But you're learning. Both of you are. Rome wasn't built in a day, and Jeongguk's just glad you're getting your hands dirty with the rubble and bricks of your relationship traumas, too. Are rebuilding yourself, and in turn, something new. Somewhere he thinks could make for a lovely home, one day.

One by one, back in the living room, yawns spread contagiously. It's Hoseok first, then Namjoon. Across the circle, Jeongguk follows suit. When you begin to yawn, he strokes your back.

"Bed?" he asks quietly, to which you nod.

He nods back. "I'll go get some water to take back to the house. Want any snacks?"

You shake your head, unable to verbalise a response thanks to the yawn taking hold of you. Dawn will be breaking soon, you're sure. Yoongi and Seoyeon went to bed hours ago. All you need is a really good sleep.

As the four of you meander back up to your house, Nabi and Jimin nattering, while Jeongguk hangs back a little bit, you find yourself distracted.

Arms crossed, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and his lips on yours in the kitchen, and how unbelievably reckless it was. Anyone could have walked in.

But perhaps that would have been okay.

Turning to check he's still walking towards the house, a smile settles on your face where a frown once was. Phone held up to the sky, Jeongguk is taking pictures of the moon. Zooming in as far as he can, and getting frustrated every time his still-drunk hands wobble a little too much.

"Tomorrow," you call over softly - and like a dog hearing a whistle, he doesn't hesitate to walk your way. "We can go star-gazing. Get pictures."

He nods. Comes to stand by you. Carries on walking, taking your hand as he does so. Sounds sleepy as he mumbles, "M'kay."

By the time you arrive back at the house a few minutes later, Jimin and Nabi are still nattering in the communal area. With your rooms being on different floors, and both of you desperately fighting alcohol-induced yawns, neither you nor Jeongguk can be bothered with the hassle of sharing a bed tonight.

You retire to separate rooms, and both hate it.

There's an emptiness, you think. One that only he can fill. The room is dark, but a little light sneaks in from the harbour, and the lamps that remain lit all night to keep boats away.

Catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, it's your glitter that acts like harbour lights, you think. A warning to never get too close.

Jeongguk did it anyway.

Thoughts like these plague your mind as you toss and turn, failing to get comfy. There are enough pillows. The duvet is perfectly nice. The mattress is fine. There's just something missing.

Someone .

But fuck- you don't need him. Depending on a man is something you never want to do, especially not for something as simple as falling asleep.

Even though you're trying to rid your brain of his presence, you find yourself thanking him as you hop out of bed and head to your suitcase. If there's one thing that will exhaust you, it's a good orgasm.

Given how sleepy his eyes were prior to you saying your farewells, all puffy and a little bloodshot, you don't imagine he'll hear a peep - and if he does, it'll likely just become a strange addition to whatever bizarre dream he'll no doubt tell you he had in the morning.

Rummaging around a little, you look for that one final thing he ensured you added to the suitcase. Find some lingerie first that you definitely didn't add to the pile - the same ones you packed for Busan just to get a rise out of him - and scoff. Presumptuous mother fucker .

Eventually, you find your rabbit. A dildo-vibrator hybrid, it works wonders. The translucent black silicone is always a little cold to touch - never like the real thing - but it fills a hole, for lack of a better term. Does the job. Does things a cock can't do - but it can never make you feel like he does.

The house is quiet, now. Nabi and Jimin retired to their own beds a good quarter of an hour ago. You know that Jimin will be out like a light, and Nabi is the furthest room from yours. The only worry you have is Jeongguk beneath you - but so what? Nothing he hasn't heard before.

Still, you only dare turn the vibrator on to the lowest mode.

Wearing just your panties, Jeongguk's shirt that you'd stolen now discarded on the floor, you run the toy over your clothed cunt. Let the sensation overcome any other physical manifestation of your feelings.

It hums ever so quietly, a hushed moan trapped in your throat as you work your hips up into the vibration. Other-wordly in how it makes you feel, there's no point trying to keep dignified.

Ridding yourself of your panties, you lie on your back, legs spread. Tease your entrance with the head of the cock-shaped dildo. Sharply inhale as you press against your hole - but you're not ready, yet.

The feeling isn't enough.

You need thoughts too.

Thoughts of him. Of his body. Of the way he smiles whenever he sees you like this. How he'd tower over you. Line himself up. Press kisses to your lips. Down your throat. On your chest. How he'd take your nipples in his mouth, and suck them for hours if he could. How he'd tell you he's still an ass guy, even if sucking on your tits gets him so hard he could cum in 5 seconds flat whenever he does it.

Your dildo now sinks into your cunt with little resistance, the thoughts of Jeongguk seemingly enough to get you ready.

There's a slight burn. Friction. Evidence that you're not totally there yet. The alcohol has definitely affected it. Funny, how it never affects it when you're with Jeongguk. Have fucked him countless times after a few drinks with no issues.

No reason to have them now. The only difference is him.

It frustrates you.

You don't need a man. You don't .

Groaning, you rid yourself of your toy. Flick the switch to make sure it's off. Toss it down beside you and let it land with a thud on the mattress. Stare up at the ceiling and curse.

Reaching over for your phone, you're about to google methods of getting to sleep when you're both horny and unable to get yourself off, when a message pings through.

You wince before you even read it - and when you do read it? Well, you think you'd quite like to simply die.

JK: Round two?

Admittedly, it's better receiving it from him than it would from Jimin - but it's still mortifying to know that he could hear it.

You must still be drunk. It's the only thing that justifies such reckless abandon for your grace.

And it's also the excuse you'll use for the fact you send him back a message that simply says: My door is open.

Not even a minute later, Jeongguk says nothing as he enters your room. He's in his underwear and a shirt, but as soon as he shuts the door, he grabs the material by the nape of his neck, and rids himself of it. Is just in his Calvins, now. Just how you like him.

It's not like you greet him either, a blanket pulled up to cover your dignity, but you're both aware there's a heaviness to the air between you. Something unspoken. Something that will remain unsaid, because you're both scared to lose the weight of your own feelings.

Instead, he just grips the back of the chair by the vanity unit and turns it around. Sits. Is arrogant in how he looks at you, just like he was that night you got far too acquainted with his pull-up bar and favourite tie.

In his hand is something you can't quite make out.

Something about his gaze, and how it holds your own, makes it hard for you to speak. You fear you'll say the wrong thing. Fear he'll look away. Turns out, just as he suspects, you do have new fears - and they all pertain to him, or moreso a lack of him.

You play it safe. Nod towards his hand. Whisper, "Watcha got?"

"You said we shouldn't fuck," he reminds you with an arrogant smirk. Knows that this will drive you fuckin' insane. "Thought I should come prepared."

It's only when he holds it up that you realise he's holding a fucking fleshlight . Clear. Silicone.

"Holy shit," you breathe out. Have never actually seen one in the flesh - no pun intended - let alone see a man bold enough to use one in front of you.

"Remember how we used to watch each other get off?" he asks, unashamed - or just drunk. Doesn't wait for a reply. Just says, "Let's do that."

The way he's so convicted in his wants and desires - how he knows the parameters of your arrangement, yet bends the rules to fit his fucking whims - will never fail to amaze you. He's determined to get you coming undone, and that in and of itself is so unbelievably hot.

His body is hard to make out from the low lighting, but the ridges of his toned chest have you salivating. There's a sheen to his fingers - lube, you assume for the toy - and it spreads over his abdomen as he softly traces his fingertips over his body. Lightly touches himself. His small, hard nipples. Rasps a little.

Arousal, for him, isn't just simply his cock getting hard. He likes to engage his senses. S'why he likes fucking you so much. You're a treat for all five of 'em.

You're too far away to touch. To taste. To smell - and oh god, that's the one that gets him the most. Just wants to bury the tip of his prettily pointed nose in your hair, down the valley of your breasts, in your cunt. Pheremones are a wonderful thing, and the effect they have on Jeongguk can only be likened to a Class A substance. Pupils dilated, body and mind disconnected, he needs the high you give.

For now, he settles on sight and sound. Smirks when you gasp at the sight of what he's doing.

Eyes fixated on him, you watch on as Jeongguk grips the fleshlight and pushes it down ever so gently. He barely penetrates it. Just the tip. Grunts a little. Pulls it back up, so that the crown of his cock is kissing the entrance.

God, how you wish it was you. Want to feel that first intrusion of his cock inside you. How big he is; how well he always stretches you out. So intensely focused on him, you don't even really realise how you're toying with your chest.

Despite the shrouded darkness of the room, enough light is funnelling in through the curtains for you to clearly see his movements; his expressions.

Jaw slack, Jeongguk doesn't give a fuck about looking dignified. He knows there's no point. Doesn't want to pretend like you don't arouse him beyond the point of sane thoughts.

He thinks the same could be said for you.

"C'mon, B," he begs quietly. "Get yourself off for me."

His breathy moan as he pushes further into the toy only encourages you to do the same. Matching his desperately soft moans, you sink your rabbit inside yourself, and find any earlier resistance is gone. You don't need a man, but fuck . Jeon Jeongguk is an exception to the rule.

Filling yourself, it's nothing like the sensation that comes with Jeongguk - the warmth of his skin, the scent of his aftershave, the weight of his body on top of yours - but it is unlike anything else you've ever known as he looks across to you.

There's a smirk breaking on his lustful expression, sinful satisfaction that has you moaning as you penetrate yourself with the toy that he insisted you bring. Not much introspection is given to how you're pleasuring yourself; too focused on the way he's pleasuring himself.

Knees closing together, toes digging into the sheets, your hand is trapped between your thighs. It's a more natural state of being, you find. Gets your walls a little tighter. Feels better, even if it doesn't look as good. Whining a little as you build a pace, you're so wet that you can hear the way you're fucking yourself - and so can Jeongguk.

The lewd sounds of his cock fucking into the toy he's using slow a little. His laboured breaths become controlled. He's easing off the gas - not hitting the break, but definitely doing something.

"Since when have you been shy?" He teases you a little breathlessly. Holds the fleshlight to the base of his cock. Fills it. Keeps himself warm, laboured grunts catching in his throat as he stops himself from reaching the point of release. "Wider, baby," he pleads. "Nice and wide for me."

Pulling your knees apart, you display yourself like a fuckin' exhibition, and Jeongguk knows that you've art for him, indefinitely. Nights at galleries are pale in comparison to the way you put yourself on display for him.

How could he ever appreciate a painting unless it's the same pretty colours of your needy cunt? If the brush strokes don't match the hair that falls over your eyes as your lips part, soft moans escaping them? Music, too, for that matter is ruined for him. You sound better than anything he's ever heard on the radio.

"There you go," he husks as he begins to work the fleshlight up his shaft again. Watches you with no intent of ever looking away. He's fixed to you like glue. "That's it. Fuck. Yeah. That's it."

But you won't be content until he really is stuck to you like glue. Want him so close it's impossible to tell when he ends and you begin; impossible to comprehend how you ever could part.

He's not the only one with demands. Desires. You want him just as much as he wants you.

"Come closer," you say quietly.

"Yeah?" he teases. "Say please, baby."

"Fuck you."

He laughs, now. Finds something about your insatiable need to have him near, and your inability to play nicely at times, just so endearing.

"Cute," he smirks. Knows it'll probably irritate you. Patronises a little more, 'cause he's vying for you to have a reason to shut him up. Thinks maybe you'll choose kisses as a way to shush him. Hopes you will. "Needy, aren't you? Pretty, needy baby."

"Shut up," you laugh, the smile on your lips a product of his compliments, even if he is being a little bitch. Holding your hand out, you encourage him to join you on the bed. Give him what he wants, 'cause you know it'll give you what you want. " Please ."

You don't take your eyes off him as he stands, cock still snug in the toy that he'd really rather swap with your hands. Makes him a little shy.

"Stop looking at me, perv," Jeongguk says in a childish way that really doesn't fit the profile of a man like him - built like a god - as he's pleasuring himself for you for your satisfaction.

"Why?" you ask, pleased and purry now that the ball is in your court. "A little shy, there?"

"Fuck you," he smirks, coming to sit between your legs.

Your illicit thoughts of Jeongguk are always so much tamer than he actually is. You never know what's actually gonna come out of his mouth, and it makes fucking him so much more fun to indulge in.

It's not like he means to be vulgar. His brain is just too distracted by how fucking good this shit feels. His lips get loose and so does the concept of dignity. Has him mumbling all kinds of shit.

"God, I'll fuckin' die if you don't let me fuck you," he whines, one of his hands stroking up your thigh while the other wanks the toy up and down his thick cock. He's slow in his movements, wrist flicking gently, not wanting to himself up too much. Wants you to get there first.

Shaking your head, you knead one of your tits for his viewing pleasure as you continue to fuck yourself with the toy he insisted you bring.

"Told me to bring this for a reason, Gguk," you remind him. "No fucking."

"But you're so fucking wet," he moans. Wants to touch you. Know he can't.

You nod - then decide to cut him a little slack. Reach for the hand of his on your thigh. Bring it to the base of the rabbit, and let him take the reins.

"Fuck," he curses, as he pushes it up into you. Holds it in place. Flicks the switch that makes the little rabbit ears vibrate. Angles it just right so that they're fluttering against your swollen clit, the pleasure incomparable to anything else.

"Oh, shit," you whine as your body begins to writhe.

"You like this so much, don't you?" He confirms, and is pleased when you whine and nod your head. He pulls the toy back slightly, but angles it so that ears stay pressed against you before he fills you again. The lewd sound of it filling you is enough to drive anyone insane, he thinks.

"Pretty cunt," he says fondly, then leans forward a little. Gathers spit in his mouth, then slowly lets it drip onto your pussy. He knows you well. Has it landing just north of your clit. Grinds the ears up a little, and spreads it across your already messy pussy. "Pretty girl."

Gently fucking the dildo into you, Jeongguk can't help but feel a little jealous. He wants to know how you feel. How warm you are. How tight you'll get when you cum.

Instead, all he can do is watch as pleasure takes hold. You whine his name - "Yeah, baby?" - and push your head back into the pillows. Toes pointing, your legs begin to shake, and Jeongguk knows better than to change anything about what he's doing. Keeps the speed. Lets the ears flick against the clit that he so badly wants in his mouth.

"That's it," he keens. "All over this cock. Cum all over it."

Oh, how you wish it was his instead.

Because even though you do come, it doesn't satisfy you fully. Not how his cock does. Still amazing - but Jeongguk has ruined you. Is the only thing capable of making you cum how you deserve to cum. His cock, his mouth, his hands - doesn't matter what. Just matters that it's him.

Tapping his wrist as you shake a little, you tell him you're good. In all honesty, all you want now is to make him feel good.

Shutting off the vibrations, Jeongguk keeps you plugged. Is scared that you'll both let your stupid desires get the better of you, otherwise.

You're thinking the exact same thing - so reach down for his fleshlight. Want him to feel as good as you he made you feel.

Holding it flush against the mound of your pussy, you'll give him the next best thing to fucking you. A little simulation, almost. Basically the exact same.

Except it's not, 'cause Jeongguk is far too aware of the fact that he doesn't get the luxury of your cunt.

"Fuck it," you instruct him. "Fuck it like you fuck me."

There's something erotic about the way Jeongguk lines himself up with it at your request. Zero hesitation. Wanks himself, once, twice. Presses his tip against the tight entrance, and looks at you as he pushes into it. Grunts. Fills it. Begins to thrust a little. Picks a rhythm. Finds the position is perfect for letting his balls slap against your swollen clit, and is obsessed with the way you whine for him.

With you holding his toy in place, his hands are free - so they snake around your thighs and pull you closer with every thrust of his hips, as if he really is fucking you.

"Is it good?"

"Yeah. It's fuckin' good," he nods, leaning forward, resting an elbow on either side of your head as he continues to pump into the toy. "You're better, but it's good."

There's a simplicity to the way Jeongguk describes how he feels. It's straightforward. Honest.

"Pretend it's me," you encourage. "Is it tight? Wet?"

He nods. Practically filled the thing with lube before he ventured up to your room.

"Real fuckin' tight. You're wetter, though. I miss that. Fuck . Just once, baby. Once ," he begs, forgetting the fact that he very much knows fucking you is a bad idea. Presses wet, insatiable kisses to the underside of your jaw. Can barely string his words together. "Let me - fuck - feel you. Please ."

Funny, how his fear of rejection doesn't seem to exist when he's a few strokes away from an orgasm.

Or maybe it just doesn't exist around you. Either or. At the moment, they're one and the same.

Shaking your head, you pull him in for a soft meeting of your lips, his tongue sinking into your mouth, because he needs to be inside you in at least some capacity if he can't have your pussy. Hips thrashing in a bid to chase his high, Jeongguk knows you're not gonna give him what he wants. Knows that this is the closest he'll get.

Plausible deniability when your friends - or moreso just Jimin - ask, did you fuck?

Well, no, you'll be able to say, without lying. We didn't.

But as your body is moved in tandem with the timing of his thrusts, Jeongguk's grunts vibrate into your mouth as his body begins to tense, you know that you can't really describe this as anything other than fucking.

"Cum," you tell him - and then realise you still want it to be you he cums over. Cums for. Cums because of.

But Jeongguk takes that permission and runs with it before you can make any further bad decisions. Whimpers as he lets the walls that have been keeping him restrained come crashing down. His teeth find your neck as he grunts against your skin; his breath hot, the cum he's unloading in the silicone fuck toy even more so.

"That's it," you encourage, legs wrapping around his stuttering hips. "Fill that cunt for me, baby. Fill it up like it's mine."

He nods, his laboured breaths lost in your hair as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, as the final few spurts of his desire pump into the toy. The weight of his body is heavy on top of you, rising and falling with every contraction of his lungs.

Stroking his hair, you press a kiss to the top of his hair, and let out a soft giggle. It's too soon for post-nut clarity, and yet Jeongguk already doesn't wanna look you in the eyes after nutting in a fucking fleshlight.

Figuring as much, you make sure to praise him in the same way he usually does for you. "So hot, Gguk. So good. So cute ."

He smiles, now. Laughs a little, body spent. Grumbles into your neck. "Fuck off, B."

"What?" you tease, knowing that he's embarrassed. He needn't be. It's just a sex toy. He's the one who brought it along with him - surely he didn't think you'd have enough willpower to resist him over the weekend? Surely he had been anticipating this? "It's yours . We both know you've fucked it, like, a hundred times."

"Fuck offffff," he moans again, rolling off of you, the fleshlight slipping somewhere between you both now that no one is keeping it held in place. "That never happened."

Turning onto your front, you scoff. Reach down the bed to find the offending object. You want it for a reason - mainly 'cause you've never seen them up close, and are curious about how much it actually looks like a pussy, but also 'cause you have an idea that will make Jeongguk equal parts needy and disgusted, which honestly is what you're aiming for. You like it when he's conflicted over his desire. Makes his self-denial and subsequent weaknesses so much hotter.

"Put it down," he whines, as you bring it to the pillows. His forearm is covering his eyes, a pretty smile on his darling lips, piercing catching in the jetty lights that are intruding on your privacy.

You don't do what he tells you to do. Instead, you rest on your elbows, tits cushioning your body as you inspect it a little.

"Huh," you hum in surprise. Admittedly, it's not too far off. The silicone tube is clear, with ridges and grooves in the central canal for his pleasure, but the entrance is particularly inspired. Despite the clarity of the material, the shape isn't too far off from your own, especially when it's all pretty and puffy and aroused for him. There's a sheen to it; evidence of Jeongguk's lube, as a trail of his white cum leaks from the entrance.

Glancing over to him, you find his eyes on you. A little further up in the bed, he's looking down, and yet you're in the position of power. Whatever you do will only serve to make him want you more.

He doesn't tell you to put it down again. Just waits, breathlessly, to see what you'll do. Already has an idea. Knows what he wants to see, but won't ask for it 'cause it feels almost too vulgar.

But you know him well. Knows what gets him off. Know that even despite the fact he's just finished, there are ways to get him hard again - and as your tongue slowly flicks against the desecrated entrance, you know that this is one of them.

"Fuck," he husks quietly, not even meaning to do so. Lets one of his hands reach over to squeeze at the flesh of your ass as you get a little deeper with your exploration. Lick into it. Collect his cum on your tongue.

It's been a while since you've eaten pussy, too busy with Jeongguk to seek anyone else out, but it's like riding a bike. You never forget - and truth be told, you're not really doing anything that requires too much thought. You're putting on a show. Eating his cum, 'cause he deserves it.

His grip on your ass is hard, as he grunts, "You're fucking filth, b. So dirty ."

You giggle, pleased with the effect it's having on him - but then he's pulling you across to straddle his lap, toy discarded on your side of the bed as man handles you into position on top of his body.

Jeongguk pulls you in for a meeting of lips, teeth, tongue; all-consuming. Doesn't care to be neat. Doesn't care to be sweet. Wants to taste himself on your tongue - and when he does? Oh, he's celestial .

He moans. Curses. Accepts it when you hold his jaw, and encourage him to open his mouth. Nods as your lips purse. Lets his tongue flatten. Whines as you spit his cum onto his tongue - then decides you've had enough time in the driver's seat. Sinks his tongue back into your mouth; swaps his cum with you until it sort of just becomes obsolete.

He's not gonna fuck you, but he does get you positioned on top of his cock, pussy spread over his thick length as he ruts up against you. One hand on your hips, the other clasps your hands behind your back. Looks you dead in the eye as you whine for him.

Husks, "You're only in control when I let you be in control."

And then to prove his point, he gets you grinding against him until the point of another climax. Gets your body shaking as your pussy rubs over the top of his cock, without it ever penetrating you. The sensation is euphoric; skin on skin, just how you like it.

"That's it," he praises as your orgasm washes over you. Holds you as you come down a little breathlessly. Teases. "So cute. You love to cum for me, don't you, B?"

It's your turn to tell him to fuck off, now.

Rolling off him, both toys fall from your side of the bed and onto the floor with a soft thud. Neither of you cares for the noise. Jimin is out like a light, and Nabi is too far away to have really heard anything.

Breathlessly, you both look up at the ceiling. Jeongguk swears he can see stars - but it might just be the hangover that's already kicking in.

As he holds his hand out, you laugh. Give him a high five. "Nice work."

But you both agree that it never happened. Snuggle up, and adamantly stand by the fact you never fucked. That technicality is still true. You also didn't both become all weak and needy for each other in the most pathetic of ways - or so you tell yourselves.

"We're super drunk," Jeongguk mumbles into your hair, as if you aren't both totally sober after that. Hugs you close to him, your back pressed to his chest. Doesn't even consider return to his room. He's home, now. Would make no sense to leave. "Won't even remember it in the morning."

And the way that you behave together come sunlight, without a care in the world, laughing and joking, both together and at each other's expense, it would seem like things are totally normal.

You're able to separate who you are after dark and the people you are during the sunlight hours. Can look at him, without feeling the need to jump his bones (although when you see him cooking breakfast, your eyes do linger for a little too long on the veins in his arms as he flicks the pan).

None of your friends are aware of your illicit affairs; how Jeongguk worships your body like a devout follower of a religion only he knows.

None of them... and also all of them.

They all see the way he looks at you first when he makes a joke to check that you're laughing. They're all aware of the way you ask him what he's gonna be wearing that morning when deciding what you're also gonna wear. Small, inconsequential encounters that are exclusive between the pair of you, never to be shared with anyone else.

Well, almost no one.

"Is it just me, or did you-" Nabi begins, eyes on the pair of you as she neatens up the sitting room with Jimin, but is almost instantly interrupted.

"Yep."

"Last ni-"

"Yep."

"They-"

"Yep."

Turning up her nose, she shudders a little. "Gross."

"Yep," Jimin nods. Thought he'd escaped ever hearing you and Jeongguk at it, but woke up needing water in the night. Ended up needing a punch to the face five minutes later when he realised the squeak of the floorboards wasn't from him walking around, but from your bedroom instead. Heard things in the minutes that followed that'll his nightmares forever .

"Are they, like... a thing?" she tries to clarify, but Jimin knows no more than anyone else.

"No one knows. Don't even think they know."

Which is true.

But you're currently looking at Jeongguk's big brown Bambi eyes while he explains the rules of boxing to you out on the front lawn. He wraps up your hands to 'train' you, and you giggle as he jokes with you about how you'll be a champ in no time, a stupidly love-drunk smile on your lips.

Quite unexpectedly - though not really at all, when you think about it - you realise you know .

You know, you know, you know.

How you feel; how much you really do like him; how you want things to be.

You just know.

Simply, and completely; Jeongguk can never be just a friend. Not now. Not anymore.

And it terrifies you.

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

Next ->

“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them. 

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room. 

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day. 

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming. 

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing. 

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing. 

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.” 

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford. 

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real. 

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her. 

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.” 

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part. 

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time. 

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.  

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer. 

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?” 

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them. 

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.” 

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?” 

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.” 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.” 

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?” 

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?” 

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.” 

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it. 

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart. 

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party. 

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable. 

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.” 

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.” 

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.” 

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.” 

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.” 

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name. 

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling. 

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well. 

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.” 

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.” 

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.” 

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.” 

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.” 

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I love you, Lids.” 

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep. 

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).” 

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation. 

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.” 

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father. 

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.” 

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone. 

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice. 

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

“I love you too, dad,” she cried. 

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.” 

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it. 

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.” 

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either. 

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect. 

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control. 

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore. 

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.” 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch. 

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.” 

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.” 

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.” 

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.” 

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.” 

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.” 

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future. 

Next ->

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[thatoneweirdowhoknowstoomuch]

Where's Waldo Headcanons

(Srry it took so long, I wanted to be sure my posting wouldn't be in vain, lmao. Also, be warned as I incorporate a ton of the 2019 series)

First off-

Waldo Waldini:

•》General《•

* His full name is Waldo W******* Waldini, but he simply goes by "Wally" for convenience sake (plus it adds an "e" sound, which makes one smile)

* His first name was his middle name pre-transition, named after his late father (barely brings this up, tough subject)

* Transmasc. He has a ton of ironic chest binders (think Thomas Jefferson and the Hastune Miku Binder)

* 100% on the spectrum, change my mind

•》Background《•

* His mom and dad were both vets... well, a veterinarian and a veteran, respectively.

* Mostly raised by his Mom as his father was "no longer with us" when her baby girl (pre-transition Wally)

* Even then, his mother couldn't be around much with her job, so he was most of the time alone or with friends. When Mama Waldini could hang out with her daughter, she'd always make up for it in souvenirs and day outs with her.

* Due to being on the spectrum, he had some problems both in making friends and staying out of trouble. Certainly not stupid by any means, much rather the opposite, and definitely not a troublemaker on purpose. Most of his antic includes

- Bringing animals to the classroom for show and tell

- Bringing dangerous machinery (her inventions, which tend to break, go rogue, or explode)

- Traumatizing the whole school during a school play that one time (she took his role a bit too seriously and made the fake stabbing a bit gorey)

(2019 spoilers Ahead!)

- Because of his "antics" and the fact Mama Waldini couldn't be around much with her job, she was the one to introduce Wally to the Wanders' Society, an association she assumed would benefit her little adventurer in the long run like it had with her (she was raised by Whitebeard until she was able to sustain herself and get married)

- She was so ecstatic when she found out that her little adventurer was thriving and that he made new friends (Wenda).

- Despite her happiness and the fact she wished she could see her little girl, she was always way too busy, busier than normal. She felt terrible about this, but there was nothing she could do in her eyes. A few days before Christmas during work, she was tasked with helping a white mutt, and it's four puppies. The mother didn'tmake it, her pups now orphaned. So she gives one of the pups to Whitebeard, requesting that he would give it to her little girl as a Christmas present.

- By the time she could see her little girl, Wally was transitioning; binder, shorter hair, boyish clothes, a whole makeover on his end. She was confused if not taken aback when her little girl insisted on being called her son and that her little girl changed her name to her middle name. However, with Whitebeard's help and Wally's corrections, she got used to it. But it doesn't really stop her from putting hair extensions and ribbons on him to not cause fuss with her husband's side of the family.

- When Wally got older and finally passed Wanders' Society, he went on to travel the world for quite a while, promising to be back with Mama when he's seen enough. However, during his travels, Mama Waldini falls ill, causing her to be moved to a nursing home and bedridden. While her falling sick was a coincidence, Waldo can't really bring himself to forgive for not being there when it happened.

•》Misc.《•

- His current home was once an abandoned theather, renovated with the help of Wenda.

- Due to the last time he traveled abroad, he has a bit of a fear of leaving close people behind for too long. However, Wenda and Whitebeard assure him that nothing bad will happen.

-Owns a ton of clothes/cloth items with his iconic stripes. He has tried other patterns and clothes but wasn't a huge fan.

- Not really picky or touch sensitive, but hates slimy/squishy textures

- One time when Waldo and Wenda slept over at his place, he tried making breakfast in bed for Wenda. However, it went horribly, horribly wrong -

Wenda: Hey, at least you're better than my cousin

*takes a sip*

Wenda: Hey, this is some really good tea -

Waldo: Coffee

Wenda: Wut

Waldo: It was supposed to be c-coffee

- In his trying different clothing era, he ended up buying a red pinstripe suit. Rarely wears it , excusing it as "saving it for Wenda"

- His special interests are traveling (of course), robotics, and miscellaneous fun facts

Wow.. this was waaaay too long. I'll make separate posts for the characters from now on. The next character is Odlaw!

[whumpbug]

Hello Bug!! So I wrote a little fanfic about your boys Simon and Archie. I'm the one who sent you the prompt about Archie having a minor injury and showing up at Simon's apartment and ending up taking care of him, but I thought what you wrote was too perfect to add onto so I did something kind of different. I wrote something taking place during the two days Archie was in the hospital after his #1 Worst Injury. I also took the creative liberty of making it December 24th because why not

I don't know if either of your guys are actually Christian or celebrate Christmas but I still wanted to write a Christmas special because. wholesomeness

okay okay here it is I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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

It was almost midnight. The only sounds were Archie’s labored rasps of breath and the heart monitor beeping steadily. The lights were dim, and the window had frosted over from the snow. Simon held his warm hand in both of his.

He reminded himself that he wasn’t to blame. He had to keep doing that, whenever his thoughts turned against him. He couldn’t have known what would happen, and there was no way he could’ve gotten there faster while still driving safely.

Still. It hurt. The image of Archie’s chest drenched in blood was something he’d never forget. He couldn’t have saved him on his own, so he had to take him here. Break his promise. And he hated that.

It couldn’t have been a worse time, either. He wanted to spend Christmas with Archie, but not like this.

Three soft knocks at the door. Probably a nurse, sent to check in on things. Simon forced himself to take a deep breath to keep his voice steady and called, “come in.”

His eyes widened when he saw a nurse, yes — but also four patients. All children. A dark-skinned teenage girl in a wheelchair held a large red box in her lap, wrapped with a green bow. A little redheaded kid — no more than five — had a handful of lollipops in the palm that wasn’t set in a sling. A boy on crutches with a dimpled smile and long braids was holding a book. A small girl with hazel eyes hugging a teddy bear was wearing a mask, probably due to a contagious respiratory illness. The nurse carried a pan of cookies.

For a beat, none of them said a word. Then the teen girl pushed herself forward and cleared her throat. “Hi. Is… is that really Vigil?”

Simon was stunned. He nodded.

“He saved me a-about a year ago. My name’s Natalie, but, um… back then, I was still going by Nathan. Did, did he mention me?” She asked quietly, curling a strand of her hair on her finger.

It took a minute, but Simon did recall — last summer. “He mentioned a Nathan,” he said. “Car crash. Right?”

She looked timidly off to the side. “Uh, yeah. We talked a little after. And he made sure all of us got home safe, so… so I thought it’d be nice to…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I mean, it wasn’t just my idea. Everyone helped.”

The nurse smiled down at the girl — Natalie — then looked back up to Simon. “We wanted to bring Christmas to Vigil. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.”

Before Simon could respond, the redhead with the lollipops piped up, “these are for both of you!”

She ran to Simon with little thumping footsteps and offered them to him. “When he wakes up, I want you to tell him they’re from Emily and that he’ll be all better real soon!”

Simon didn’t smile, but his eyes shone. He reluctantly moved one of his hands away from Archie’s to take the lollipops and place them down on the nightstand. “Thank you, Emily,” he said.

“I’m not Emily, silly! That’s my grandma. He saved her one time from bad guys. She says to give him her ‘best wishes.’ My name’s Quinn.”

“Thank both of you, then,” Simon corrected. Eyeing her arm in a cast, he added, “you’ll be better soon too, Quinn.”

That got her to smile. The boy was next in line, limping up next to Quinn. He held out a quivering hand holding a worn cover of a novel. Simon took it and peered at the title. The Journey to Planet 56, by Emilia Robinson. Science fiction, space adventure. Alright, now Simon was smiling — this kid really had Archie pegged.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” The kid prodded, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Trust me, he’ll love it.”

“Say it’s from Cuauhtemoc,” he instructed. “Um, that’s me. Temo for short. That’s my very very favorite book. And I want him to have it, because he got my brother out of an icy lake. Tell him get well soon.”

“I will,” assured Simon. He set down the book next to the lollipops.

The little girl with the mask on was next. She held out the teddy, which Simon noticed was a somewhat realistic model of a fuzzy black bear. Simon took it gently. “Thanks,” he told her quietly, moving to place it gently on top of Archie, but she frantically shook her head and started signing something. He paused, puzzled. “What…”

“That’s American Sign Language,” the nurse explained. “I can’t see what she’s saying from behind, but earlier she told me she wanted the teddy bear to be for you. Her name’s Esperanza.”

Simon blinked. Slowly, he pulled the teddy bear back and looked at it. It felt soft and warm in his hands. “For me?”

The nurse handed the cookie tray to Natalie for a minute to tap the kid with the mask on the shoulder. He signed something to her — probably translating what Simon said — and she nodded to him.

She signed something else, and the nurse interpreted, “you deserve something nice too. For saving our Vigil, you are a real hero.”

Simon was speechless. A hero. Since he’d failed to save Archie on his own, that was the last thing he dared think of himself as. The thought made his eyes sting and blur with the threat of tears. He took a deep breath to keep himself from crying, because he refused to — at least until all the kids were done visiting. He looked up at the nurse. “You know ASL?”

“My mother is Deaf, so it’s actually my first language,” he affirmed. “You want to say something?”

“Tell her… thank you.”

“Tell her yourself. It’s like this,” he said, pressing his fingers to his chin and then holding it outwards with a flat palm. Simon looked back to Esperanza and mimicked the motion as best as he could. Her mouth was concealed by the mask, but joy bloomed in her eyes. It reminded Simon a little of Archie — the way his smile lit up his whole face.

Natalie handed the cookie tray back to the nurse and wheeled closer to Simon. The other kids moved out of the way. She picked up the box in her lap and showed it off to Simon. “Do you… want to do the honors?” She asked quietly.

Simon considered it, but eventually shook his head. “Vigil should. It’s his gift, after all.”

“Okay,” she said. “I hope he likes it. We all pitched in to get it for him…”

“I’m sure he will,” Simon assured. He took the box from her and set it down gently on the floor. It was surprisingly heavy. He wondered what it was.

“And last but not least,” the nurse said, holding up the cookies. “These are for everyone!”

A chorus of cheers broke out among the children.

It was past midnight by this point, certainly. Christmas. And now, it kind of felt like it.

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

So uhh what do you think? I usually write in present-tense but past-tense seemed right for this story

Also you get complete creative freedom about the ending. Do you think Archie woke up for cookies or did he get some a few hours after everyone left? If he woke up while everyone was still there, what did he say to them? What did they say to him?

And if he woke up after everyone except Simon was already gone (probably to their rooms because it is way past all of those kids' bedtimes), what did Simon tell Archie about the visit he missed and all the gifts he got?

Thank you so much for the go-ahead on fanfics Bug!! This was so much fun

also yes I made up the title and author of the book. I would've used a real one but sadly I am not in possession of any sci-fi adventure books

anon. anon i need you to listen to me. [grabs u by the shoulders]

when i say i cried real tears while reading this, i am not exaggerating at ALL.

THIS IS THE SWEETEST, WARMEST MOST WHOLESOME FIC I HAVE EVER READ AND I GENUINELY TEARED UP. im sorry it took me so long to reply i reread it like 10 times already. i LOVE it. SO. MUCH. everything, EVERYTHING about this fic was perfect but i'm going to talk about some of the highlights under the cut and then answer what i think the ending would be

HERE WE GO!

✮⋆˙

okay right away i just want to say anon??? your writing style is SO so so good???? like i was captivated the ENTIRE time

simon blaming himself is so painfully in character. like no simon you are not a bad person because you couldn't literally teleport to archie's location take a deep breath

ALSO THIS BEING A CHRISTMAS FIC MADE MY HEART SO SO SO HAPPY UGH

the thought you put into all the other patients??? the care?? god i don't know how you managed but i'm now attached to all of these kids they're so precious

NATALIE IS SO SWEET and i love the headcanon (well now its canon) of archie telling simon about all of the people he saves and simon remembering them

quinn is SO silly. also is this a reference to the little old lady he had saved in the hypothermia fic??

same with temo is his brother the kid that i made nearly drown in that fic? (sorry temo's brother)

EITHER WAY I LOVE IT AND ALSO TEMO GETTING ARCHIE A SCI-FI BOOK???? MY HEART. MY HEART IS EXPLODING. ANON YOUR ATTENTION TO DETAIL

GOD and little esperanza remembering simon. i want you to know that after those kids left simon sobbed. the wholesomeness was too much for him.

also anon i am so curious. WHAT is the box. this is my personal pandora's box im so so curious

GOD i just love everything about this. you made every single character in this so so so loveable and real and human and it just made me so so so happy. i hope you know my day, year, LIFE, has been MADE. thank you so so SO much

what do i think happens next?

okay anon i honestly think i might even write a little drabble for what happens next because i'm OBSESSED with this scenario, but i'm not going to put it here so the post doesn't get too long. but keep an eye out for that because this scenario is SO perfect.

essentially, i don't think archie would wake up while the kids were there. i think he'd probably stay mostly asleep, what with how drugged up he is.. BUT when he wakes up the next morning and simon tells him about what happened and where all these gifts came from, i think archie would start bawling.

like i think archie would be so touched and happy that it would just come out in a burst of tears and simon would probably join him because 1) he is equally as touched and 2) that man is sleep-deprived and emotional because of it.

the two would have a little tiny christmas morning celebration, they'd watch TV together, archie would read his book, but i think simon would probably fall asleep on accident later in the evening.

which gives archie the perfect oppurtunity to sneak out of his bed and go around thanking each of the kids. (simon would have stopped him if he was awake because. yknow. archie is still recovering from a bullet wound. but. archie is just sneaky like that.)

WELL ANYWAYS, thats what would happen in my mind. archie would find some way to thank them. he'd be too grateful not to.

✮⋆˙

okay real talk. anon thank you so so so much. since i was little, i dreamed of the day people would actually Care about little ocs and characters i made and it means SO much to me that you and other people like them. thank you SO SO SO much for writing this and as always, if you ever write more for them, know that i will be EQUALLY as thrilled. this is definitely a highlight of my YEAR. thank you thank you thank you!!!

[deusexlachina]

Cheeseaged Exocolonist Age 18: Use my compassion and mental health literacy to set up a coup and crush my enemies

In which we fill the hole in our friends' lives with logs and eggs, use ill-fitting clothes to convince my people to make me their queen, and thwart an alien invasion by being the world's best barista.

CW for discussion of domestic abuse.

Having done most of the work needed to get a perfect ending, you'd think year 18 would go by pretty quickly. However, I now have the power to give gifts every month instead of once per season, and with great gift power comes great gift responsibility. After all, we're nearing the end of the game. I deliver a gift to every single friendable character each month. So I will dedicate this log to my friends. The virtual ones.

Nomi is self-conscious about being an artist and asks what I want to be when I grow up. I give the same answer I have given everyone else: I want to be in charge.

I've been throwing cakes at Vace, in hopes that his terrible attitude is caused by low blood sugar. Vace sees that I've been grinding friendship with his girlfriend, and he doesn't want any grinding going on with his girlfriend. He threatens me, telling me not to make him worry about me hanging out with his girlfriend.

I reassure him there's nothing to worry about, then immediately go talk to Nem and tell her to break up with him. Telling people they are in an abusive relationships is always a hard conversation, but she's ready to have it now because I have fought valiantly by her side, heroically tried to save her brother, but mainly because I have given her dozens of eggs over the course of this run. I use my teenage drug-slinging psychotherapist skills to diagnose Vace with being a dick.

Because I have high friendship with Vace, I get him to open up about his problems, discovering that his girlfriend suddenly broke up with him. Rallying all my baristastic expertise and courage, I suggest this is because he's an abusive dickhole. Vace does not put two and two together and realize that I tanked his relationship, so we can keep befriending him in our cynical ploy to manipulate him into becoming a better person, like a blue-haired Christmas Wraith.

After these therapeutic successes, I have a therapy date with Tangent. She asks for extra-strength blep tea, which I do not give to her because that will Help Tangent. Recall that even one Helped Tangent will trip the flag for the Engineered Plague. This girl is a cup of very strong tea away from wiping out all non-terran life on the planet. I love her.

I start getting people to 100 Friendship. Marz tells me about her plan to overthrow Lum, and I promise to keep her on her toes.

I decide the best way to keep her on her toes is by running as her opposition. This requires 50 Persuasion, which I have from equipping the Emojiproji (+10 to social skills), the Brain Trainer (+15 to everything) and, in a real stab in the back, Marzipan's second-hand jacket (+20 Persuasion). This is such an audacious Ides of March that Marzipan can't help but be impressed.

It also requires you to have consistently shown opposition to the existing authority, to the tune of 70 Rebellion. This is why I have been talking back to my mom so much. Now it's time to confront her. I spend the month farming, solely because the other Geoponics jobs will all give me events that will override the event where I meet my mom. I explain to my mom that I'm not a bad kid, I was just grinding Rebellion to go for the golden ending. She finally understands and promises me her full support in overthrowing Lum.

Immediately after this, I get an event where I have to save Socks from being put down, because this event happens in Geoponics starting in year 17 and, since saving her the first time, I've put off working in Geoponics for so long that the game has gotten impatient with me.

The same month, I use my baristatherapist skills to talk down Dys from planting a bomb on our walls as part of a deal he made to become an alien and live happily ever after with his alien boyfriend Sym. This is a very strange deal that gets even stranger when you learn that he made this deal with Nocticulent, not Sym.

Having gotten my mom's approval for the first time in my eighteen years, I then move on to recruit Seeq, the administrator. They agree that Lum needs to be deposed, but, showing no solidarity with their fellow trans person, demand a bribe in the form of kudos. To make clear how utterly preposterous this is, we are living in a mostly communistic society, where kudos are the currency given by adults to children for good deeds, spendable exclusively on luxury items in the Supply Depot, which Seeq is in charge of.

Because I saved Eudicot's life, she shows up to rebuke Seeq, making them the first person in this planet's history to attempt to bribe themselves and fail. This is good because I have spent all my money on overpriced accessibility devices, spa days and plying Vace with baked goods.

I then recruit Rhett by reminding him of how Lum nearly got some of us killed in a stunt to look cool, and Instance with a persuasion check.

At the end of the year, the enemy is ominously waiting just outside our walls. We know from past lives that they're waiting for Dys to blow up the bomb, not realizing that I have turned him to good with the power of coffee and medicinal roots. For their trouble, they get Socks sicced on them.

In the final year, because of my talks with Sym, the Gardeners will negotiate peace with humanity. I like to think that has something to do with them just having suffered the most embarrassing defeat in the history of their war with humanity. And I owe it all to being a barista.

[dulcewrites]

adding more to the idea of modern!fmo reader and aemond: aemond is jealous af of the relationship his gf got with his brother and her boy bff (ser quinton my sweet lil meow meow) while simultaneously being the one that’s actually cheating😃

Ok now I’m just gonna do headcanons for modern!fmo bc I’m bored and love the idea (sorry this is long 😭)

-reader and Aemond meet through their moms rather through reader befriending Helaena (let’s say Alicent and reader’s mom are Pilates babes and go to the same studio)

-reader’s mom gushes about how her daughter goes to [insert rich people school], and Alicent is like shut up! one of my boys goes there (meanwhile reader’s mom knows this bc she religiously stalks Alicent’s Facebook)

- Aemond is a English major, with a minor in marketing, reader is studying biochemistry with a focus on plants/plant reproduction.

- they meet at a party Alicent throws for helaena getting her masters or something like that

- the first year of their relationship actually goes well. It’s basically the honeymoon phase, and both their moms think they are geniuses for making this happen

- in this universe, reader knows alys exist from the jump. And she’s like “oh your bestie is a pretty older woman yay 😃😃😃”

-reader is certain something is going on, but Aemond gaslights and lies to her. It isn’t until she finds some ummm.. intimate garments that she knows she does not wear. She’s almost positive alys left them on purpose. This is break up number one

-Aegon and reader become close after aemond, ever the coward, sends his brother to get back some of his stuff. They bond over liking the same obscure rock band

- funnily enough, quinton and reader meet through Helaena in this universe. The entomology major (hel) and the geology major (quinton) work closely at their school

-Aemond and reader get back together at a Christmas party. Aemond promises he’s not even in contact with alys anymore (another lie).

-quinton can’t stand Aemond. Thinks he’s so pretentious with the hair and the poetry (yes he writes it for reader). Aemond thinks quinton is just kind of stupid lmao

-Aegon is the one to tell reader that he def is still fooling around with alys again. Second break up

-this causes a bit of tension between Aegon and aemond.

-reader is certain she is done with Aemond. Then she finds out she’s pregnant :/. She honestly goes back and forth between keeping the baby

-eventually she breaks down and tells him bc she’s scared. Aemond, despite reader’s wishes, tells his mom. He’s scared too :(. Alicent, our queen, is like I’ll take you to the clinic if you want 🤷🏽‍♀️. She loves her kids but she had Aegon young and gets it’s not for everyone

-in the end, reader decides to keep the baby. Daella Targaryen is born 9 months later. Aemond and reader have a very beautiful, expensive sort of shotgun wedding. They have it when daella is a little over a year

-quinton, very drunk, confesses his love for reader in a voicemail she gets during her bachelorette party. Things get awkward for them after that :(

- things are actually kind of good considering the circumstances. They’re young but they also have way more resources than people in their peer group. By this point, reader is working part time at a laboratory trying to cure different illness through plants. Aemond works for his dad’s company

-eventually Aemond convinces reader to stay home with daella. Hints at maybe wanting another baby

- everything is fine, till reader finds texts. She’s not one to snoop but she sees heart emojis and is like “since when does my husband use emojis”. Texts going to and from a “A ❤️”.

-she starts to wonder if all those work trips are actually for work.

-reader takes daella while Aemond is away one weekend. They visit Aegon or uncle egg to daella. Aegon, a practicing defense attorney, is like “babe I can get you a good family divorce lawyer. We will milk him for everything.” 😭😭

- reader hires a p.I immediately, gets all the proof she needs. Pictures, calls, emails. This has started back up since daella was born.

-things get really messy when their half sister, Rhaenyra wants to do a merger deal with another company and their family one. As viserys declines in health, there becomes a struggle for power between Aemond and nyra

-Aemond begs reader to hold off on the divorce till they handle things. She agrees but they start to live in different houses. She plays the waiting game… but through all this craziness she realizes she hasn’t had her period

-alaric targaryen is born, and reader struggles with ppd. She feels a bit trapped. Her parents are telling her to stick through it and give Aemond another chance

-in the end, they end up separating for some time. They coparent, and things are pretty tense. Reader tells Aemond that alys is not allowed to be anywhere her kids or she will go back to get sole custody.

-one of the weekends they are doing a swap, Aemond breaks down and tells her that alys cheated on him. He actually apologizes and for a moment reader thinks that door is still open

-BUT.. she gets an text from a number she doesn’t recognize

Hey it’s quinton. Long time no talk. I was thinking we could get coffee the next time you are in town x

[twistthesinews-writes]

Next to Normal fic

Natalie has fully taken over my brain, guys. I can't stop thinking about this show and I can't stop thinking about this character. I want to know what happens as she moves into adulthood, how she deals with everything, how her relationship with her parents evolves, what her relationship with her own mental health is. She has so much to work through. I don't know if I'll continue this, but for now here's a little snippet of her first Christmas break at college.

It’s her freshman year at Yale and she hasn’t gone home for Christmas. She’d made noises about having too much schoolwork, needing to study up in anticipation of what was sure to be a brutal spring semester, had said it was a long way to travel anyway. The truth was that she was finally, finally out of there and she refused to relinquish her newfound freedom. She was allowed to be selfish, she reasoned. Her parents could handle themselves for a change. She would do what she wanted, no matter how painfully the loneliness bit.

And now she’s here. Alone, in her dorm room, on Christmas Eve. She and Henry had talked on the phone earlier, and he’d promised to call again on Christmas Day, but it would be another ten hours at least until then. The wreath she’d bought in an ill-advised attempt to brighten up her first Christmas away from home is mocking her from where it hangs in the window. The window itself is mocking her. It can only be cracked open, barely wide enough to fit a hand through – she knows it’s to make sure no one can jump out of it. She’s away from home and still surrounded by mocking attempts to prevent suicide. It disgusts her. She can’t put her finger on why, exactly – not that she’s tried very hard – but these ridiculous gestures infuriate her. Like a window that doesn’t open is going to keep someone from killing themselves, if they really want to. If there’s one thing she knows, it’s that someone who really wants to commit suicide will always find a way to try. And in the meantime, she has to deal with a room that’s basically impossible to air out.

As she watches, the microwave clock beneath the window clicks silently over to midnight. Merry fucking Christmas. She glares up at the ceiling and tells herself she doesn’t care. She didn’t want to be home for Christmas. Sure, she's lonely and depressed and angry, but she’d feel the same way if she were home. And if she were home, she would have to deal with her dad and whatever new hobby he’s decided to try to fill the gaping hole in his life with this month. And then she’d have to deal with her mom and her eclectic blend of faux-motherly reassurances and childish pleas for validation. It would be worse. It would absolutely be worse. It’s better to be on her own. It is.

[cornertheculprit]

Hey since you seem to have great taste in such things I was wondering if you had any Phoenix & Maya fics you could recommend 👉👈

SURE!!! some of these also include pearl and trucy because. family <3

kids who need saving (1.3k):

Maya gingerly stepped closer until she reached the middle of the cluttered room. She couldn't see what was happening on the other side until Nick stepped away, producing a small, timid child clinging to a pink cape.

“Uh, Maya? This is Trucy. She’s my—daughter.”

The little girl—Trucy—gave Maya a careful once-over, her eyes gliding from her socks and sandals to the stud earrings in her ears, and Maya felt pinned by the eight-old’s gaze. Her expression was blank, but Maya could see the contemplation stirring in her big round eyes. Nick seemed to notice, because he gently nudged her and whispered, “she’s good.”

And Trucy blinked up at her father, then back to Maya, and Maya realized that there were more kids who needed saving. Nick had seemed to realize it, too.

Wright and Co. Christmas Offices (5.6k):

Phoenix is determined to give Pearl a good Christmas this year. It goes better than expected, even if he's pretty sure he's going to have to set aside a 'Pearl Games' fund, now...

oceans and waves and wires (1.9k):

Before this week, Maya had really only channeled for maybe two or three hours at the absolute most. A whole twenty hours of unconsciousness rendered her completely disoriented and laughably weak until quite a while after her testimony had wrapped up. As Maya and Mia sat in the defendant’s lobby that morning during the recess, Maya nursing a ginger ale and Mia petting her hair, the older sister admitted that any longer probably would’ve resulted in a lot worse.

In spite of all this, if there’s one thing that can tide over a sour mood (or a raging migraine in Maya’s case), it’s a traditional post-trial Wright & Co. Law Offices afterparty, and Maya isn’t about to let that get taken away from her too.

A Time To Play (9.1k):

Nick takes Maya and Pearl on a day of fun and adventure around the city, trying to give Maya a chance to open up after all that's happened. Set post-Trials and Tribulations.

What You Cannot (3.3k):

Nick cries for Maya when she can't, when it is taking all of her strength just to carry on. Eventually Maya returns the favor.

Third Time Charmed (3k):

Maya visits the building for the "first time" three separate times. Whether it's housing Fey & Co. Law Offices, Wright & Co. Law Offices, or the Wright Anything Agency, it always manages to be just the opposite of what she's come to expect.

A Place To Rest Her Head (4.8k):

Maya thinks she's good at hiding when she doesn't feel well. But Phoenix knows her a little too well by now to know something's up.

name your courage now (11.8k):

There's an unspoken promise between Maya and Phoenix, dusty from where Phoenix picked up what Mia left off: if it's me or the truth - the truth, every time.

In the case of Iris of Hazakura Temple v. State, Maya's testimony is make-or-break. She knows what she has to do.

Not to Portray, but to Evoke (1.5k):

After learning that Phoenix went to art school, Maya and Pearl demand a day of painting together.

New Digs (3.3k):

Maya Fey has trouble sleeping. This is a known truth. The reasons behind it, though, are recent, uncomfortable, and best left alone.

Chip on my Shoulder (1.4k):

It is a lovely day in Los Angeles, and Maya Fey is a girl on a mission. It's nothing that illegal, of course! Is it even illegal? It's probably a little illegal.

But it'll be fun, and more importantly it'll be some great team bonding for the newly renamed Wright & Co. Law Offices, and—what the hell is Nick wearing?

Flurries and Phoenixes (11.3k):

Several months after Phoenix adopted Trucy, Maya has him bring Trucy up to Kurain to have some fun in the snow and get to know Pearl. Snow angels, snow phoenixes, and hot chocolate can't cure all the ills of the world, but they can certainly make them more bearable.

and, for fun, here's a super awesome casefic with phoenix, maya & pearl!! (+franziska!)

Turnabout Specter (76.8k):

Maya Fey has successfully launched the very first Kurain Village Cultural Festival, a celebration of the village’s culture and history! However, its success is short-lived, as (of course) a murder takes place on the festival grounds. With Phoenix Wright heading the defense of the suspect, of one of Kurain's acolytes, the trial that ensues will bring to light one of the darkest chapters in the history of the Fey clan, as its future becomes thrust into increasing uncertainty.

[puella-peanut]

If Alpha Twig got Omega Danny pregnant in high school, do you think they would have stayed together? How would their families react?

Well well...depending on how much I want to be nice or mean to Danny-boy and Terry, the scenarios could vary. Since I have a similar ask for this scenario but that Anon wanted fluff, this one will be on the angsty side (sorry, Danny-boy). Heads up for underage Daniel, Omega-sexism, me making Danny suffer, and super bastard boyfriend psycho Terry (as well as his shitty father). 

.

.

.

—By early February, as soon as his Ma leaves, Daniel spends nearly every morning before school resting his cheek against the cool porcelain toilet in the bathroom he shares with his Ma in their shabby apartment. He turned 15 in December, still looks like 12—he’s just a kid, a pup, a freshman, and now he’s...

Daniel can’t even finish the thought. ('Cause he promised Ma, Madonna bless her, he’d be good here in Omega-friendly California, stay outta trouble. That’s why she allowed him to go to one of these progressive Integrated Schools instead of a mediocre Omega Government-Funded Institution.) And he’d been so happy, so excited—and now he’s in the worst trouble of his life. Daniel’s eyes fill. What on earth is he gonna tell his Ma? What on earth is he gonna tell...

...Terry?

(The ridiculously handsome, popular Alpha who’d graciously invited Daniel to his Christmas party at the fancy loft in upscale LA, a week before Christmas break, and Daniel had innocently gone along, totally flattered that his crush since the very first day of school in August had asked...him! Poor, plain, and little almost-15-year-old Daniel LaRusso! And Terry had been tall and dashing and seductive—giving Daniel all of his undivided attention, and then his first taste of champagne, and a bit later his first kiss. And then real late that very evening his first...well, everything.) 

Daniel had lost a lot that night, more than he knew at the moment, and had woken up alone, and sore, and frightened—and with an aching head in a guest bedroom instead of Terry’s apartment-sized bedroom. A Beta maid had offered him breakfast, but he’d turned the lavish tray down, mortified, and left immediately once he found his clothes neatly folded and freshened up on the vanity’s chair. He hadn’t seen Terry. (He'd...wanted to.)

Ma had been more worried than angry, and had fussed over him when he’d returned with a feeble lie. Luckily he was wearing a turtleneck sweater, so she didn’t see the bruises and bite marks on his neck and shoulder, and the matching hand-shaped bruises on his wrists. And she didn't have a clue about the mouth-shaped-marks on his chest, his inner thighs. Thank the Alpha up above. Anyways, he’d moped over Christmas not feeling himself, and daydreaming about Terry, wishing he would call, and not thinking too much on why he didn’t. 

But after a holiday that was anything but merry, Terry didn’t even spare him a passing glance when school started again on the 3rd. That first day back without a single word or look of acknowledgement from the Alpha had crushed Daniel, deeply, and he’d cried a little in the bathroom after he’d thrown up all his lunch. So he ended up being not only heartbroken, but ill for the new year. Go figure. 

I think in this one, Anon, Terry is a Senior. He’s wealthy, spoiled, and a playboy—he has time to fuck around with many a pretty Omega, but no time to stick around for one. Terry’s going places, you see, he’s a brainy and bookish scholar despite the lecherous side; he has been accepted to several of the Ivy League Alpha-Only universities of Yale, Columbia, Harvard; maybe even to schools abroad like Oxford—he can’t be having a fucking pup now. 

(Why Alpha above, he could’ve shaken the boy as he’d stuttered and stumbled through telling Terry about his...condition in a classroom in a lonely part of the school. Wanted to, badly, when the kid had started crying these great hulking sobs that shook his body, looking so small and delicate and fragile—and giving off such terrified pheromones that it made Terry’s stomach roll with...with he didn’t even know what. He didn’t even respond to the boy’s pitiful pleading, just left him there all crumpled and blotchy on the floor in the too-big red sweater Terry had ripped off him that night in December...only now with endless tears running down his face. But Terry could smell it on him, easy, like Alphas could of the Omegas they’d knotted up. He was reeking of it. Those pregnancy pheromones, his and the kid’s mixed together, tangled up in a knot...)

...He gets his father, the Alpha Silver-senior, to hush this nonsense all up, threaten the kid and his mother if they retaliate (not that Betas, and especially Omegas, had much of a percentage, if any, of winning a lawsuit against an Alpha). And Silver sr. does, because his only child (a strapping boy, an Alpha! How proud is he!) is set to take over the legendary Silver business, and needs to keep the connections, name, and social hierarchy a fancy university will maintain for him—not the shame a penniless, pregnant Omega and bastard puppy will bring. Why, what a pity they outlawed the Breeding Farms a century ago—he’d have that Omega slut banished there instead. He wishes Terrance had been more discreet, true—but then there’s that ridiculous Alpha bragging pride that his son knocked up an untouched 14 year old Omega at, what, only 18? A proper Alpha already! He signs the papers with a flourish, plans out the monthly fee—measured in accordance, of course, if the child comes out an Alpha (wonderful, but doubtful), a Beta (boring), or an Omega (vermin). He chides Terrance with a good laugh over their favorite Irish whiskey and imported Cuban cigars, and doesn’t give the matter a second thought. Margaret will oversee the little monthly problem. Now, back to securing that fantastic deal with that German company...

(Anyway, Anon, Terry did think that Danny-boy had been quite the little darling, probably the prettiest Omega Terry ever saw—but that means nothing, really, since the kid was only good for an (admittedly excellent) fuck, and it had been great fun taking his first time. Oh, he’d seen the way the boy’s big eyes had looked shyly his way after that night when they passed each other in the school corridors between classes they never shared—and he’d paid no heed outside of scoffing once he’d passed. What, did the kid think Terry would date him or something, that they’d be official? That Terry’d give him his varsity jacket, like how Johnny had given his to his Omega girl, Betsy? Did the boy really think Terry would love him? Omegas these days. Ridiculous.)

Father transfers the boy to another school, Omega only, and not that dreadful like most of those were—really, the boy should thank him on bended knee!—so he can have the pup like he wants (why not just terminate the blasted thing?), and complete his education. It’s more than many an Omega usually gets, since the discomfort of unshared Heats, the high-percentage fail rate of suppressants, and the sheer yearning of wanting an Alpha to fuck and mate them make many drop-out young. And they’re pressured anyway, to find an Alpha, and get married off as soon as possible, even as young as 13 if they start their Heats early—something which the Government always turned a blind eye to, even here in progressive California. After all, Omegas don’t need to have brains, just spread their dainty legs and pump out pups. Easy peasy. 

So, Terry feels good about the...situation. Mostly. There’s a niggling sensation there, something that feels like it’s pressing on a bruise that Terry doesn’t even know he has. No matter, it’ll pass. He’ll ring up his Alpha pals, Johnny, Ponytail, and Mikey—it’ll make for an amusing yarn to share over dinner and bourbon (and maybe a couple Omega whores if he can bribe Milos to get them for Pony and Mike, since John got boring once he started mooning over Betsy). 

Terry only just wishes he could get the kid out of his memory, damn it. Why, the way he’d caught Terry’s eye since the school year had started, tiny little fluffy-haired brunette—like he’d been tailored just for Terry’s personal tastes. The sweet, addictive scent of him when Terry had bumped into him between classes, once, twice, thrice on purpose—before casually asking him to his party. And when he’d shown up, all in over his head and cutely thanking Terry for the invite—Terry had been ridiculously charmed, deciding then and there that the kid was his that night. (Who cared that he was 14-looking-12? Society didn’t give a flying fuck about Omega-rights and nor did Terry, though both pretended they did.) Anyway, he knew he’d decided rightly when, later on, his mouth had watered like never before to stake his claim on that mating gland when the kid had curled up in his lap away from prying eyes, tipsy and adorable. Or how gorgeous those brown eyes were, especially when they’d looked shyly up at him with such tender affection that Terry had carried him off then and there to his bedroom. The flushed cheeks, the plump mouth moving naively against his own. It was nearly too much. And those sweet, if surprised, sobs of pleasure when he’d...

Shit, he needs another fucking drink. 

So what happens next, Anon?

Daniel has the pup, of course—an Omega he names Samantha. And he loves her from the moment she’s placed screaming in his exhausted arms. Adores her instantly, perhaps even more than usual, because she has her father’s wavy dark hair, and his bright blue eyes...

...Daniel manages to get through school until 18, finding it tremendously difficult to balance studying, and a part time job, and a puppy, but he pushes through it, sometimes on three hours of sleep a night, determined. And maybe a little bit angry (and a lot hurt). The meagre monthly stipend he receives from Terry’s father for having an Omega puppy covers some of Sam’s expenses, and that’s a blessing regardless, because she’ll have it until she has her Omega coming of age at 16, when the dole will stop. It’s not that bad, he supposes wistfully sometimes when Sam’s asleep, and his homework is completed, and it’s just him and his lonesome thoughts. 

(Not that bad even if it does sting that Terry’s never bothered to contact them, or that he hasn’t seen the Alpha since he was pulled out of that school early March. Just to have one more look at him, that’s all he wanted. For old times sake...)

As for Ma, well she's eternally disappointed in him, of course, even though Daniel tries his very best. But she left New Jersey to give him a better life, a better chance across the country where Omegas were allowed to flourish—and what did he do to repay her just a few months later? Oh, she loves Sammy very much and helps take care of her, but something breaks down in their relationship, and Daniel simply doesn’t have the tools to fix it. So when, at 18, Daniel and little Sam relocate to the Bronx for a charity-organized paid training position for single-parent Omegas it’s with a strange, if bittersweet, relief on both sides of the parting. 

But he’s grateful to be trained as a mechanic, a position Omegas aren’t usually taught, nor hired to be in. But Daniel’s a fighter, he fought for equal-opportunity job rights, fought for his little Sam, for himself. He won’t let his past hurt him. He’s gonna move on. Maybe the progressive, Omega-friendly New York City is where he’s meant to be. 

And for a while he’s right, Anon, because now, at 20, he’s respected at his job, and makes a decent living. He’s even landed a good-looking 30 year old blond fighter pilot in the Alpha Armed Forces (the AAF) named Johnny. They’re living together, and Johnny popped the question a little while ago. Daniel’s now got a nice little ring on his finger, and Johnny’s even tried to Claim him, but for some reason it didn’t take...

Whatever. Johnny doesn’t care that the Claim didn’t hold, or that Daniel has had a pup with another Alpha. Sammy likes him, he’s got a steady job, he makes Daniel laugh nearly as much as they bicker, and okay, okay—it’s so very nice to be petted, and cuddled, and wanted, and have his natural Omega urges satisfied. Oh, Daniel likes Johnny very much. (Maybe one day he’ll even love him.)

So, overall, things are going well!

...Until it doesn’t, Anon, because one day, Daniel finds himself adding the finishing touches to a gorgeous vintage black convertible with red leather insides that some fool rear-ended. A classic make like this would cost a pretty penny; whatever Alpha owns this (and of course it’s an Alpha)—is filthy, disgustingly rich. 

He should have known then, should have realized before the owner showed up, before the long stride of expensive dress shoes was heard echoing off the concrete floors. Before that familiar scent of bourbon and cigar smoke hit his nose.

But Daniel doesn’t, so when Terry Silver—wealthier, taller, and more dashing than ever—shows up, Daniel finds himself backing up against the car he just polished, so many emotions tangled up in his stomach it’ll take years to pull them apart, if ever. 

Terry’s polite, charming, sophisticated. But the years have sharpened him like a knife, making his smile at once captivating and deadly. He tells Daniel in a friendly manner how he’s very recently become the head of his family’s company, now that his father’s finally passed. That he’s the one who sent Daniel the latest monthly stipend for Sam seeing that Margaret was dismissed immediately after the funeral. That he’s known the exact whereabouts of Daniel and Samantha for two weeks now, since the day his father died. 

Terry tells him, still grinning even while Daniel’s hands start shaking���of the fact that his convertible landing in Daniel’s bodyshop was not a stroke of luck, but rather a set-up. A plan not only for Terry’s personal amusement, but also to soothe his rage—to observe Danny at work, see how an Omega got by at a (haha!) paying job. A job which he, sweet Danny-boy, should never have been fucking trained for in the first place, which he should never have been working at. Or working, whatsoever. 

That Terry knows—and here his blue eyes grow so cold when he glances in utter disgust at the simple engagement ring that they look like ice—about Johnny. About their wedding plans. About the failed Claiming. 

And lastly, lastly because this is all not enough of shock for one day, for one life—

—the reason, Terry says as lightly as if he were mentioning the weather, the Claiming failed from that subpar fool of an Alpha is because you’ve already been Claimed, sweetheart. Since that night when you were 14. For several years now, you’ve been mine. And, Danny-boy, darling—you didn’t even suspect a thing. 

Daniel can’t breathe, can’t think. Can’t do anything except put up his hands defensively as Terry steps in close, crowding Daniel against the convertible, the knots of his spine shoved hard enough against the polished metal to be sore for days. 

Terry’s shadow towers over Daniel, and his hands hold his wrists so tightly that he wraps them in bruises just as he did all those years ago. Daniel whimpers in pain, in fear, in terrified confusion at how quickly his life has turned upside down again—and Terry’s smile broadens as he grinds Daniel’s wrist bones painfully.

All these years, Terry whispers in his ear, I couldn't get you out of my fucking mind. It was like having a fever that never got better. I had to make it better; I had to get better, Danny-boy. My father, curse him, wouldn't have it. He thought it was nonsense, that it would run its course, and when it didn't, he took great care to keep any and all information about you and my pup away from me. Margaret helped. And I waited, waited until he dropped dead by either my hand or fate, and everything he owned and signed and kept hidden—became mine. Though you, Terry says kissing the top of his head tenderly, have always been. 

He takes Daniel in his arms, rests his head against his chest, against his heartbeat. Chuckles when he feels the tremors going through Daniel's body. 

Terry gives Daniel an ultimatum: Daniel and Sam can go back with him to LA on his private plane, latest by tomorrow night—or he takes Sam with him in the next hour, and Daniel will never see her again, he’ll make sure of it. What's Daniel going to do, anyways? A working-class Omega who got knocked up at 14, attempt to go up against an Alpha, a Silver? Oh, sweetheart. How you make me laugh! 

And it's bullshit, total bullshit in every way because of course there's only one solution. There's no way Daniel would ever leave his little girl, and Terry knows this. He's always known this. It's the ace up his sleeve. 

So he wipes the tear that falls down Daniel’s cheek almost gently, letting his thumb linger on Daniel’s wobbling bottom lip. There’s a hunger in his eyes, a possessive desire. A cold-blooded triumph. 

“Well, Danny-boy?” he says fondly. 

[doueverwonder]

back to headcanon Ill never use:

somewhere in this hc that I daydream about a lot but will never actually do anything with William's dad is Wolter, a personification of the Saxons tribe. He and Will were very close for a long time, Will's mother had left when he was young--she was the personification of the Jutes--So it was just Wolter and William. They would go back and forth between Britain and the Mainland, they were both just Saxons. Because for a long time no one cared enough to draw a distinction between the two.

Their relationship got... tough, after the Anglo-Saxons converted to christianity, and William was now often at odds with his father as the Saxons hadn't converted yet. Especially considering how many of the missionaries to the old Saxons were Anglo-Saxon.

The Saxons wars started and Wolter went back to the mainland, William didn't go with. It was the first time he didn't go back with his father; he was fourteen said he was old enough to stay back, said he didn't want to go, he was angry with his father. The Franks were right for what they were doing.

Five years is what Wolter told William, stay out of trouble. I'll be back within five years, if I'm going to be longer I'll send word. If something happens if you need me come find me, I should be- Will waved him off. yeah, yeah, I know, I'll be fine

Now I have two 'endings' to this hc.

Wolter dies. He's killed during the Saxon wars and was replaced by another personification. William wouldn't find this out until years later, five years after he had sent word, ill be gone at least another five ten years later he got I'm sorry I've been gone so long, I promise I'm trying to end this 27 years into the Saxon wars in 799, he got the last message he would ever get from his father I'm sorry, I didn't mean to you leave you for this long. 804 Will hears about the last of the Saxon rebellions being put down. 810 he gets the official news; your father is dead.

OR

Wolter just never gets back. He thinks of his son back in Britain all the time but things change, and by the time England is united he still hasn't returned and something tells him by this point Will doesn't need him anymore. So he doesn't go back. Centuries pass, William never finds out what happens to his father. In 1609 he brings Alfred back to Britain for the first time, Wolter catches wind. An english Colony in the New World, its personified, William is bringing the child back to Europe soon. And for the first time in 800 years, he decides to go back to Britain. I'm skipping details, he gets over there he finds Will, william, rationally is like where have you been? why didn't you come back? i don't need you, i don't want you anymore etc...Skipping more details, he lets him see Alfred but thats about it. Wolter leaves, and they don't make up. Not immediately. It'll be years, the Christmas truce is what'll break them both and make them actively try. Is this version Wolter is Lower Saxony in modern day, and shows up randomly in England to embarrass his son in front of all of parliament, and likes to brag to the rest of the German states about how great his grandkids are :)