#really should dress kai more fancy more often

[vialae]

[hyukalyptus]

not at all — hueningkai x chubby!fem!reader. NSFW/MDNI!

cw. first date, chubby!reader, mention of eating and drinking, reader's a bit tipsy, pet names (cutie, pretty i think), tummy love obvi, nipple play obvi, marking, biting, tiddy fuck <3, oral (m. receiving), jiggle, unprotected sex, creampie, body worship? notes. this is self indulgent AF!!! reposted from me my old acct, didn't rly edit, smut under cut. wc. 2.2K

“Kai!” You smile when you open the door, greeted by the cutest Kai you’ve ever seen, all dressed up, holding a bouquet of pink peonies, smelling of cologne. It’s only the second time you’ve seen him, but you didn’t think he could get any cuter after meeting him at the bookstore the other day—cute nose in a book, wavy hair falling over his eyes, biting his lip in concentration. 

You’d caught him off guard approaching him, recommending another book based on what he was reading and ended up chatting for a while. 

“Just let me know if you need any other book recommendations once you finish that one.”

“Okay, will do.” He smiled softly, nodding awkwardly.

“I’m gonna go now…so just let me know, yeah?” Pressing his lips together, he nodded again. “Are you here a lot?”

“No, I’m not here too often,” he said, scratching the back of his head. 

“I’m trying to get you to ask me for my number.” 

“Oh! Right, right…phone numbers—ha.” 

You simply look stunning. Your gorgeous dress hugs you in all the right places, accentuating your chest perfectly. It’s a totally different look from the sweater and jeans you were wearing the other day. So seeing your chest like this gives him heart eyes. He’s just absolutely, positively giddy looking at you. It’s difficult for him to even say, “For you,” while he hands you the flowers. 

“Oh, wow, thank you. How’d you know these were my favorite?” You giggle, letting him in your apartment, but he doesn’t go past the front entryway. He simply watches in awe while you find a vase, rambling a bit to him, not even noticing him shyly standing across the room. “Come over here, silly. Make yourself at home,” you say. 

Nodding, he slowly makes his way closer to you, but he does make a point to look over your apartment—noticing little details about you. The quirky gallery wall above your couch, the fancy olive oils near your stovetop, that book you bought from that bookstore where you met resting on your coffee table. “You’re so cute,” you say, his ears turning red hot. “Just come over and have a seat.” You motion to the bar stool behind the kitchen counter. 

Remembering this is a date and he can flirt with you a bit, he says, “You look really pretty.” It might not have been the cheekiest of flirting, but it’s still flirting. 

“Thank you,” you smile. “You look really pretty tonight too.” And he really does—he’s so, so pretty, almost ethereal, like there’s a glow around him. “So, whatcha got planned for us this evening?” You ask, leaning over the counter, sparkly eyes blinking up at him, tits peeking out over the neckline of your dress. He tries—really, he does—maintaining eye contact, but you’re so, so pretty too, he can’t look at your eyes either. 

So he opts for checking his watch before saying, “I’ve got reservations for us in about a half hour. We should probably get going actually.”

“Oh, okay! Sure,” you smile, grabbing your bag and heading out the front door. 

It’s such a cute, cozy place. All the walls and decor are so warm, it’d make anyone want to cuddle, but for touchy-feely people like the two of you, you’re already all cuddled into each other. 

The two of you clicked as soon as you sat down. You haven’t stopped giggling, touching his arm, you’ve caught him glancing down at your lips more than a few times. And he just can’t get enough of you. You are the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. He truly believes that. 

After dinner and a few glasses of wine later, you ask him—with your best please eyes—to walk you back home. And it’s a good thing too, because he was planning to anyway.

Both of your arms wrapped around one of his, he drags you back to your apartment, having the best time walking down a quiet sidewalk together. You look up at him, his strong nose undeniably noticeable, his pink, plush lips curling into a smile while he laughs with you. 

Oh, how you wanted him. He was simply adorable in the way he joked with you, held the door open for you, and reached for the bill. The whole evening, he was dipped in sugar. And he seemed like this big, tall teddy bear waiting to be devoured by you. 

“You wanna come up for another drink?” You asked, silently begging him with your pretty eyes, long eyelashes batting up at him. You weren’t sure where he was with everything, to be honest. You’d never know what he was thinking about you. 

But oh, how he wanted you. It was torture sitting next you, but he’d never let you know that. The way your tits were pushed up by your dress, spilling over the top as you leaned closer and closer to him, how he could see the indent of your belly button under the silky fabric, your thighs spread across the booth. You looked…delicious. He couldn’t wait to get you out of that dress, writhing underneath him while he kissed and bit your tummy for a minimum of ten minutes before flicking his tongue over your clit and oh, you legs wrapped around his head, he had to stop himself before it was too noticeable. 

Following you inside, you start pouring some more wine for the two of you, soon joining him on the couch. And it’s more of the same—laughing, giggling, joking, just having fun in each other’s company. It feels so good and natural being together. Soon enough, you’re not sure if it’s the wine or what, but something comes over you. 

He’s way too polite to initiate anything on a first date, but you? You need him, but you don’t want to come on too strong. The wine isn’t helping though. 

Your hand grazes his thigh and he swears his heartbeat is in his throat. “You look so pretty right now,” you whisper. He swallows, lips parting. “Just…” you trail off, taking a sip of the tarte, red wine, lips stained by now. “The way this candle flickers across your skin…you just look…wow.” 

“Thank you,” he chokes out. Is he even getting the hint? 

“You’re honestly probably the prettiest guy I’ve seen,” you say, setting your glass on the coffee table. “This nose is gorgeous.” You lightly drag the tip of your pinky down his bridge, punctuating it with a cute boop to the tip of his nose. “And your eyes…ah, so pretty.” You drag the pad of your thumb across his eyelashes as his eyes flutter shut. “And don’t even get me started on those lips.” You rest back against the couch, smirking at him. 

“No, no, go ahead,” he says, the slightest hint of a giggle in his voice. “What about my lips?”

Ah, he’s got the hint now. “Just how kissable they look. And…” you start, leaning closer to him, hand inching higher and higher on his thigh, faces close enough to feel each other’s breath on your lips. “I want them all over me.” 

Catching your lips with his, he carefully sets the wine glass down before squeezing your thigh, earning a nice groan from you. Pushing off his jacket, he slips his arms out of the sleeves, reaching for your waist, guiding you to straddle his lap. He’s surprisingly good at this based on his shy, cute demeanor throughout the rest of the evening. Legs falling over his, he cranes his neck to reach your lips before trailing down your neck, hands all over your hips. 

“Fuck…” you sigh, hands tangling into his hair. Already burying his face in your cleavage to kiss even more of your skin, both of your breathing starting to get heavy. “My, uh…my bedroom’s down that hallway,” you say and he got the hint immediately.

Hoisting you up with a grunt, thick legs wrapped around his waist, your lips part only briefly as he finds the door knob. Dropping you to your bed, you desperately unbutton his shirt before sliding it off him. He pushes your dress up past your waist, letting out a groan of relief at the sight of your tummy and how gorgeous it is. One hand on your waist, the other on your tit, he simply attacks it with kisses, sucks, and bites. 

You’re not really sure what he’s doing—no one’s ever done this with you before. He doesn’t stop showing your tummy love while his hips grind into the mattress. He must really love tummies. The idea of him pining after your belly all night fills you with butterflies. 

Turning away from him, he whines and pouts at the loss of your beauty, but you say, “I just want this dress off me.” Nodding, he finds the zipper, quickly pulling it over your head and tossing it to the floor to get back to your tummy as soon as possible. It doesn’t last long, though, because once he squeezes your bare tit for the first time, his eyes widen before he makes his way back up to your chest, squishing them together to bury his face into. 

Finally flicking his tongue over your nipple, you moan so sexily, grinding your hips against him. Pushing him off you, you find a moment to flip him on his back, reaching for his pants button, slipping them off quickly. 

It’s your turn to shower his body with kisses and love, starting with a sweet, gentle kiss to his nose, making your way down his chest, licking over his nipples briefly, spending a good amount of time on his tummy, then his glorious thighs. And the beauty that is his cock—pinker than the rest of him and leaking wonderfully. 

Holding him gently, your mouth drops open, but you look up at him through your eyelashes for permission and he nods, eyebrows stitched together. Sinking your lips around his cock, you drag your lips down so slowly, making him whine, cheeks turning pink from embarrassment. One thing about him is…it doesn’t take much for him. Doesn’t take much before he starts begging…begging to fuck you. 

“Be patient, cutie.” And suddenly, you remember, this guy loves tummies and tits—you wrap your tits around his cock, bouncing them up and down and his brain short circuits. The sight of you like this—

“Holy fuck—” he gasps, head falling back against the pillow, rolling his hips between your cleavage. His dominant side seems to have completely vanished under everything you’re doing to him, which you love. Fingers fumbling as they try to wrap around your hair, breath rattling as your name leaves his mouth, toes curling. 

Releasing, you straddle his waist, his big hands squeezing your hips as you reach underneath yourself for his cock, rubbing it up and down your folds. 

He’s so tantalizing, it doesn’t take long to give into him, sinking down on him completely, his eyes slamming shut at the feeling of you. His hands are all over you. Squeezing your bouncing tits, pinching your waist, squishing your soft ass, holding your hips for stability. 

And goddamn does he feel good, reaching the deepest parts of you, giving you butterflies with the way he looks up at you, squeezing you in all the right places. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You’re so…your cock feels…you—”

“I hope the ends of these sentences are good,” he chuckles. You simply don’t know what to do with yourself as you try grounding yourself by grabbing a tit, then running your hands through your hair, anything, but you can only nod before you find the strength to respond. 

“Yes, yes,” you pant. “You feel so, so, so good. Holy fucking shit.”

Fucking up into you, he’s desperately chasing his orgasm, cock sliding in and out of your pussy so deliciously. His breath is erratic as his head drops against his pillow, knots in his stomach tightening with each bounce, fiercely gripping your waist, orgasm quickly approaching. Your whines, the way you’re bouncing over him, the sight of your tits jiggling furiously sends him over the edge. 

And “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Everything about you. His legs involuntarily lift off the bed, muscles trembling as he cums inside you, the feeling washing over you as you’re chasing your own orgasm. 

But it doesn’t take long—one of his thumbs circling over your clit and the other over your nipple is more than enough to send you over the edge. You’re a whimpering mess, fucking yourself on his overstimulated cock, mouth dropping open, obscene sounds spilling out. Falling forward, your tits rub up against his chest as you ride it out. 

You don’t really do much—just lay on top of him while you two catch your breath, his fingertips dragging across your back until his cock slips out of you on its own. 

He finally breaks the silence, “Wow, that was…”

“Yeah, that was great,” you hold your head up to look down at him with a smirk, pecking his nose. “I like you.”

“Ah, stop…” he giggles. “I like you too.” You sit up, running your fingers through your hair and his hands find themselves in the pinch of your waist, thumbs rubbing circles on your hips, but he chuckles and says, “Oh my gosh, look.” You look down and three beautiful hickeys had already bloomed on your belly. He looks a bit embarrassed and admits, “Yeah, I kinda have a thing for tummies.”

“Oh yeah? I couldn’t tell,” you sarcastically, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Is that weird?”

You press gentle kisses to his jaw as you shake your head and say “Not at all, cutie.”

[annaizscribbling]

In Which the Farmer is a Cryptid. Part 7, Jas.

(Pt 1)

Jas was a curious girl. She had to be, really.

She had laid out two of her favorite dresses on her bed. Both were purple, of course. Everything should be purple, in her strong opinion. Jas had found herself a bit less chipper that morning, and she had once overheard Haley say that the best way to tackle a grungy day was to look even more fantastic.

Thus, choosing between her two favorite dresses. After that she would have to choose a bow, which would be far more of an ordeal. Really, being a young lady was no easy task. Though Marnie likes to tell Jas that she’s got it easy. She says that playing all day and school with Penny is easy, and that Jas should enjoy it while she gets to be a kid.

Clearly, Marnie has never had to put together a fancy outfit.

After staring at the two options long enough to get bored, (hours probably) she sought out some assistance. This was a two person problem. Time to get some help.

“Shane!” she called out through the walls. There was no response. She grumbled, crossing her arms. “Shane!”

After a few seconds of impatience, she scooped both dresses into her arms and trotted towards the kitchen.

“Shane!”

Jas found him where she expected to find him, warming up some cold pizza in the mircrowave that was supposedly older than herself. He looked half awake, slumped against the counter because standing up required too much energy. He yawned, a long, loud yawn that often made Jas giggle.

“Shane. Help,” Jas said seriously, inching closer with her dresses in hand.

“Hmm?” He pawed at his scruffy chin, other hand stuffed in his massive hoodie pocket. The light from the microwave cast a glow against him. He really did look barely awake.

“I need your help. I can’t decide what to wear. Choose,” She thrusted both dresses towards him, face puckered seriously.

Shane blinked groggily; he didn’t do mornings well at all. Marnie was probably out taking care of the cows and being productive. Her godfather clicked his tongue, before peering at the bundle of purple frills and tule that made up her dresses.

“… Can’t tell where one dress ends and another starts,” he mumbled, pulling the hem of one to separate it from the other. “Uh. Here. This one,” he nodded his chin at the darker purple one.

“Did you see the bow on the back?” she pointed at the feature for consideration.

“Uh huh. Looks great,” he yawned, patting her on the head. The microwave finished whirring, so he pulled out his food.

Jas frowned, but accepted the choice at face value. Before she could walk back to her room, Shane had gently pulled her arm, bringing her into a hug. He ruffled her dark hair, leaning on her playfully.

“You have a good day for me, kay?” Shane told her, giving her a firm pat on the back. He still sounded half awake, but effort was being made.

“I will, Shane,” she smiled, hugging his side.

“Good. I’ve got ta get to Zuzu City today, but I’ll see you tonight. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get you something from that chocolate store you like so much."

“Yay!” She squealed.

It was a nice thing to hold onto. As Shane left and Marnie started working, it was another day for Jas to entertain herself.

Jas was a curious girl. She had to be.

Her days could be rather lonely. The grown ups in her life were busy. Vincent got busy with his family sometimes. There weren’t other kids in Pelican Town. So Jas knew how to entertain herself. Jump rope, dolls, digging, playing with the cows or chickens, dress up, playing pretend. Lots of things could fill the day.

But sometimes it was hard. She felt a little grouchy, or just more … bored. Just bored. Or maybe a more mean type of bored? She wasn’t sure.

As Jas pondered her mood, dressed in her specially picked dress, she found herself wandering. Wandering up past the house, up the straight path.

It wasn’t long before she found looking at the farmer’s property. Huh. Didn’t mean to do that.

It was a gorgeous summer day. The farm had to many little buildings and ponds. Great big trees were set in clusters around the edges of the property. Strange statues in pastel colors lined the far side by the fence. Animals lounged around in their pens, all healthy and happy. Rows upon rows of kegs and furnaces made neat lines on the other side of the farm.

But Jas’s eyes were captivated by the crops. Big bountiful crops all around.

And among the summer harvest, was the farmer.

Jas loved the farmer. Who was more dazzling than her? Jas wanted a farm of her own one day, to grow flowers and fruit on a pretty day, just like today. The farmer was in black today, like her usual attire. Though today her clothes were breezy, swaying in the gentle summer wind. She held a wicker basket against her hip, filled with blueberries and strawberries, it seemed.

Jas stared.

The farmer was stooped by a little hutch in the center of the crops. Her long curls looked perfect, they always did, honestly, they never seemed to look remotely different on any given day. Like one of Jas’s dolls, but with freckles! Jas wanted freckles too. Her attempts at using paint did not pan out.

After a moment, Jas crept a little closer.

Despite the fact that the farmer was turned around, she seemed to sense Jas. She turned around, smiling fondly.

Jas startled, before timidly waving back. She couldn’t decide if she felt guilty or not about snooping, but the farmer didn’t seem upset, so perhaps it was fine.

The farmer waved her over.

Jas trotted over, excited.

“How would you like a fairy rose?” the farmer whispered in her soft, always very earnest voice. There was a sparkle in her big brown eyes.

“Uh huh,” Jas nodded rapidly, though she didn’t see any flowers anywhere near. She saw plenty of plants, but they all seemed like they’d been harvested already.

“We’ll have to ask my friends,” she told Jas with a mischievous smile.

“Friends ...?”

The farmer nodded, gently pulling Jas to kneel beside her by the little hutch. With a smile, the farmer gave a low whistle into the opening of the little leafy house.

To Jas’s utter shock, a little … something hopped out. It was green, round, shiny, with a little stem and leaf on top. It had black glossy eyes and pink blush. She gave a little gasp.

Two more in red and orange popped out next, flowers in hand. The farmer put her basket down in front of them, and they began piling crops into it. She watched in awe as one of the little fellas brought out the most beautiful fairy rose, a purple one. The green guy waddled out in front of her, holding it out.

Had Jas been any older, perhaps this would have been terrifying. Impossible. Strange and frightening. But she was not any of those things, instead, she was utterly delighted with the funny little things in front of her.

Jas looked to the farmer for permission, who nodded encouragingly. She took the flower and smelled it, the little guy seemed pleased, dancing around, putting its little stick arms in the air with joy.

“That’s a junimo,” the farmer said with a soft smile. She had a soft, soothing voice any day, but especially now, she seemed content. “They help me around the farm. I worked for them for the better part of two years, getting things they needed. Later, I purchased homes for them, and they help gather crops. The junimo’s help Seb and I.”

“… junimos?” Jas looked at the adorable little guys incredulously. She really wanted to hug them.

The farmer nodded, standing up and brushing off her flowy linen pants. She smiled down at Jas and the junimos, plucking another flower from the basket and tucking it behind Jas’s ear. “Good helpers. And very good friends.”

“They are?”

“Sure are,” the farmer nodded. “If you’re not too loud, they might be more than happy to play with you. Helps keep the lonely away,” she whispered.

Jas looked up with big eyes, before turning her attention to the junimos. “Hi, junimos. I’m Jas.”

The junimos came closer, the red one crawling right into her lap. She giggled with delight, petting its smooth skin. It was so cute it made her heart hurt.

With that same soft smile ever present, the farmer got up to go tend to her animals, keeping an eye on Jas as she played with her new friends

“Do you like my dress?” Jas whispered to the junimos, who made strange little gleeful noises in response. Jas blushed and hugged one of them to her chest.

[fortressofserenity]

Not Goth enough

I think when it comes to creating a Goth character in fiction, the fashion sense and association with creepiness often comes first before the musical association. I think this is what Kai Decadence brought up when it comes to Goth characters, but if I were to add my take it's like how their spookiness is always played up but it's unfortunately easy to forget that Goth is also the name of a music (sub)genre in punk rock and linked to a musical subculture.

I suppose it would be really rare to find Goth characters who are into Goth music (the Goth music canon often consists of the Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, Bauhaus and Sisters of Mercy), let alone outside of Goth orientated stories such as Writhe and Shine. I have to bring up these four as they are foundational to the Goth subculture in a way Depeche Mode isn't, that the Cure is one of the few true Goth bands to get any real airplay speaking from personal experience.

It's kind of easy to lump what seems dark and eerie into Goth, but as a musical genre and subculture it doesn't always revolve around it. The earliest Goth bands have their origins in punk rock in some way or another, Bauhaus's David J was part of Jack Plug and the Sockettes, both the Cure and Siouxsie and the Banshees started out as punk bands. Even Joy Division started out as the punkier Warsaw, which should tell you about Goth's roots in punk rock. It's that easy to forget that Goth has anything to do with punk rock.

I feel this is a problem with the way a good number of Goth characters are portrayed in fiction that sometimes influences people's misconceptions of Gothdom, even I myself was susceptible to it at one point. Somebody who likes horror isn't necessarily affiliated with the Goth subculture, someone like Hirohiko Araki may enjoy horror films but isn't that deeply into Goth music in any way and he actually listens to Prince more.

Goth is something else altogether by then, it's not merely a love of spooky things but it's its own thing. To put it this way, just because it has anthropomorphic animals doesn't mean it's furry. Plenty of people anthropomorphise animals but have little to no involvement in furry fandom themselves, dressing in animal fancy dress doesn't necessarily make you a furry either. Furry is something else altogether, as evidenced by the existence of fursonas.

Most people who anthropomorphise animals don't have fursonas, so to me a fursona's a big indicator that somebody is a furry. I might be getting off-topic here but this is to give you an idea that Goth is its own thing, separate from horror fandom in other regards. Somebody may like horror films but have no real interest in Goth music themselves, it's easy to get into misconceptions about Goth because we don't really understand the scene from the inside out.

Kai Decadence said that liking Goth music is a big indicator of being Goth, or at least having an idea of what it actually is like. If somebody listens to Goth music, they may not always be Goth themselves (let alone for life), but they know what it actually is contrary to what others think and expect Goth to be.

[oumaheroes]

Congrats on 100+ followers, you deserve it! I love your blog and writing! For the writing-promp, how about some outsider pov fruk?

Reflections

Word Count: 1690

Characters: England, France - FrUK, America, Canada

----

‘It’ll be fun!’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘Yes it will,’ America insists, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. England’s face through the webcam is decidedly unimpressed.

‘I don’t like house parties,’ he says, but America can hear slight resignation already there in his voice and so pushes again to seal the deal.

‘Please? Come on man, it’ll be great. Right after the G20 meeting in Texas too so there’s no work to worry about; just stay one more day for it. And hey, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

England raises an eyebrow, ‘You invited me to stay withyou.’

America shrugs, unbothered, ‘Then don’t! Or, do- whatever. It’s up to you.’

England sighs and looks conflicted. America seizes the opportunity and goes in for the kill, ‘Everyone else will be there too; you don’t wanna get FOMO.’

‘I don’t get FOMO,’ England snaps, looking affronted, and America instantly knows he’s won, ‘But fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll come.’

America tries to school his face into something that doesn’t look too triumphant, ‘Awesome! Kay, so it’ll be casual, no need to dress up or be all fancy or anything.’

‘Yes yes,’ England waves a hand dismissively and shifts in his chair, ‘I know how a house party works. I do go to some, you know.’

‘Cool cool cool, just making sure.’ America can’t really picture England at the sort of house party he is thinking of, people lounging about on furniture and playing silly drinking games. But it must happen, he supposes- he’s seen England drunk in pubs before and he’s boisterous so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine him in an even more casual setting.

Suddenly, America notes the darkness of England’s surroundings and checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen, ‘Hey, it’s getting pretty late for you over there, isn’t it? I should let you go.’

England glances at his wrist, entirely ignoring the PC he’s using, ‘Yes, I suppose so. Okay, likely I’ll see you next month then.’

‘No backsies, you said yes,’ America reminds him.

England rolls his eyes, ‘I meant that I won’t see you until then, I already said I was coming; I’ll come.’

‘Good!’ America moves his mouse to end the call, ‘See you there, old man. Try to be fun.’

‘What is that supposed to-‘

‘Bye!’

----

Canada glances about the room and nods, ‘It’s not bad.’

America reels back, ‘Not bad? Dude-‘ he gestures to the living room they’re in the doorway of and then to the pool outside, both places spilling over with nations chatting and enjoying themselves under the beat of the music, ‘-it’s more than not bad!’

It really was, in his humble opinion, probably one of his best in recent years. Nearly everyone had turned up who said they were going to and there had been a steady flow of conversation and dancing all night. America had scoped the place out every now and again, making rounds through the house to make sure there were no stragglers sitting somewhere on their own but there wasn’t a need for it- things had run smoothly without him needing to intervene and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. This is why he liked house parties, more than any other type of ‘function’. House parties had a more relaxed vibe, where no one felt the need to impress or do themselves up too much (unless you were one of the older ones, that is; it seemed that no matter what you told them they’d still arrive a bit more formally dressed than everyone else, as if they had some sort of inbuilt compulsion).

Things going so well was probably helped, too, by the fact that America had only invited friends and family. One, because inviting the entire world and putting them in one place anywhere would always result in some form of argument, but also because this was his house and he didn’t want it to get trashed, (regardless of what England had groused when he first arrived and had seen the condition of the place).

Canada shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, ‘I’ve been to better.’

America frowns, disappointed, before jostling his arm playfully when he notices the small, guilty shift of Canada’s eye, ‘Stop messing with me.’

Canada grins behind his cup and nudges him back, ‘Well, no one’s dead yet. That’s always good.’

‘Amen to that,’ America raises his glass in a toast which Canada meets and downs the rest of his drink, ‘Want a refill?’

‘Sure.’

‘Come on then, I ain’t your servant.’

Canada gives him a flat look but wordlessly follows America out of the living room and through to the kitchen. Australia’s there with Mexico, digging about in the lower cupboards for something and Denmark is showing Japan a video on his phone that’s making Japan’s eyes go almost unnaturally wide.

‘Alfred mate, what happened to those Tim Tams you promised me?’ Australia stands up from his crouch on the floor and looks at America reproachfully, ‘I feel swindled.’

America opens his mouth to speak but Canada cuts in first, ‘I hid them.’

America turns to him in confusion, ‘Why?’

‘Zea asked me to, seeing as they couldn’t come. Something about what you did to them at Christmas?’

Australia throws up his hands and scoffs, ‘Jesus fuck, when will they get over that. Where are did you put them? Come on, don’t be a dick, I promised Mexico some.’

Mexico shrugs delicately, ‘I don’t really care, to be honest. I just heard they were bad and wanted to see how bad.’

Australia looks down at her scandalised, ‘Who told you that?!’

She readjusts to sit properly on the floor, ‘People.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them.’ Canada’s job has been carried out to the minimum requirement and America knows that he’s happy that he can now take himself out of the silly argument New Zealand and Australia have slyly pulled him into. He goes out of the kitchen, leaving his empty cup behind, and America follows him curiously through the hallway in the direction of the study.

‘What did Australia do to Zea at Christmas?’ America has missed out on England’s most recent yearly family function; he’d wanted to go surfing with Hawaii instead.

‘Don’t ask,’ Canada says tiredly, the air of an older sibling who had seen far too much. America is offended Canada hasn’t told him already. He opens his mouth to say as much when Canada goes to open the slightly ajar study door before stopping abruptly in the doorway, causing America to almost crash into him.

‘Hey, what-‘ Canada hurriedly squeezes America’s arm and tugs him sharply away in a warning for quiet, catching his eye before glancing into the room meaningfully. America peers around him into the study, wondering what he’s seen.

At first, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking at; it looks empty. The main study light is off, leaving the room lit only by one table lamp by the sofa that casts a warm, buttery glow about the place, softening the corners with shadows. He looks to Canada for help and Canada tilts his head in the direction of the French doors, eyebrows raised.

America follows his gaze and understands. The darkness outside has turned the glass to mirrors, reflecting the front of the old sofa that America could previously only see the back of. On it are England and France, curled up together with France’s head on England’s chest and England propped against the armrest, one knee brought up high for him to rest an elbow on. He has his other hand in France’s hair and is gently running his fingers through it, long languid strokes that feel entirely too intimate for America to process.

It’s a strange thing for him to see. He has accidentally caught England and France doing other things throughout his life but intimacy isn’t really something they display. They argue. They bicker. They fight and scream and laugh, sometimes, but they do not do this in front of other people, this gentleness. Neither of the two are what anyone could ever consider gentle, even France, for all his intentional touches and flirtations -the soft ghost of his hand on a shoulder or resting warm around a waist- are not this, not personal. France is very free with his physical affections but they are shallow things, meaningless and ordinary. There is something removed and detached about how he moves amongst crowds, gathering himself close about someone to brush against them as he stands that speaks of friendliness yes, but not closeness. Nothing special to note.

But here, curled on a sofa and unaware they are being watched, there are no guards up or cold pretences between them, just a natural, domestic openness that America finds oddly normal, for how little he has seen glimpses of it. England and France together are many things, have experienced every extreme and mundane state possible for two people to experience, and this side of them is just another shade, as hard as it is to find.

France tips his head back more and opens his eyes, crinkling their corners as he murmurs something low under the muted music that causes England’s lips to twitch into a rare, open smile. They could be anyone then, just two people on a sofa, young and mellow, and for a split-second America can’t see them as anything else. The warm mood hides their identity and blurs their age- familiar strangers tucked away on their own.

America jumps, startled, when Canada nudges him, an elbow into his side and he turns to find his brother gesturing with his head back into the hallway.

He agrees. America knows both England and France would be mortified to be caught like this, boneless and out of character around the person they often so openly despise, so it’s best to leave them as they are undisturbed.

Australia can wait, America will squeeze the truth out of Canada about Christmas and maybe take Zea’s side just for fun.

----

AN:

Sorry for the wait anon, but I hope you see this and I hope that you like! Thanks for the ask and for your kind words, this was a lovely prompt and I really liked thinking about how I could do this justice ;u;

<3

[quillquiver]

another chapter of this deancas wedding/honeymoon!fic. thank you @we-all-deserve-to-be-saved for the prompt! 

Castiel is not a morning person.

He likes lying in bed until he’s sore with it, stretching out on the memory foam like a king languishing among his pillows. He likes rolling over onto on a cool patch of sheet, and cuddling into the covers, and hooking his toes over the end of the mattress. Castiel likes holding Dean. Being held by him; tucked up against his chest or with a palm half-sunk into his boxer-briefs. Pressing kisses to neck and shoulders and the line of his hair.

Castiel likes the liminal space he occupies in the moments between sleep and wakefulness, where everything glows. It’s warm and wonderful and he draws it out for as long as possible, the minutes dragging along by way of tender touches. It reminds him of the peaceful parts of angelhood.

So, Castiel is not a morning person.

…But he can become one, for Dean.

Dean likes romantic gestures; not all of them—he isn’t the type of man who likes receiving flowers or chocolates or candlelit dinners. But picking up his favourite beer when Cas notices they’re running low, or staying up late to watch a movie despite being exhausted—kissing him, washing his hair, holding his hand, sitting with him while he works on the Impala… wearing women’s lingerie: these are all things Dean appreciates. Small things. Quiet things.

Cas knows that this is a gamble.

The alarm on his phone barely has the opportunity to buzz before he’s turning it off, carefully sliding out from between the covers. It’s dim, and Cas allows himself a moment to run his hand through the mess of his hair and dig his toes into the soft carpet. A breeze is coming off the water.

God, he hates early mornings.

“Where you goin’?”

Dean’s voice is slurred and muffled. He blindly reaches out and Cas meets him halfway, tempted into cuddling for just a moment longer. “Go back to sleep, Dean,” he murmurs, gently brushing over the pillow lines on his cheek.

“Mmm, w’sss hap’nin?”

“Bathroom,” Cas supplies, depositing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean’s reciprocation lags with exhaustion.

Dean frowns. Struggles to open his eyes. “Y’okay?”

“I’m fine,” Cas says. “Go back to sleep.”

“’Kay,” Dean mumbles. “C’m back.”

Cas melts like fallen ice cream on hot concrete.

He carefully extracts himself from their bed, padding into the other room and closing the bedroom door. The sun is beginning to paint the first impressions of light on the horizon; the water is calm—it’s going to be a beautiful day.

Castiel calls for room service.

He orders pancakes and waffles and eggs and sausages, lox bagels, a bowl of fresh fruit, mimosas. An espresso and a latte because Dean would never ask for it himself. “And would you mind putting a rush on this?” he murmurs into the receiver. “I know it’s early, but we’re newlyweds and I’m trying to surprise my husband.”

Cas has learned that the newlywed excuse goes a long way anywhere, but works especially well when paying outrageous amounts of money in a fancy hotel. He expects they’ll also leave the champagne bottle.

Despite the fact that Cas is pretty sure it’s considered impolite to do so, he moves the small table and chairs from the balcony and makes a nest on the marble floor out of spare blankets and colourful pillows from the couch. He tries to mitigate the potential mess by laying down some of their many extra towels. Room service knocks, Cas pulls on a robe, and then the smell of coffee and food starts rousing Dean from bed. Cas pushes the food cart—complete with opened champagne bottle—to the door of the balcony before entering the bedroom.

Dean has kicked off all the covers and is sleeping on his stomach.

There is no moment of thinking about what he wants to do—what he’s allowed; Cas moves without conscious thought, peppering kisses from Dean’s ass all the way to the nape of his neck and then lavishing his attention on his particularly freckled shoulders. “Mmm… smells good.”

“Breakfast,” Cas says.

“S’early.”

“I want to take you on a date.”

Dean’s eyes flutter open. “Now?” he asks, caught between sleep and incredulity.

Cas leans over and presses a kiss to his mouth. “Mm.”

“Sweetheart…” He whines. Cas feels himself start to smile. Dean doesn’t use pet names often, and more recently he’s taken to doing so while complaining; as if the verbal confirmation of his affection will bend Cas to his will. It was laughable until it became endearing—because Cas is sweet on him, and there is no one else Dean feels comfortable whining to.

“Your life is one hardship after another,” he agrees solemnly. Cas slides back down Dean’s body and nips his left asscheck. “Come on. Up.”

“What, we’re not even gonna—”

“After breakfast, Dean. Just come. Please.”

Dean rolls his eyes and grumbles about a different kind of coming. “Man, s’not even light out yet.” As Cas moves to get Dean his robe, he’s caught around the waist and pulled between bowed legs. “C’mon,” Dean needles, nuzzling at him until the robe parts. “A little nookie, a couple more hours of sleep… we can go on a date later.”

“Or we can go on a date now.”

Dean pulls away and looks up at Cas, narrowing his eyes. Cas smiles down at him beatifically, running a hand through his hair and tracing the shell of his in the way he knows turns him to putty.

“…You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes.”

Dean continues to grumble to himself as he slides out of bed and towards his duffle, frowning when Cas catches his hand. “No need to get dressed.”

“But you said—”

Cas holds out his robe. “Follow me.”

Dean slips the thing on as they pad into the main room, his eyes immediately drawn to the food and coffee. He gives a low whistle. “Damn, Cas. We expecting company?”

And suddenly, the entire thing seems incredibly stupid. Cas dragged them both from the warmth and comfort of their marriage bed on their honeymoon to look at the sun rising, a thing that happens and has happened every single day since the Earth started turning. He did this knowing that neither of them get to sleep like this, or be alone like this, or touch like this—this much and this openly. He doesn’t even know if Dean likes sunrises; if this is one of those things that’s romantic in the wrong way.

“I know you like breakfast,” he says, instead of dragging Dean back to bed.

Dean eyes the set-up outside, turn around and… blushes. Is blushing, down his chest and all the way to the tips of his ears. “So this is, uh—you got up and did all this?”

Cas feels colour rise to his own cheeks. “I didn’t cook,” he says. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Dean echoes. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, uh, take me on a date, stud.” He looks nervous, Cas thinks, which is ridiculous and relatable all at once. Outside, the rising sun paints swathes of pink and orange across the horizon.

“…Right,” Cas says. “Yes. I will… do that.” He gestures to the balcony. “Please sit.”

They get settled with coffee, for the first time maintaining a respectful distance between them. It’s oddly hurtful, and the longer they remain apart the more awkward Cas feels. He’s practically shaking out of his own skin when he suggests they go back inside. “You’re tired,” he says. “We should just go back to sleep.”

“Wait, why?” Dean frowns. He has foam on his upper lip. Cas wants to kiss it away.

“You’re not having fun,” he continues. “And this was silly, anyway. We should just—”

“Who says I’m not having fun?”

“Dean—”

“C’mon, man, you gotta—” Dean cuts himself off. Shakes his head. “I’m not cut out for this stuff: dates, romance… you gotta know that by now. And I haven’t been with anyone long enough to, y’know, even get to the part where we’re mushy and shit. But… it’s not because I don’t want to. I mean, flowers and chocolate? Not my thing, but you know me, Cas. A-And we’re in love, right?”

Cas swallows thickly. He nods. “I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s huff of laughter is steeped in nerves. “Well, good,” he says. “’Cause I’m kinda crazy about you, too. So—so, why shouldn’t we have a sunrise picnic on the balcony at the fuckin’ Ritz?”

“We should, if you’re enjoying myself.”

“Hell yeah, I’m enjoying myself. Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Drink your damn coffee.”

Cas stares at him for a moment before scooting closer. He wraps an arm around Dean and tugs, relaxing when over six feet of freckled hunter is suddenly plastered to his side. “Okay,” Cas breathes. “Good. This is good. I love you.”

“I love you, too, you loser.”

They come together more softly than usual, tentative in a way they haven’t been in a long time as they kiss. Eventually, Dean gets pulled onto Cas’s lap and shrugs out of the top of half of his robe. “Gonna need to work up an appetite to finish all that food,” he murmurs. He ducks down to suck and bite at the spot on Cas’s neck that makes him weak in the knees.

Cas snorts. “Very subtle.”

“So, uh…” Dean bounces his eyebrows like a lecherous old man.

Cas’s stomach growls. “Can we postpone the exhibitionism until after we eat?”

“There’s no one around!”

He’s smiley when Cas kisses him.

“What would you like for breakfast?” Dean opens his mouth and Cas rolls his eyes. “Besides me.”

“That’s mighty presumptuous of you, Castiel.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “I know you.”

“Yeah.”

It comes out much breathier than probably intended, and Cas can’t be expected not to kiss him. When they drift apart and Dean says, “Little bit of everything?” Cas gets up to make him a plate.

“Man,” Dean sighs, stretching out on the pillows. “This honeymoon thing is awesome.”

Cas hands him a plate piled high with bacon and eggs and pancakes and grins.

It really, truly is.

[softkuna]

𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳 | meian shugo

𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃-𝙰-𝙱𝙾𝚈𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳! 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑... 𝙼𝙴𝙸𝙰𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝙶𝙾

Meian settled into a Jeep Wrangler Rubicon that he rented from some fancy schmancy place. His date would be waiting for him not too far from that point. From her profile photos, she was cute. Small from what it seemed, but when you’re 6’5” most people were small. The profile was very obviously not written by herself seeing as most the answers included “my friend likes…”

He pulled up the map and sent an ETA through the app. He rolled the window down, letting an arm fold out while his hand remained on the wheel. Driving was his serenity and it was a damn shame he couldn’t drive as often as he wanted to. He was a humble man, not one to brag about his garage of cars. Not one to talk about how he liked to fix’em up.

It took all of 15 minutes to reach the meet up point. He saw you, but your head was down in your phone, hand along your neck and fingers tapping at the skin. He was supposed to be your boyfriend for the day. He had a date or two already to which he was tipped generously for his time. It was a natural thing for him. He was a relationship type of guy. He was always more on the natural air of things, confidence coming with age. With a face like his and a career like his, it could only grow with each person who approached him.

But for some reason, seeing you look so nervous while waiting for him made him want to not lay it on so heavy. Others he laid it thick with the ‘doll face,’ ‘pup’, ‘sugar’. (One date he didn’t even need to leave his room. It was a zoom call where he had his camera off. She had told him ‘I want you to piss my parents off.’ )

You looked up to see your date for the evening, Meian Shugo. He was in a black Jeep, high off the ground. His smile was broad, confident, gleaming. All the confidence you had built up from Shoyo had suddenly vanished. You thought you’d do so well this time but the butterflies swarmed in your stomach so violently you feared their wings would cut through your stomach.

There was a moment of silence, both of you staring at each other until he barked a laugh and hopped out of the car. Oh lord he was huge. Massive. You resisted every fiber of your being that wanted to ask him about the weather.

Meian placed a hand gently between your shoulder blades, guiding you to the opened passenger side door, “I don’t bite… much.” With a wink, he closed your door and sat on his own side.

“I-is this your car?” Your stammering was adorable.

“Nah,” he waved a large hand, “Rented it. I do own one like it back home.” He gestured a thumb behind him, pointing to a figurative ‘home.’ You nodded once and fluttered fingers to your cheeks, covering the blush when you felt his eyes on you.

He blinked at your non-winter-weather outfit; light wash and high waisted denim shorts with a thick belt. They looked big, but he figured that was the style now’a days. You had on some cream colored spaghetti strap tank top that cropped just above the belt. And a dusty pink cardigan made of…

“Ey, hon, what’s this fabric? Mind if I-?” He pinched a little between his fingers, rubbing the material. It was soft. Really soft. Nothing like he’s seen before.

“Polyester? I think??” You pulled it off and looked at the tag, “Yep! It’s not mine though. It’s my friend’s. They likes to dress me up.”

“Aren’t ya cold?”

“A little, but we’re in a car so it’s no big deal.”

His arm hung out the window, pulling back in to shift gears here and there. You stared out to the horizon, stiff as a board. You weren’t the easiest to talk to at first, often muttering single worded responses.

You couldn’t help it. He was handsome as hell. Shoyo had a boyish charm to him, especially with how energetic he was, but Meian. He was a man. A sharp edge to him that definitely couldn’t be read as anything other than comfortable masculinity.

Snapping out of your daze, you perked. You were going across a bridge. A beautiful one at that. You could see the sun just above the ocean. Probably an hour or two before sunset. Both of your hands gripped the car window,  “Meian,” you called with a slight pitch in your voice, “this is gorgeous!” You beamed at him a tad over-excitedly.

His lazy smile broadened, “Figured you’d like it.” It did say in your profile that it was one of your favorite spots to be at.

Within another set of minutes, awkward silence melted into comfort. The car stopped in an empty parking lot. It wasn’t like there were many people at the beach around 4 PM on a winter weekday. Your eyes were glued on the man as you watched his hand shift the gear to park and suddenly you remembered his proposition.

You were learning how to drive a stick shift.

“Alright pup, gonna teach ya a new trick,” He reached underneath the seat, craning it back as far as it could go. Not like it was far considering how long those legs were. Nervously you unbuckled, leaning on the console to peer at the petals.

Your heart stopped and your lips pursed slightly. Meian took one look at your expression and bit back his laugh. You looked up to him with a crease in your brow, “Why are there three petals?”

Soon enough, you were in the driver’s seat and he was in the passenger side. You searched for the lever to pull the seat up and blushed when Meian reached under to show you. At this point, it wasn’t even that he was uncomfortable to be with. It was quite the opposite. He was relaxed and maybe a little teasing. If people were colors, he’d be a serene seafoam. No, what made you nervous was how attractive you found him and how he so perfectly acted out the role of boyfriend.

“Let’s start in first, ‘kay?”

You nodded, swallowing down your anxiety. Push out of your comfort zone. More like shove you out the comfort window.

“Remember which one’s the break?” Meian peered to your legs, foot hesitantly over what you thought was the break, “Good! Now what?”

“Emergency break?” Now it was your hand’s turn to hover.

“Atta girl!” He was impressed at your memory. Most people would’ve forgotten that step if they only drove automatic. When his eyes met yours he could swear to god he saw the sparks light up in them. So you’re a praise learner, huh?

You glanced down, moving your left foot to the clutch and pressed it down. While still on break, your hand slid onto the gear shift. You waited. Picking up on the subtle clue, the captain nodded, “Yep, go to first.” His right hand hooked to the handle by the window casually.

You shifted into first. Feeling his eyes on you, you wanted to show him that you remembered his mini lesson and peered at the dash to the RPM, watching it move up before slowly letting go of the clutch. Just like that, the car began rolling.

Meian’s palm smacked the roof of the car as he hollered, lop-sided lips tugging up. You bounced excitedly, eyes switching between the gear shift, the petals, and the RPM.

You switched gears successfully not once, but twice. Each time, Meian showered you in praise. Your heart fluttered and it made you want to do more. When you turned the wheel, he encouraged you to go to the road. Anxiety crept up in you and you felt your palms sweat on the leather. He leaned the seat back, “Nothin’ta worry about. You’re a natural. Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Your voice wavered with giddiness and uncertainty. Should he really be trusting your novice driving skills like this? You seriously questioned his judgment calls.

He peered at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the laser focus you had on the road. Hell, you even stopped gnawing your lip like it was the last food to grace the earth. He crossed his arms and tilted his head back, deciding to close his eyes, “Sure as I can be, pup. Gotta question for ya.” You hummed, leaning forward slightly to view the empty road better. He continued, “How’d ya get so good at multitasking?”

You took a moment to answer, making sure to shift appropriately as you picked up speed, “I do a lot of art – pottery and all. Professionally.” You really couldn’t multitask as well as he thought you could, but you wanted to impress him, “It’s kind of like a pottery wheel with petal and speed and hand things. That’s the closest I can get, though. There isn’t a lot of multitasking in the other art things I do, really. Not like this.”

The Jackal’s captain fully looked at you in that moment, a small ‘huh’ leaving his lips. He took in the bit of clay that lodged itself under your bitten nails and the small stripe of white paint on your thighs from propping up a canvas before the edges dried. Meian never dated an artist before, but he wanted to now.

Comfort came after driving a few circles. Eventually you found yourself on a strip of road that extended far out. Meian remained laid back, eyes closed. He never fell asleep and instead listened to you sing along to songs that played on the radio (which was turned on after the third circle seeing as you were deemed ‘good ’nuff’ for the minor distraction).

 You occasionally chit chatted about this and that. You learned that he was an athlete – like your last date. He learned that you’re supporting yourself alone. Your parents didn’t exactly vibe with you being an artist and skipping university all together. You didn’t tell him you had a date with Shoyo, though. Just like he didn’t tell you that he was part of a professional team with Shoyo.

He felt comfortable. You felt comfortable. That’s when three things happened.

1.       You passed a 15 mph speed limit sign.

2.       You saw that you were going 65 mph.

3.       You felt Meian rest a warm palm on your thigh.

Now, in quite literally any other context, that would be a pleasant boyfriend-like thing to do. He was simply acting his part’. Surely, he did the same thing with other clients. However. That combined with the other two made your heart, lungs, and soul try to jump out of your corporeal form and into the next dimension.

First gear. First gear! First gear!

Whipping it into first, the car decided you were the bourgeoisie and it was the working class. It straight revolted, a loud clattering was accompanied by you scrambling around in a panic. Meian sprang up, but his torso was snapped back by the seatbelt’s safety. He unbuckled (like a moron) and kicked your foot out of the way from its spot to press and pull both available breaks.

You sat in silence, hands over your mouth and eyes wide. A choir of ‘oh shit’ sang in your mind, commemorating your funeral with their harmony.

It took some shuffling, but Meian went back to driver’s side. You stood next to the car by the shoulder of the road. A burning smell tickled your nose. Your date came out, hands on his hips and lips pursed to the side. Coming to you, he sighed, “Transmission or clutch went awol. Damn thing won’t start back up. Nothin’s leakin’.”

You sucked your lips in and resisted the urge to scream. Throwing up was one thing. Breaking a rental car was an entirely different one. You bowed, “Meian, I am so so sorry. I should’ve been paying attention and I-I-“

“Woah, woah, girlie, calm yourself. Don’t need’ta do any of this shit,” He bent at the waist, peering at your squinting eyes. His hand rested at the curve of your shoulder into your neck, thumb stroking calmly at the spots you had tapped at before he picked you up. The effort brought near immediate relief, but anxiety made you wonder if he was masking his anger for the sake of his job. When he smiled, you knew it was genuine, “I’m damn near 30. This isn’t even the most expensive car I’ve had this happen to. Don’t worry about a thing, pups. ‘Sides, I shoulda been watching you closer. Blame the teacher, not the student.”

The words were like warm lavender winds brushing away your damp and dead leaves. You offered to pay for the expenses, not daring to mention how it would clear out your savings. Meian waved a hand, “Nah. I got it. I make more than enough to cover this plus some.”

“Then why are you a rental boy-“

“-Help me push it, will ya?” He interrupted, not wanting to admit that it was because of a bet with his troublesome teammate.

You tried to put the car into neutral as per his instructions the best you could, jogging to the back to join him in pushing. You had to admit, the view of his arms working and him pushing a vehicle was a sight to behold. 

All the two of you did was push it to the side of the road, so no cars could hit it. You leaned on the rail protecting traffic from tipping off into the waters below while Meian called the company to explain what happened.

When he hung up, he went to put the phone in his pocket, but the sight of you stopped him. You sat on the rail, facing the ocean at sunset. The cardigan you wore slid just below your shoulders and the cool breeze tousled locks so gracefully. A ghosting feeling went through his fingers as they yearned to be the wind. He snapped a photo in landscape mode.

You turned, brushing hair back around your ear and smiled to him. He snapped another photo and you gestured to him to the spot next to you. He did, leaning his forearms on the cold metal, “Hope ya don’t mind.”

“That you took photos? I mean… I thought it was against the rules. Just ahh…. Hm. Send them to me through the app? Can you do that?”

“Think so, yeah. You looked good. Cold, but good,” The words were said as the photos were sent. You saved them with a bashful thanks.

“Since the date’s almost up, my friend’s coming to get me. Will you be okay?” You glanced down to him, leaning forward as you added pressure to the bar at your toes, keeping you from falling.

“I’ll be just fine. Gotta wait for a tow,” He paused and moved to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to lean into him, “Makin’ me anxious leanin’ like that.” His husky laugh was whisked with ocean breeze. You followed, reveling in the warmth. He liked that you were comfortable enough to accept the gesture. It’s what boyfriends did, right? Even if they weren’t real. Even if reality settled wrong in his stomach.

“The ocean’s so pretty,” You’ve always admired how the waves soaked up the sun’s colors. Oil paintings you’ve made throughout your life a testament to that love.

Meian glanced at you, then the horizon, “Yeah, but I’ve seen better.”

“If I rent you again, take me to ‘better’,” You giggled, missing the look in his eyes and the meaning of his words. Your phone rang, “Oh! That’s my friend, they’re here now - across the street!” Head tilted back, you looked up to him, “Thank you for teaching me how to drive and I really am sorry about the car. I wish I knew how to help.”

“Not a problem, pups. Rate me good. That’s help enough.”

His arms felt empty when you left them.

He checked his phone and saw that once the time struck, the contact was erased automatically. Meian sighed, scrolling through the next few clients he had lined up - his last few dates, he decided. With good tips, he still had a good shot at the win, anyway.

“How’d this one go hot stuff? No throwing up?” There was nonchalant concern in the question. 

You sat back heavily, “No throwing up. I learned how to drive stick shift, though. Then broke the car..”

“You didn’t have to pay for that, right? Those cars are outrageously expensive, ‘specially from those rental places.”

“No, he said he made enough to cover it, weirdly enough.”

“Huh. Well that’s nice of him.,” You friend commented, “Wonder what he does.”

“Me too,” You thought about Shoyo and the up-scale restaurants he took you to, “Me too.” 

“Wait, didn’t he offer you a jacket? That was the whole purpose of the shorts! What a dick!”

Tag List: @flattykawadoorusmilkbread​ 

[ohana]

When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize (Cobra Kai Secret Santa)

I'm probably ten thousand hours early because I'm on the wrong continent but still.

Here is my entry for the Cobra Kai Secret Santa hosted by @cobrakaisecretsanta​ (thank you thank you thank you) for @trashmouth-writes

The request from trashmouth-writes was "Definitely anything with pouty johnny with super lovey dovey Daniel" And it seemed nice to write something Christmas and a bit silly. I hope you like it (if you don't like it, please lie to me)

Summary

 "Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

In which Johnny starts to receive an advent calendar from a mysterious admirer.

Lawrusso, of course.

On AO3 too, here.

When you looked me in the eyes, you finally made me recognize

He remembers his first Christmas with Ali. The party, the people, Ali's red dress that she hated but her grandmother wanted her wear (she was beautiful and he hadn't even told her). His mother's laugh and how she kissed his cheek and said that they were such a beautiful couple. Sid saying "You are doing good, kid", maybe for the first time of their life together as family, and "Merry Christmas."

He doesn't remember Robby's first Christmas. He wasn't there. Shannon has sent him a Christmas card, a photo of her and Robby smiling together with some silly hats and "prick" scribbled over the big tree.

He wonders if Robby remembers the Christmas when he was there or it was too late.

He never thinks about the Christmas after the All Valley Tournament. He dreams about it sometimes. Kreese's hands on his neck, LaRusso's face disfigured with pain after Johnny hit him in the leg, the trophy, Bobby's phone calls that he kept not answering and all the "Johnny, open the door" of his mother, the Christmas eve at the beach alone.

It's not that he hates Christmas. He just doesn't care about it.

He doesn't buy chocolate. Damn most of the time he even forgets to buy real food, let alone chocolate (less often than in the past, to be honest. Maybe because Robby sleeps at his house a couple of nights a week, maybe because he's getting old and he can't live only drinking beers, maybe because LaRusso sends him stupid text from the supermarket reminding him to buy green stuff as if they were in a comedy from the 1950s). Anyway. He doesn't buy chocolate that is the main reason why now he's been sitting in his office at Cobra Kai in front of a bag of chocolates for half an hour without knowing what to do. He lifts them up, studies them a bit as if he suddenly could tell if they are poisoned. He googles them too, because now he's the kind of nerd who uses the internet. He writes "scams chocolates" but finds nothing.

He hears a key in the lock and footsteps.

"Diaz!"

Miguel overlooks at the door. His footsteps are still uncertain every now and then but in the last year he has made so much progress that if Johnny celebrated his thanksgiving day his first thank you would be for that kid.

"Yes, Sensei?"

Johnny points to the chocolates.

"Are these yours?"

Diaz looks puzzled. "Er ... no?"

"No, are you sure?" He says. Like a good teacher, like someone ready to listen to his students and not yell at them. "You can tell me."

Diaz looks even more puzzled. "Still no, sorry." He thinks for a second "Why should I have put some chocolates in your office?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why should I put them here?"

"Because it's your office?"

Johnny shrugs. "They're not mine."

Miguel walks over to him and checks the desk as if he were a fucking detective. "Was there nothing attached? No note? A receipt? Nothing?"

"Of course there was nothing attached, Mr. Diaz! I would have noticed it!" he says waving the bag that in that exact moment drops a small piece of paper. They both watch it as it gently flutters across the desk and if someone walks in at that moment and sees them he will immediately think they are father and son. Which is the truth even if it isn't.

"It's a one!" Miguel screams as if he has solved the mystery.

"I know dummy, I can read. Why is there a piece of paper with a one written on it?"

"Oh." He says, sadly "I don't know."

They stare at the chocolates and the paper for a few seconds.

Miguel takes the bag in his hand. "They look good, fancy. Not something you'll find at the store, mh?"

"How long is it until the next lesson, Diaz?" He asks him.

"At least half an hour."

"Do you want a chocolate?"

The next day in front of Cobra Kai's door there is a bottle of rum with a bow, a number two written on a card and a pretentious brochure explaining how to pair chocolate with rum. He looks around and when he doesn't see anyone that could reclaim it he takes it in his office and then at home. He doesn't have any chocolate left because the self restrain is not his best attribute but the rum tastes quite good anyway. He is freezing and it makes him feel warm.

He talks about it with LaRusso the next saturday. Until that day he received an Anthrax t-shirt and a pack of artisanal mini pizzas.

"Are you sure they're for you? Maybe someone got the wrong address and you're stealing some Christmas presents!" LaRusso suddenly comes alive and starts hopping like he always does when he's excited about something (it's not that he really hops, he just moves faster. Not that Johnny pays any attention to it. Because he doesn't.) "Maybe you're the Grinch of a family that lives near Cobra kai! "

"LaRusso the chocolates were inside my office, a bit too much for a wrong address don't you think?" and then "Who the fuck is the Grinch?"

From LaRusso's scandalized expression, this is not the right thing to say. What a surprise.

"Okay, no wrong addresses. Did you ask Robby? Maybe he ordered them on amazon?"

"Hey we don't do these things in our house, that dark web shit."

"What?!"

"Anyway, why are we here?" They are walking through home improvement stores. Near them only mothers with children, families, people who laugh and joke and talk and Johnny hates them all.

"You know why we are here. We are here because, as I wrote you, I have to buy a Christmas tree." (and I didn't want to go alone, he is about to say. But he doesn't say that. And I wanted to go with you, he thinks. But he doesn't say that either.)

"And you didn't go with Amanda ... why?"

"Because you don't go with your ex-wife to buy a Christmas tree for your new bachelor flat. We're not that civilized."

"I don't understand why you need a Christmas tree anyway." Daniel shows him a tree topper full of ribbons and ruffles and things that shouldn't be in any straight person's apartment. Or in general. "Put that thing down or am I going to have to kick you."

"Mh, and who knows how it would end ..." but he is smiling and there is a tone of complicity in his voice. "I don't want Sam and Anthony to come to my house for the holidays and see a bachelor loft, I want them to see a tree and some presents and decorations. They're already going through divorce and everything, I want at least my home to be normal, cozy." Then a sigh. "Besides, I like Christmas."

"Why? Christmas is just people who don't like each other together and presents that you'll not like."

Daniel bursts out laughing and throws a punch at him. Johnny tries to see nothing in that gesture, in that intimacy. "Oh my god, you really are the fucking Grinch, Johnny Lawrence. I just don't know. I just like it. Maybe because I'm a father and when they were little Christmas was the most magical time of the year for the kids. I don't know...I like waiting for presents, I like lights, I like people, I like the warmth."

"Pffff. If you say so."

"How about this?" LaRusso indicates a tree, not too big, not too naked(Johnny is convinced that in reality in LaRusso hates all the minimalist things he buys, all the apartments with dove gray walls and gray furniture and just pretend because  c'mon, just think about how he dressed as a kid there is nothing beige in that man).

"Looks ok." He thinks about it for a moment. "Now do you also want me to help you find some mistletoe to hang around the house or are we finally ready to go?"

"Considering that the only person who walks through the door of my house, apart from my children, is you, should I take that as a suggestion?"

And Johnny nearly risks a head-on against a Christmas tree.

LaRusso is still laughing as they walk out of the shop with bags full of Christmas baubles.

(It wasn't a suggestion, of course. Why would he suggest something like that? They don't have that kind of relationship. There would be no reason to kiss under the mistletoe. Or kissing in general. Obviously. Fuck it. He doesn't think about anything else all night. Fuck it.)

In the end it's Hawk that explains everything.

Miguel and the other students are outside Cobra Kai sharing a couple of beers that Johnny is pretty sure they shouldn't drink but since he found them at the door fuck it. They are triple malt, from a microbrewery and the cap does not even unscrew but they don't really suck.

Hawk lifts one of the bottles, looks at the number on it and then as if it were the most natural thing in the world he asks. "Sensei, did you buy yourself a craft beer advent calendar?"

"Huh?" Says Johnny.

"An advent calendar."

"Huh?" Miguel asks.

"How is it possible that the boy with the Jewish grandparents has to explain to you what an advent calendar is?" And since they don't seem to understand, he continues. "On this bottle there is the number seven, today is December 7th. Were there another six bottles of beer?"

"No." Miguel replies sadly.

"No?"

"But there were six other gifts, each with a number attached to it." Johnny corrects him.

"One a day!" Adds Miguel.

"So it's an advent calendar. One surprise a day until Christmas."

Oh.

"Except if he didn't buy it himself, some chick must have bought it for him. Not bad for an old man, Sensei!"

The kids start speculating about who might have given it to him and looking at all possible advent calendars on their smartphones.

Johnny walks away as a high-pitched voice speaks of "Merry cheesemas". When he gets home he throws the remaining beers in the garbage and turns off the television when the usual Christmas movie appears.

"I think it's a trap" He says to LaRusso the next monday.

"What?" LaRusso looks lost. He is wearing a big scarf but his nose is still a bit red and he looks, Johnny would rather die than say it out loud, cute.

"The gifts with the numbers on it."

"The Advent Calendar?"

Why everyone knows what an advent calendar is?

Johnny nods.

"Is the advent calendar a trap?"

Now Johnny seems like an idiot. Which is not. Definitely.

"These ones?"

LaRusso shakes his head as Johnny points to some plant shears. He hands him an even bigger pair.

"These are more suitable for outdoor bonsai. They won't rust if you don't dry them well after disinfecting them. They are slightly more expensive but last a lifetime." His eyes sparkle when he talks about his stupid plants. Johnny hates him a little.

"A little more expensive?" He looks at the price tag. "I could buy him a real tree with the price, not these miniature trees that you short people like."

LaRusso snorts "But Robby doesn't want a tree for Christmas." He stops for a second lost in his thoughts "If they're too expensive I can contribute, I'd love to." And even if it costs him to admit it, Johnny knows that he is sincere in this. LaRusso is an asshole, a hothead, he believes himself better than others and he can never shut up but he is generous, he really likes to do things for others. Johnny hates him a little.

"Give them to me." He takes the scissors and puts them in the basket. "Anyway, yes the advent calendar. I think it's a scam or a trap. Someone is trying to fuck with me."

"Giving you gifts?" When LaRusso's voice rises an octave he seems to be still sixteen. "Why?"

"What the fuck do I know? Why do people do things? Maybe it's one of your mortal enemies who wants to screw me. Maybe it's Terry Silver."

"We're not talking about Terry Silver." It is true. But they talked about him. One evening in that confused space of time when everything was going to hell, in which while Johnny's life, the Cobra Kai and LaRusso's marriage were falling apart, they found a way of their own to communicate. They found their own dimension.

"Maybe someone you pissed off." He replies.

"Someone that I pissed off? And why would someone I pissed off try to screw you? By giving you gifts by the way? Besides, I think you piss off enough people on your own."

"Pfff. In any case, I threw everything in the garbage. Nobody can fool me like that."

They keep walking into the plant shop.

"Johnny, have you ever thought that maybe someone is simply giving you gifts? Like to make you happy?"

That night when he gets home he takes the panettone and the Zebra bootleg out of the garbage. They are both pretty good.

On Thursday in the advent calendar, he gave up and decided to call it that, he found a small radio. It's the miniature version, with a USB port (Miguel tells him), of the Ali's one that he broke on the beach. Even the songs included are the same ones he listened to at that time. That evening when a Christmas movie is being shown on television, he waits ten minutes before changing the channel.

"I think it's Ali." He tells LaRusso when they meet up the next day for a couple of beers and some Chinese food (for Johnny, LaRusso insists on eating that awful raw fish that costs more than cooked fish and tastes like sea).

"What?"

"I think Ali made the advent calendar for me." and then because LaRusso doesn't seem to understand he tells him about the Zebra bootleg, about how most of the surprises seem to come from someone who knows him well and obviously about the radio like the one Ali had.

LaRusso doesn't seem so sure. He stretches on the sofa, where they sat to watch The Grinch because according to Daniel it was not acceptable that Johnny had never seen him, and ventures "Johnny are you talking to Ali lately?"

"Not a word for thirty-something years."

"Then why should she send you an advent calendar? She doesn't even live in the same city as us."

Johnny sighs like he's dealing with an idiot. Which is fair. "Women can never forget someone like me."

"She left you! She hated you!" and then with his annoying voice "Oh don't get distracted this scene is particularly funny!" (it isn't)

Johnny ignores him. "She probably wanted to apologize to me in some way with that radio."

"But it was you who broke it!" and then in a low voice convinced that Johnny can't hear him "My God this guy is really an asshole."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being a little jealous. The fact that she didn't send you an advent calendar doesn't mean Ali didn't care about you, she just can't forget me. Try this guy once..."

Daniel throws candy canes in his face.

"Hey ... do you want to stay over?" LaRusso asks him when the film ends. "It's quite late and I don't know how much you've been drinking."

It's not particularly late and Johnny hasn't drunk more than on a normal day of the week. LaRusso's sofa bed isn't even particularly comfortable, even though the sheets always smell good and the pancakes he makes don't really suck (and he's even stopped insisting that Johnny try some kind of tea that tastes like pureed grass). There are Christmas on the front door, which he hates. He really has no reason to stay.

Johnny fakes a yawn. He stays.

The next morning he writes a message to Ali to thank her for the advent calendar on facebook.

He writes to LaRusso "To be honest the Grinch never hated the Christmas, he hated the people, which is fair."

Ali replies "Johnny, what are you talking about? Why should I give you a gift?"

LaRusso replies "You are such an ass. Do you want to help me decorate the tree tonight? "

"Of course I don't want it. Why? Are you too short to put the baubles on it?" He texts back.

"I have beers and we can try the new pizzeria around the corner."

He replies ""Okay but if you're going to put on that ridiculous sweater with the deer and the lights again, I'll have to fight you to get it off."

"It's a reindeer not a deer, for God's sake. And you have a funny way to try to undress your dates, Lawrence."

It's a joke of course. A lame one. It's not that he really wants to see LaRusso naked. Or that LaRusso is his date. (fuck fuck fuck)

He helps LaRusso with the Christmas tree. He doesn't even hate too much.

He doesn't text back to Ali.

After three more days of surprises in the advent calendar, he confronts Carmen.

She listens to him without saying a word but then her doubtful expression melts into a smile. It's a smile that Carmen reserves only for him and in which Johnny initially saw a lot of potential. He saw going out, a lot of sex, even a little romance. Now that the months have passed, including those in which Carmen didn't even speak to him at all, he has learned to see what is really behind that smile, that sweetness: family. They will never be in love but they will always be a family in some way.

"Johnny, my love these days I don't even have time to breathe at work, let alone prepare an advent calendar for someone." And then "Have you ever thought that there is someone else besides us who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny grumbles, replies by making silly allusions to some girl he's met and stuff like that. In front of Carmen's door, he finds himself thinking for the first time in months about his mother, about the way she always took care of him.

Carmen continues talking. "I heard that Robby will probably spend Christmas with his mom. We won't be home celebrating... Do you have someone to spend Christmas with? Otherwise we can try to organize something, I'm sure Miggy would like it."

Johnny thinks of the billionth text that LaRusso sent him to remind him to pack the gift for Robby.

"I'm okay." He replies.

The next day he finds an Atari console with Popeye on it in the advent calendar and it's a trip down memory lane. He liked video games when he was a kid, when he wasn't the popular guy at school yet. He liked listening to music, playing video games and forgetting Sid's remarks, the absence of a father, the lack of friends. Before, in a world where there was no karate, Kreese and Cobra Kai to get lost in. He had almost forgotten about those years, about that Johnny. He wonders what would happen to his life if he stayed that Johnny. Would Ali have stayed? (Or even more than that: would Ali notice and date someone like that Johnny?) Would the friends of the Cobra Kai want him? Would he have been a failure as a father? Would he and Daniel become friends? (he imagines: making lesson with Mr. Miyagi, play video games together, teach him to surf and stay to chill on the beach, listening some music with only one walkman, close, with legs touching)

When on December 18th he finds a portable mini golf (like the ones you see in B-movies, in the offices of successful managers) he invites LaRusso to his apartment to play with it only because he is unable to play something without turning it into a competition , in a fight. Not because he likes to see him. Daniel goes all "Oh" and "Thanks" when he sees that Johnny has put in the fridge all he needs for a martini cocktail and opens his giant brown doe eyes and Johnny doesn't know whether to feel like a shitty person or a fifteen year old on a first date. The only thing he's sure of is that he doesn't know what to do with these feelings. If he could he would kick them, fight them back to their corner because he's not sure he knows how to ignore them now that they're out. He is so angry. With himself, with LaRusso, with that stupid advent calendar and with Christmas too.

He kicks LaRusso's butt at portable mini golf and when it starts getting late he yawns and says he'll have to get up early the next day for some commitments. He doesn't offer LaRusso another drink, he doesn't ask him if he's too tired to stay. He falls asleep on the couch alone.

He goes out two nights in a row. At the bar a woman flirts with him. She is a hot babe, the kind of woman who might not listen to what she says (and who wouldn't listen to what Johnny says) but whose boobs he would surely remember. The kind of woman to have a drink and have a fuck with without either of them looking for more. It would be so easy, he thinks.

Miguel asks "Are you not going out with Mr.LaRusso tonight?" as if he was used to doing it every Sunday, after Daniel saw his kids.

In the advent calendar he finds a small cobra (a fake one, not a real cobra because it would be scary and...deadly probably) with a headband. Seeing the band on the cobra's head doesn't make him think of Ali for the first time in thirty-five years.

Daniel texts him. "Are you all right? Have you become the Grinch?"

He doesn't reply.

On the phone, a delivery boy asks for confirmation of the address to deliver the shopping for Christmas dinner with Robby. Dinner he obviously wouldn't have ordered had it been for him.

Daniel texts him "Remember to take the food out of the fridge two hours before the dinner."

He doesn't reply.

Daniel texts him. "Asshole." (Is he? Probably. Maybe he should have texted him "coward" it suited him more.)

Strike first strike first strike first.

The thing is: Johnny isn't an idiot. Of course he is an idiot in some way, but it's not really the point. He knows with every fiber of his body that this is probably the closest thing he will get to a relationship. Even to be in love. The problem is that everything Johnny knows about love is what he lived in a two-year relationship with a girl, with which he didn't even get along very well, when he was sixteen. After that nothing, he got stuck.

And then he doesn't know what to do with these feelings, he doesn't know how to match his idea of love (that of a sixteen year old with too many hormones, always too angry and so lost) with this sense of intimacy, with this warmth. He doesn't know how to explain  to the sixteen year old Johnny who came home angry and wanted to kick LaRusso's butt who maybe, maybe they could be in love with that ridiculous man in the deer sweaters who drives them crazy, makes them question all the choices of their lives and reminds them to buy tree scissors for their son and looks at them with those giant doe eyes that make their knees tremble.

Not to mention the tiny detail that that love may very well not be reciprocated because LaRusso is an idiot.

It would be so easy to strike first. Buy that girl a drink in the pub, turn off the phone, have a good fuck. It would be so easy.

Robby says "Thanks dad, they are great" when he opens the scissors.  Robby chews his food and says "It tastes amazing, a lot better than when you try to cook!" And then smiles, like a kid, like a young man ready to conquer the world, to open up to the world and not as a boy with whom his parents have failed many times, who has months of juvie behind him and a lot of therapy sessions to deal with. Johnny looks at him and he's so happy and he feels so bad that he doesn't deserve it that he just wants to punch something. Or drink too many beers and fall into a coma.

"Are you okay, dad?" Robby asks.

It would be so easy.

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.

("Asshole")

LaRusso is still in his pajamas pants when he opens the door. Since he and Amanda got divorced he has let his hair grow slightly and now they are all messed up on his head and he looks silly.

"I expected you were already dressed to go to work." Says to him.

LaRusso yawns and snorts. "I expected you to respond to my messages." but then adds with a note of concern in his voice "Are you okay? Did something happen with Robby?"

Johnny waves in front of him the replica of the All Valley tournament trophy, still partially wrapped, with the number 24 sticking out among the paper.

He reads aloud "World's second best sensei. You are such an arrogant prick."

LaRusso stares at him with a smug look and says "Well it takes one to know one." and  "I was referring to Mr. Miyagi, dumbass."

And now he's an asshole.

LaRusso bursts out laughing and Johnny seriously wants to beat him.

"" You ... You are impossible! You are so annoying and you do things like this and I can't stand you! ".

Daniel raises an eye brown. "It looks like you can, instead."

"And you can never shut up, you are unbearable! You get under my skin like some fungus! Nobody makes me feel like that."

Because it is true. He's not sure if he likes it but no one will ever make him feel that way. Nobody before, nobody after. In Johnny's life there will always be a before and after Daniel LaRusso. Not that he'll ever tell that prick who already thinks he's better than everyone else and definitely doesn't need someone to pump his ego even more.

"Hey, hasn't anyone ever taught you just to say thank you when someone gives you a gift?"

"No one has ever taught me a lot of things." And he thinks of Kreese.

LaRusso takes a step in his direction by invading his space and takes his hands (which are still holding the trophy so in reality the scene is more awkward than romantic).

"Yet you have learned so much anyway." He smiles at him, with a smile different from the one of the commercials, more open, more sincere. "And you're teaching a lot of right things to your students too. Under all that No Mercy bullshit you're teaching them a lot. It wasn't a joke, the trophy. I mean it."

Johnny thinks she could almost kiss him. Then he remembers one thing.

"How did you know about the Atari console? I didn't even know you when I was playing video games."

Daniel lights up, like a magician ready to reveal a trick to his audience. "That? Robby told me. Apparently you told him once when you were drunk and sad. He also told me which bootleg you were missing and helped me get some packages. I could have asked Miguel probably but Sam says he can't keep a secret to save his life and I didn't want to risk him revealing my identity. Of course I couldn't think you thought of Ali first than me. He laughs, his eyes shine. "Anyway I could have asked a lot of people. You may not know but there are a lot of people who care about you and would like to make you happy. When you are not busy being an asshole or pushing others away because you are scared it's very easy to care for you, Johnny Lawrence. "

"Have you ever thought that there is someone who wants to make you happy?"

Johnny pins him against the front door and kisses him and for a moment LaRusso freezes and doesn't reciprocate and Johnny thinks he shall punch him because there is no possibility that he has misread this situation. Then Daniel melts into the kiss and kisses him back and it's the opposite of what he imagined when he was sixteen. It's not a battle, it's meeting halfway. It's not a fight, it's peace, it's like coming home and finding a new home at the same time.

Daniel starts laughing in the kiss and Johnny is forced to pull back slightly before he can suffocate and die which wouldn't be a very bright way to start this phase of his life.

"What now?"

LaRusso smiles as if he has discovered some secret and murmurs on his neck "You didn't need the mistletoe at the end."

Johnny sighs because he is an idiot and then kisses him again. He feels giddy, happy.

Daniel budges away from him, without breaking the embrace.

"You know, under these pajamas pants I have some Christmas boxers with a reindeer." He raises an eyebrow "I'm telling you because maybe, maybe you still want to fight me to make me take them off like you did with the sweater."

"Has this atrocious line ever worked with anyone?"

"I don't know, is it working?"

Johnny opens the door "Let's go inside."

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Homeboy

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 19 | Part 20 Homeboy | Part 21 >

Disclaimer: Bit of boyish teasing and making out in the kitchen

Author’s note: 🎶CAnnnnn you feeeel the love tonighttttt 🎶- I woke up with the most suitable song for this chapter in my head. Good morning everyone! 

Word count: 2.164

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

In previous relationships big topics like; Will this last? Or; Do you want to settle down or just test the water? - were the kind of conversations I barely had until much later in the relationship. People these days have so many options when it comes to dating that speaking of things that even remotely feel like true commitment, are pushed away for at least the first few months. A simple brush over the topic of kids is fun. But what if that topic can’t wait? And if your date is okay with all that, what will people around you think?

Now, I praise myself the luckiest of Alice’s, because my chocolate cake is daddy material by every meaning of the word. And I mean..every meaning of the word - I know you’re reading this chocolate cake. And I’m glad I can confide in all things of the heart, even if was pretty scary to bring up such topics as mentioned earlier.

So, now here we are; now what? Just..go for it? Or..still go the traditional route? Being the odd ball for so long I don’t really feel like we should be bending too much to the expectations of the people around us, and yet I care about their opinions and fears all the same.

It is, dear readers, time for the talk.

Are you ready chocolate cake?

Ali

‘Don’t worry.’ Henry sniffled, feeling my hand near squishing his hand from the nerves that were working through my system. We were having dinner with both our parents. Not a completely weird thing really, especially since they were such very good neighbours, but the true reason for inviting them both for dinner at this cute seaside restaurant wasn’t just for neighbourly affairs. And I was one to totally overthink the whole situation and make myself crazy in the head for it.

Was it too soon? 

‘There they are.’ Henry smiled and got up from his chair, waving happily at his mom, whom was followed by Colin, her husband and both my parents. Such good neighbours they even travelled together. Swallowing back the rest of my nerves I also moved my chair back and got up, my hands quickly rubbing off my clammy palms on my dress.

‘Oh sweet babies! You look so good.’ Marianne beamed, instantly moving to rearrange Henry’s stubborn curl that always tended to flop back over his forehead. ‘Momm..’ He softly grumbled, making his father laugh heartily. ‘Mitchel was just talking about this new hair growing shampoo he got..so who knows..next up she’ll be doing it with him too hahahah.’ - ‘Oi Colin! No need to share ‘em secrets just yet. I thought it’d be a fancy little surprise for summer. Me..long flowing hair..a fantastic beard..’ My dad rubbed his hand expectantly over his balding head and we all laughed.

‘Sit down, sit down. Please.’ Henry smiled, gesturing at the chairs around the table and before long we were all seated and a first glass of wine was poured. Beneath the table I could feel Henry’s slightly nervously shifting leg against mine, our hands closely entangled. It was a relief to know he was just as nervous. It all seemed silly, but still. We loved our parents and it mattered what they thought and felt. 

From the look on my mom’s face I knew that she knew - not that it surprised me, she practically always seemed to eavesdrop. Then my dad, whom was still joking about with Colin. And Marianne, her eyes piercing into mine, lips casually sipping on her wine. She raised an eyebrow and I swallowed.

But, before I had even gathered the courage to speak up, Henry had already taken the lead, his warm voice breaking up the banter between our two dads. ‘Mom, dad, Mitchel, Elaine.’ He smiled. ‘Thank you so much for joining us.-‘ ‘Always son!’ Colin beamed, raising his glass. ‘Thanks dad haha. Uhm..’ He looked at me, his eyes lovingly searching mine. ‘We are both so very glad to have you as our parents..and see you get along so well. It makes it easier for us to..’

‘ARE YOU GETTING MARRIED?!’ My mom blurted out, already squeezing her hands in excitement before Henry could even finish his sentence. Okay, scratch my previous assumption: mom had no clue. Henry blinked at my mom, then burst out laughing. I felt my cheeks flush up bright red.

OH MOM..please..for the love of god. Be-HAVE.

I wish I could just melt into my seat, disappear from the others amused smiles. Especially Marianne’s, her charming blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

‘Hahah..well..Elaine, though I absolutely intend to..ask your daughter that some day..’ He widened his eyes. ‘..perhaps first things first.’ He looked back at me and sniffled as I gave my mom a most exasperated look. ‘We are actually planning on moving in together.’

‘Oh..’ My mom gulped, then chuckled, her hand quickly reaching for her glass of wine. ‘..and babies?’ She said softly, almost teasingly, before quickly taking a sip.

‘MOMMM.’ I gasped, making her chuckle like a giddy schoolgirl. ‘Oh please..’ She raised her wine glass for a toast. ‘..do not mind me. It’s the wine.’ She winked at Marianne who laughed in turn, both women clinking glasses together.

‘Incorrigible..’ Henry murmured, sniffling ever so slightly as we watched both our dads and moms having equal fun and loving banter.

After Marianne and my mom put down their glasses again, Marianne scraped her throat, her brow furrowed in thought. ‘I eh..actually heard the Jones’s are moving out.’ She said casually, looking at Colin who nodded due-fully at his wife. ‘Correct.’ He hummed. ‘It’s a nice house, too.’ She smiled at me and Henry.

The hint was clear; the Jones’s house was just another 200 meters further up the road from where both our parents lived. Henry smiled at me and I felt my heart do another swift and fluttery somersault. Would he like that? Living so close to..? I mean..it wasn’t like we couldn’t stand our parents. We loved them, truly. I could have probably easily found a new apartment by now - but I didn’t. He could have been in his Mews home - but he wasn’t.

‘We could take a look.’ I nodded slowly at Henry, to which his smile only grew. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

—

‘So..yea..we got the house!’ Henry smiled at Piers, the oldest of the Cavill sons munching away on some Christmas chocolates while nodding in shared enthusiasm. ‘Twats gwreaat.’ He mumbled with a full mouth, making Marianne swat his arm. The rest of the family looked up for a moment, some smiling, others mere raising an amused eyebrow.

No matter how old the boys would get, they would always remain boys in the eyes of their mother.  

I snickered and snuggled into Henry’s chest, watching the rest return to their conversation. Piers, Simon, their wives and kids had all joined for Christmas dinner, and though I had often heard Henry talk about such events, it was quite special to be a part of it for the first time. I had known these boys from when they could barely walk and talk, so it was all the more fun to see how, despite having grown up, they still had some quirks from their childhood selves.

Henry being overbearingly caring for everyone. Piers forgetting his manners whenever good food was around. Simon always having to go the bathroom when dinner was just about ready. Some things never change. And others? I looked at Henry, his eyes quickly peeking back at me. Some things do change.

We had survived our summer fling. For the first time ever.

‘So what’s next hmm?’ Simon intermingled into the conversation, him and his wife situated at the couch opposite of ours, the fireplace on our left, his right. ‘Well eh..’ Henry started, but was soon interrupted by Piers. ‘Come on then Henners! House, wife, kids, it’s no secret you want that, huh?’ He teased, poking his younger brother in his ribs. Henry flinched slightly, giving his mom a look that screamed; “Please mom, make them stop”.

But Marianne only sniffled, hiding behind her glass of red wine and watching her kids go about like the good old days. Yes, some things don’t change indeed.

Henry sighed and looked back at me again, the other two clinking their glasses as if celebrating victory - a moment in which they missed the silent glimmer of sadness that suddenly had taken a hold of Henry’s eyes. I felt my stomach flip, not in a good way, and sat up a little. Henry swallowed and quickly made a smile reappear on his lips when his two older brothers sank back down in their seats.

I quickly emptied my wine glass and scraped my throat. ‘I eh..am going to fetch us a new bottle of wine. Anyone anything else?’ I looked around but everyone seemed content enough as it is, even the kids not wishing for more hot coco like I half expected. Only Colin shot up; ‘Oh I can do it too dear, please!’ - ‘Oh no. Please Colin. I’m sure Henry can help me out, right?’ I looked over my shoulder at Henry and he got the hint, also sitting up a bit. ‘Yes, why of course. Ladies first.’ He gestured me to proceed into the hallway.

—

Moving into the kitchen, Kal hot on our heels (expecting food), Henry sighed, his arms circling around me even before we could make it to the cellar. Without words needed I curled into the warmth of his arms, feeling his head dip down to rest in the crook of neck. I was feeling all kinds of worried at that moment. Was something wrong? Did I miss some signs? Did I..-?

‘I already can’t stand the idea of having to miss you again.’ He whispered, hugging me even tighter into his chest.

And then I realised what this was about. After Christmas he had to fly out to shoot a new movie again. This time all the way over in Canada. And we still had to wait for the full green light on my hiatus as my employer was looking into a number of candidates, whom were right now writing a test assignment to see if this could work. In the worst case I would have to miss Henry for 3,5 months. About as long as we were together right now.

And that idea was terrifying.

Quietly I wrapped my arms tightly around his chest, willing him to feel that I wasn’t going anywhere. That we were doing this. Together.

‘I just feel so bad for being the cause of all ..this..’ He swallowed in the last of his words, sighing harshly. ‘Hen..baby. We can do this okay. See it as some kind of ultimate test for our relationship. If we can survive this, we can survive anything.’ I leaned back a little to look into his eyes. He nodded, moving his head to rest our foreheads together.

‘At least after this shoot my year will be less busy.’

‘Yea.’ I whispered. ‘Thanks for inviting me for Christmas by the way. I hope your brothers aren’t giving you their worst.’ I snickered quietly. Henry sniffled. ‘They’re my brothers. It’s their sole duty to give me their worst. And I love them all the same.’ We both chuckled. Even now I couldn’t quite imagine what it must have been like to grow up with four brothers. I had no brothers or sisters, so whenever I wanted to play as a kid I’d come over to the Cavill’s. A real manly household at that; burping contests, dirty laundry piling way up high, building tree huts with rusty nails.

And poor Marianne trying to keep all of us in check.

’You have lovely brothers - albeit a bit of a teasing bunch every now and then.’ I moved my head back a bit again. ‘Are you okay to go back in there or do you need another..?’

‘Just..’ He captured my lips for a brief, though passionate kiss. ‘..a little moment.’

I hummed in amusement, basking in the warmth of his embrace. ‘That hiatus better be approved …soon.’

‘Yea..It BETTER be.’ He smiled, diving in for a far less family-approved kiss.

‘IEEWWWLLL.’ One of Henry’s nephews had apparently come in to check on us and we both gave him a teasing look.

‘What? Can’t adults kiss?’ Henry chided, making the poor teen roll his eyes in utter disgust.

‘You guys are SOO gross.’ The boy shuddered, quickly moving past us to fetch the cookie jar. Also like the old days. Henry wrapped his arm around me to press one more kiss, albeit far more chaste this time, on my lips. ‘I love you.’ He whispered, just loud enough for the poor teen to shudder even louder.

‘GROSSSSSS.’ He said with utter disgust, quickly fleeing the kitchen before he’d have to see anymore of this sappy adult-stuff.

Henry and I both chuckled.

‘I love you too, silly.’ I winked, then felt Kal push his head in my hand, refusing to be left out after all this making out between his humans. ‘And you three!’  

--

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[loserslibrary]

pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier [Reddie], Stanley Uris/Patricia Blum Uris [Stanpat], Mike Hanlon/Bill Denbrough [Hanbrough] & Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh [Benverly]  written by: Ashley rating: Teen word count:  2,905 prompt: from @ticomat​ “Ok, so, for a prompt, how about the Losers having a Dinner night in which all pairings have big news they planned to tell the others, and end up collectively stealing each others thunder?”

Eddie knew that he and Richie were the boring friends. They had been for years, and Eddie supposed that was normal. When you’ve been in a serious, committed relationship since… well, forever, it seemed only natural that they wouldn’t have as many crazy stories as their friends. Especially since Richie had been banned from telling sex stories. Eddie didn’t mind, he was never bored with Richie, and he much preferred the most adventurous part of his month being he and Richie trying a new brand of pasta sauce that gave Richie stomach cramps over failed Tinder dates or coworkers setting him up on blind dates with horrible, poorly smelling people. 

Eddie and Richie have been together officially since he turned sixteen, but they’d practically been together for years before that. They’d had their rough spots like any other couple; choosing colleges had been one of the lowest points that Eddie could remember and he still sometimes felt sick when thinking about how close he and Richie had come to ending things when it came down to New York City vs Los Angeles. Richie had crawled through his bedroom window, crying and swearing to go to with him to New York City- or “wherever the fuck in the world he wants to go”- and Eddie couldn’t imagine them ever living anywhere else.

So, no. Eddie didn’t feel any lack luster in his life and he didn’t envy his friends’ wild stories whenever they got together the past couple of years. As they rapidly approached their thirties, Eddie was more than content with being settled down and married. Job he liked, financial stability, a loving husband in a surprisingly spacious New York apartment. It was more than Eddie had ever thought he’d be able to have growing up, and he wouldn’t trade it up for all the dating scene moments in the world. He wasn’t sure why anybody would. 

There was, admittedly, one thing in his life that he and Richie had been discussing. Something that could only make things even more perfect. And tonight, Eddie was sure that he and Richie would finally have the most exciting news at the reunion table. 

“You sure you want to tell them?” Richie asked, rubbing his hands between Eddie’s shoulder blades as Eddie used the mirror to do up his tie. Dressing up to Richie was a button up shirt with jeans that didn’t have rips in the knees or thighs, but Eddie always tried to go that extra mile when they were going out for a meal. Especially one that felt as important as this one.

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie said, finishing up the tie and pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek. “I know that maybe we should wait until we have more news but- the Losers are as much family as your mom and dad, Rich. I want them to know.”

Richie smiled and pulled Eddie in for a quick kiss, and rubbed their noses together as he pulled back. “Alright, then I guess we better get going then. Bev is going to talk our ears off the second she sees us. Since the dweeb skipped Christmas.”

“I’m sure that her finishing the designs for her first leading collection  was more important than our Boxing Day dinner.” 

“You sound just like her.” Richie swung his car keys around his fingers as Eddie slipped into his jacket. “You’re such a sham, Edward Spaghetti Kaspbrak. You don’t need a jacket from here to the freakin’ car. You just wanna show off your nice threads to our friends when we get there.”

Eddie buttoned up the jacket up and beamed at Richie. “So what if I do? My husband has a big fancy Saturday Night Live job now, so I can spend my salary on whatever I want. Jackets included.”

Richie rolled his eyes and guided Eddie out of their apartment door. “Yeah.” He said in a soft voice. “For now.” Eddie never thought he’d be so happy to have financial restrictions.

Bill and Mike were already sitting around the table when Eddie and RIchie were shown to the Losers’ usual table. “Hey guys!” Richie half-jogged over to them as Eddie thanked their hostess. He tossed an arm around Bill’s shoulders and tugged him into his side. “Mikey, I swear you get hotter every time I see you. How do you do it?” 

Bill yanked away from Richie and punched him in the side. Richie made a loud, wounded noise and Eddie came over to give him a patronizing pat on the cheek. “Hush.” He said softly, before smiling at their friends. “How was Florida?”

Bill and Mike exchanged small looks that made alarm bells start ringing in the back of Eddie’s mind, but they both quickly replaced the looks with smiles. “It was amazing!” Mike said happily, waving towards the entry of their private room as Stan came in with Patty on his arm. 

Stan had started dating Patricia Blum about three years earlier, and she had been an instant click with their tight knit group. It was rare for anybody to connect with the other Losers so quickly, more often than not the Losers’ partners found their little group hard to fit into. Patty hadn’t been like that, thankfully. She and Richie had been practically best friends by the end of their first meeting. 

This was made apparent again, as Richie launched himself from Bill’s side and rushed through the little room to scoop Patty up in his arms and spin her around. 

“I swear, Richard.” Stan rolled his eyes but there was smile spreading across his face. “We saw you not even two months ago.”

“Awwe.” Richie cooed, putting Patty back on the ground and moved to kiss Stan hard on the head. “You know me, Manly Stanny. I’m like a dog, waiting for you to get back from work. Very over excited when you come back inside because you forgot your keys.” 

Stan chuckled at Richie’s awkward analogy and flicked him in the face. “Yeah, you’re a big oversized lap dog. I don’t know how Eddie puts up with you.”

Eddie walked over and wrapped his arms around Richie’s mid section and stuck his tongue out at Stan. 

“I told you we’d be the last ones here.” Ben said, quickly undoing his scarf and giving everybody a forced smile. “Sorry, sorry! Somebody claimed the traffic wouldn’t be that bad.”

“Don’t blame me!” Beverly said, swooping into the room in all her usual beauty. She pressed a kiss to Mike and Bill’s cheeks before turning to look at Ben with her arms on her hips. “I live in New York! I don’t drive. I take the subway like any self respecting New Yorker.”

“I’ll drink to that!” Richie cheered, despite none of them having ordered any drinks yet. The group all started moving towards the big round table, chattering amongst themselves. Richie bumped his hip against Patty’s and grinned at her.

“Take your hand out of your pocket, baby doll.” Richie whispered in her ear. Patty turned him, cheeks turning a little pink even under the red tinge of the dining room. She just shook her head and Richie leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Well, congratulations. Even though I’m not supposed to know.” 

Patty smiled to herself, and reached out to grasp Stan’s hand under the table with her own. Richie couldn’t hide his own grin as Eddie took the empty seat next to him. Never one to disguise his affections, Richie leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 

Beverly made overly loud gagging noises and Richie rolled his eyes lovingly at her. “Cram it, Marsh. Let me love on my husband!” 

“Oh I’m sure that you smother Eddie enough in the privacy of your own home.” Bill said with a chuckle. 

“It’s not smothering!” Eddie shot to him, before pressing an almost rough kiss to Richie’s stubbly cheek. He immediately pulled away and wiped his hand across his mouth. “Oh god, Richard, you need to shave. I’m not going to keep kissing you if it feels like rubbing my face against sandpaper.”

Richie tossed his head back and cackled, wrapping an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him against him. Eddie whacked at his chest lightly, and Richie kissed him on top of the head.

“Truly disgusting.” Bill said with a roll of his eyes. “But enough of Dad and Dad’s domestic crap. How have you guys been. Some of us haven’t seen each other since the summer.”

“How targeted.” Beverly laughed, pouring a glass of water from the pitcher in the middle of the table. “But I’ll admit, I actually do have some news since the last time I saw you guys. And before you ask, no, it’s not about my new line so you don’t have to pretend to understand what I’m talking about.”

There was a moment of relief around the table, as they all smiled at their childhood female friend. Even after they’d started having more women in their group, Patty, or Bev’s roommate from college Kay, or Bill’s ex-girlfriend Audra whom he was still friendly with, they’d never really joined forces with anybody who was on Beverly’s level with clothes or trends. The closest was probably Richie- and only because with his career, he has to at least attempt to keep up.

Beverly reached out and tangled her hands with Ben’s on the top. Eddie looked at Richie from the corner of his eye, getting a raised eyebrow in return. Ben and Beverly had been having the ultimate will they or won’t they story in the history of the world, tracing back all the way to the eighth grade. They’d dated off and on all throughout high school, somehow always finding some sort of reason to break up, and then another to get back together. Two years earlier, they had rekindled the high school relationship and the Losers had been sure that they were going to be in it for the long haul this time. Then Ben’s job had promoted him six months into the relationship, sending him to live in Chicago, and they had broken it off once again. Not feeling as though the long distance could work for them. Though the two years had passed since then, the Losers could all tell that the feelings still lingered. Would possibly always linger between them. It was one of the few things that they all knew better than to interfere with. 

Ben smiled sheepishly, rubbing his thumb along the back of Beverly’s hand. “My company are starting a new project to create affordable living in New York City. They want me to head up the project.” His sheepish smile broke into a full blown grin. “I’m moving back. For good.”

The table erupted into cheers, which were quickly and embarrassingly quieted when the waitress came to take their drink orders. As she left, the gang all turned their attention back to Ben and Beverly, whose hands were still clasped together on the table. 

“So…” Richie sang, wagging his eyebrows. “Somebody’s gotta address the elephant in the room-”

“Jesus, Rich.” Bill groaned, though his voice hinted at laughter.

“Are you guys gonna be New York’s Next Hottest Couple or what?” Richie barrelled over top of Bill as though he hadn’t spoken. 

Ben and Beverly glanced at each other, stars in their eyes, before Beverly looked back at Richie and nodded. “That was my news. Ben and I are back together- and we’re moving in together.”

Softer, but no less enthusiast, cheers broke out then. Mike reached over and clasped Ben on the shoulder. The other man’s face had turned a bright red under the attention, always a shy boy deep in his heart, and started waving the others off. “Thank you guys! Really! But Mike and Bill! How was Florida?”

“Yeah!” Beverly jumped onto Ben’s attempts to deflect. “We want to hear all about it!” 

Bill cleared his throat. “It was great. You know, it’s always nice to go somewhere warm and know that your friends are all somewhere else freezing their asses off.”  

The group all grumbled and complained, while Eddie narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend. His hand was clenched around his glass and he used it to gesture towards Bill. “You’re holding back. Something happened. What is it?”

Bill and Mike glanced at each other. “Welll…” Mike said slowly. “I sort of feel like we’re stepping on Ben and Bev’s toes here but… Yeah, something did happen.”

“Oh shit, did you guys fuck?” Richie blurted out. Stan let out an exasperated “Richie” while Eddie swatted at his arm. “What!?! We were all thinking it!” 

“That’s not exactly the tactful way the rest of us would have put it.” Eddie said before knocking back the rest of his drink. 

Richie just rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat, pouting until Eddie reached over and rested his hand on Richie’s knee. Richie dropped his hand on top of Eddie’s and squeezed. 

“Okay, so that’s not exactly how we wanted to say it either.” Mike said with a small smile. Bill was watching him from the corner of his eye, leaving all eyes on Mike. “But yes. We’re dating now. We’ve taking it slowly because we weren’t sure what this was, so please don’t be upset that we didn’t tell you right away-”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Billy. Richie and I were together for like two years before you we told you guys. We’re the last people be mad about that.”

“We weren’t talking to you.” Bill said happily with a toothy grin. “We were talking to all our normal friends.”

“Well, that’s fucking rude.” Richie muttered under his breath. A small rumble of laughter moved through the group, even Eddie chuckling. “Whatever. I haven’t decided if I saw this coming or not, and my gaydar is definitely a little off, but I’m so happy for you guys!”

“There’s no such thing as a gaydar.” Ben said with confidence.  Eddie, Mike and Richie all exchanged looks and Beverly kissed Ben gently on the cheek. 

“Well…” Patty spoke up then, her face looking like her cheeks were about to burst with joy. Richie nudged Eddie and wiggled his eyebrows, while Eddie frowned at him. 

Patty lifted her hand up away from Stan’s and held it out towards the table. The light coming from above them reflected off the rather large diamond on her left hand.

“Oh my God…” Beverly whispered. A hush fell over the table following Beverly’s words, everybody silently awaiting the confirmation of what they’d already pieced together. 

“We’re engaged.” Patty said softly. Stan’s ears and the back of his neck were both a deep red under the attention. The group remained quiet for a moment, then broke into cheers so loud that Richie was surprised they weren’t kicked out of the restaurant altogether. 

Everybody jumped to their feet, quick to hug the happy couple. Richie scooped Patty up in his arms and spun her around slightly, nearly sending their table flying. Both laughing, Richie sent Patty off into a teary Ben’s awaiting arms and turned to find himself facing Stanley. Stan’s cupped the back of Richie’s head as he pulled him into a hug. 

“You’ll be my best man, right?” Stan whispered directly into Richie’s ear. Though his friends would often say he had none, it took every inch of Richie’s self control not to immediately burst into tears as he nodded into Stanley’s shoulder. 

It took a couple minutes to get everybody calmed down and back into their seats, and their poor waitress came in to take their food orders. Richie was sure that once they sat back down all the couples were holding hands under the table. They all gave small chit chat until their meals showed up, and Richie dug in excitedly. 

“Oh, wait!” Beverly lowered her spoonful of pasta and blinked dramatically. “We totally forgot! Eddie, Rich, what’s new with you guys? Anything big happening in your lives since the last time we all hung out?”

Without even needed to look at his husband, Richie knew exactly what to say.

“Nope. You guys know us.” Richie draped his arm around the back of Eddie’s seat. “28 going on 88. Watch the news, in bed by 7.” 

The table all laughed, and dinner carried on without anymore cheering. The meal was peaceful and comfortable, Richie feeling almost blissful with Eddie’s heat pressing into his side while surrounded by their closest and most beloved friends. 

After saying their goodbyes, Eddie and Richie walked hand in hand to their car. “So,” Eddie started, with a smile in his voice. “Not ready to tell them after all?”

Richie laughed. “Nah, we’re ready.” He said. “But I didn’t wanna steal anybody’s thunder. We got enough news tonight. Ours can wait.” Richie pushed Eddie up against the car and kissed his jaw lightly. “What do you say? Let’s keep it our own little surprise. Just show them all by posting it on Instagram. Show up at the next get together with a baby.”

Eddie grinned. “We wouldn’t be the boring friends anymore.”

“Hell the fuck no.”

[queenofgotham800]

Headcanons/Roman Sionis x Reader

Watching movies with Roman Sionis would include...

Warnings: Gramatical Errors

(A/n): Roman's lines are red and Reader's are purple

I don't write Headcanons often, i think this is second time I wrote something like this, honestly I don't think this is the way how headcanons should be wroten. But it was fun writing these, so i hope you will have a good time reading it 🍸💜

Watching movies with Roman Sionis would include:

Roman, being Roman..

You, his wife and love of his life, telling him that you would like to watch some movies with him.

Roman right at that moment closing the club.

You being surprised, seeing big preparations in club, like few people, which worked for Roman would be fixing huge projector behind bed, located under the stage.

You, being curious about that.

-Roman what is happening?-

-You said you want to watch movies with me.-

-Well, I didn't expected this..-

Him being nervous, while giving annoyed looks to people, who were slowly putting rose petals around bed.

-You don't like it?-

-No, I love it.-

You, giving him romantic kiss to calm him down.

-Then I am glad. Go upstairs, I want to surprise you with this.-

You, going upstairs to apartment to finish next chapter of your book while drinking coffee.

You, being bored while waiting.

You, opening the coloring book that Roman gave you on your birthday. He also gave you tons of clothes, two new cars, one motorcycle, few books and huge cake.

Roman knocking on your doors

Him being dressed in one of his most fancy suits.

-It's done, we can go watch a movie-

Both of you going down to club.

Club being arrange nicely, but littlebit over the top.

You both laying on bed.

He letting you choose the movie

-Which one?-

-This one please.-

-Kay.-

You, leaning head on his shoulder, while watching the movie.

Roman giving you kisses on top of your head.

Roman commenting the movie loudly.

You, laughing at his reactions.

You, crying while Roman hugging you, when really sad scene comes on screen.

Lots of hugging.

Food, involving popcorn, pizza and some good quality vine.

Pillow fight after movie ends.

Goodnight kisses and maybe something more.

You both going to sleep in late hours.

[incoherentbabblings]

Fluff no.9 with timsteph in the red robin/batgirl era pleaseeee:)

Birthday Ask Game

Thank you for the ask!!!

Fluff #9 “Are we on a date right now?”  

“You ready for your ‘grand return’ to the Gotham social scene?”

“No time like the present. Seeing me should distract the League long enough to let you get Leslie out of harm’s way…”

“But I haven’t a thing to wear.”

“We’re right around the corner from the garment district, right? Gimme twenty minutes.”

“’Kay.”

Batgirl remained on the roof whilst Tim broke into a store. Something fancy, he’d thought.

He was still mad at her. Batgirl. Stephanie. Her solution to the Spoiler question was just to switch costumes. Really? And Babs signed off on this? Cass signed off on this? Dick signed off on this?

As if.

What happened to you Tim?

As if Stephanie actually cared. Like Stephanie Brown actually gave a goddamn about anyone else in her peppy empty headed –

Oh, that was a nice dress.

No. Still angry. Where was he? Oh yes. Peppy, bright voice with a giggle always waiting to burst out.

No wait –

“This one is nice.” Batgirl voiced behind him.

“Gah!” He jumped like a schoolgirl, and Batgirl raised her eyebrows. Well, he assumed she did. That cowl wasn’t the easiest thing to get to grips with. Even his own…

“You let your guard down.”

Oh. Hah. She was being clever. Or what Stephanie assumed was clever. Sarcasm and snarking. Turning his own words on him. Which, fine, maybe he had his hypocritical moments, but who doesn’t? Who isn’t a little bit flawed? Especially after everything he’d been through and how traumatized –

“This is gonna sound stupid but can you pick something that covers my gut? Like no cheeky belly or anything.”

“What?”

“It’s all gnarly and scarred.”

“Oh. Of course.”

Shit. Shit. Most physical scars came with mental ones. Stupid. Who was the self-absorbed one again?

“Thanks.” And she smiled. And it was beautiful. Tim gulped.

“Go pick some white shoes. I’ll keep looking.”

Steph looked around, craning her neck to locate footwear, then waltzed off, blonde hair flowing behind her. Tim robotically turned back around, and began to filter through dresses. He knew her size, loathe as he was to admit it, he still remembered. She deserved something nice. Something eye catching. But not too eye catching. They had to slip in and out with Leslie after all. But still. But still. But still.

“This one.” He declared, tearing off the tags. He tossed it to Stephanie, who after a brief inspection, acquiesced.

She reached behind her cowl and tugged it off, sighing at the relief of getting the weight off the crown of her head. Tim blushed, hearing her tug the zipper down on her suit. Was she seriously going to get changed right in front of him?

Pausing, Stephanie noticed he was staring. “Don’t you have a regular suit to find?”

Tim burned even more red. “Yes. Sure. Be right back.”

She laughed at his red cheeks, then continued to undress.

He found her later waiting for him outside the party. Hair done up, fresh layer of makeup on, pretty dress, pretty girl.

“Bam. Look at you, huh?” She giggled. “We didn’t get to go on dates like these very often, did we?”

She seemed to realise her mistake the moment the words left her mouth, and her smile fell off with her warm skin growing pale. Ignoring a strange gut reaction to quiet her nerves, to promise that he could do that for her from now on, he instead replied,

“Are we on a date right now?”

She looked mortified he should even ask.

“Leslie’s in danger.” She pushed, looking more than a little distraught.

Two years ago, he would have known exactly what to do. Pull her in with his left arm so she would be able to rest her head on his shoulder and neck, using the pressure of his hold as a soothing agent. Her warmth would bleed into him, and they would both grow calmer.

Now Tim could only watch as she turned to go into the party without him. No, wait. That was wrong. He could do something…

“Wait Steph. Gimme your arm.”

“What?”

“C’mere. Just until we get through the entrance.”

She moved closer until they were chest to chest. She stared at him, like she was still suspicious of what she saw, of who he was. After a moment of too long a pause, she seemed contented with her inspection. She reached up and played with his long hair, making it point in different directions thanks to the gel he had brushed through it. Tim’s rattling heart settled, if only for a moment.

“Let’s hurry. We need to save Leslie.”

Tim held out his arm, like a gentleman, and Stephanie graciously took it, colour returning to her cheeks. Tim again felt his mood shift with hers, and already could feel his smile softening. He wanted very much to kiss her forehead once more like he used to, encouraging her onwards.

But no, he was still angry with her.

Honest.

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Childhood Fears

chapter 28

chapter index

Lars and Elizabeth weren’t the sort of couple to dance every dance. They had, in fact, met while both of them were avoiding the dancing at a party held by her father at their house back in Corona. Her sisters were all competing for the attention of the young officers by the tent in their back garden, and she had gone around to the front to avoid them. Lars had been dragged to the party by his brother Karl, who had been concerned about his brother's intense focus on his studies, and insisted he needed to take some time to have some fun. The party seemed to Lars to be mostly young ladies trying to catch naval officers, and he soon found himself quietly exploring the gardens, where he ran into Elizabeth. 

This evening, Elizabeth’s mother and sisters were monopolizing her attention any time she wasn’t dancing. They were leaving in the morning, so Lars knew that Elizabeth felt obligated to spend time with them, but she had told him on more than one occasion that when she was away from them, she didn’t miss them as much as she felt she should. As soon as Lars got himself away from Mr. Meyer, he made sure to find his wife and ask her to dance.

After the second dance, Lars was once again called over by Mr. Meyer, this time to meet someone who had spent several years working in America.  He felt bad for abandoning Elizabeth at the party again, but at least, professionally, it was an interesting conversation.  There were more dances while he talked with the other men, and eventually he was able to return and get in one more dance with his new bride.

The party was starting to wind down.  He stood holding Elizabeth’s hand while her mother and sisters excitedly told her about their travel plans, and all the things they would be able to do once they arrived in Wesselton. He looked around the room as they spoke.  The Maldonian ambassador was speaking with Mr. Meyer, while the rest of the Maldonians had left for the evening.  Frederick was pestering Elizabeth’s father and Admiral Sorensen with more questions about the details of naval operations, and meanwhile he saw the Queen and her husband quietly leave.  There was some commotion in the opposite corner of the ballroom, and he noticed Inga being led out by the steward.

Elizabeth looked up at him. “Do you think something’s going on?” she whispered as her mother was busy discussing something with her sisters.

“I’m not sure,” he murmured back. It did seem odd, particularly since the princess was normally allowed to come and go as she pleased. His wife was worried about her friend, and clearly not interested in the conversation with her mother.  “Why don’t you go check?”

Elizabeth nodded and tried to quietly go. 

“Elizabeth, dear,” her mother called, “are you turning in so soon?”

“No, of course not,” Elizabeth replied, “I just wanted to check on Inga.” 

“You’ll get plenty of time to talk to her, but we’ll be leaving in the morning.”

“I just need a minute, Mother, if you’ll excuse me, please,” Elizabeth said firmly.

“I think the Princess will be fine, dear,” her mother replied.

Lars squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “I’ll go see if there’s anything happening.”

“Thank you,” she smiled at him.

“Now, what were you telling me, Diana?” Lars heard their mother saying as he walked away.

Lars saw Kate and Edith standing together off to the side of the room, exchanging guilty looks with each other.  The sisters were discussing in hushed tones about whether they had gotten Inga in trouble or whether General Mattias would hear about their gossiping and they would be the ones in trouble. The General had left an hour before on their assurance that they would behave themselves.  

“Ladies,” Lars greeted them.

They both startled a little.  

“Elizabeth was worried about Inga, so I promised I’d check on her.  Do you know why Kai called her out of the room?”

“No, I swear, we don’t,” Kate blurted rapidly.  Lars rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t think there was a reason before, but now you have me suspicious,” Lars smiled.  He had noticed Inga taking a few extra drinks, but the evening was almost over and it didn’t seem like the princess was likely to make a scene.

As he stood around waiting for the girls to say something more, he thought about what might be going on.  Elizabeth had told him they were talking about his new position, but he couldn’t imagine why that would be a problem. If Elizabeth was there, they might have been talking about Wesselton.  Perhaps there had been too much talk of Wesselton; after all, Arendelle had no official diplomatic relations with them. He thought back to the briefings before he had arrived in Arendelle, and shook his head at their foreign policy. And they wanted him to work for them? At least with Wesselton they officially had no relations, unlike the Southern Isles, where they had quietly stopped sending each other ambassadors some twenty-one years before. Of course, he knew from talking to both Mr. Meyer and his father-in-law, Corona profited off of this ambiguity.  He knew that Arendelle lived in fear of a naval attack from the Southern Isles, though he could never understand why this was an issue if that kingdom had long ago punished and exiled the would-be claimant to Arendelle’s throne.  Perhaps if he were working for Arendelle, he could convince them to be more rational in their foreign policy.  Even if the Queen wouldn’t listen to reason, her children seemed more open.

“We should go now,” Edith announced, pulling at her sister’s arm. “Good night, Mr. Nilsen.”

“Good night, ladies,” he replied, not sure how long he had been distracted in his own thoughts.

Elizabeth remained across the room talking to her sisters, glancing over and trying to move them that direction.  Her mother had found her husband, and was discussing last minute details. The Captain came striding over to Lars.  

“Well, son,” he laughed, shaking Lars’s hand, “we’ll be leaving early, so I think this is goodbye for now.  I know you’ll write to us.  Take good care of Elizabeth.  Good night!”

“Good night, sir,” Lars replied as his father-in-law left the room.

Elizabeth followed her sisters as her mother herded them out of the party. “I’ll see you in our room,” she told him as she walked with her mother and sisters up to their rooms, “see if you can find out what happened to Inga, and don’t let Mr. Meyer keep you too long.” 

He saw Mr. Meyer shake hands with the Maldonian ambassador as they bid each other good night, and took his chance to leave the room.  There wasn’t much point to going to bed just yet, but if Mr. Meyer caught him, there would be another dozen dignitaries he needed to talk to, and they would often insist on taking him to late night drinks. He wasn’t sure if it would be prying to look for Inga at this point, but Elizabeth had asked him.  Still, it didn’t sound like anyone else was in this part of the castle, with everyone either leaving for the town or retiring to rooms inside.  

He walked out the door, and headed to the courtyard. The air was crisp, but not too cold, and the moon, though not full, still gave enough light to see his way around. He decided that a walk through the gardens might help clear his head. Ever since the new position had been offered to him, nothing seemed quite right.  As he walked along in the moonlight, he thought of his conversation with Elizabeth before the party. 

Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror trying to decide what to do with her hair. "You never told me how fancy they get at this sort of thing."

Lars looked over. "It's not something I've really thought about. Dress for dancing, but it's not like it's some big occasion."

"Well," she said securing her hair, "it's the in between things that are tricky to dress for.  How do I look?"

"Beautiful.  What else do you expect me to say?" Lars smiled as she walked over. 

"You’ve seemed a bit distracted the last few days. I mean, I know it's a big deal deciding on the position, but I get the feeling it's something else."

He sighed. "You're right. Maybe it's just being gone for a week, but it feels… something feels different now.  We met with the Queen yesterday afternoon, and I could swear she wouldn't even look at me."

"Inga told me her mother wasn't feeling well last week. Perhaps she still hasn't fully recovered."

"But her husband, he had been so friendly, and he's made excuses of being busy the times I've run into him."

Lars sighed to himself.  He hadn’t discussed this with anyone else. If Mr. Meyer had noticed any difference in attitude, he certainly hadn’t said anything, but he was focused on how they would proceed once things were more settled.  Corona had mentioned sending royal emissaries, presumably to deal with the special situation. They hadn’t given exact dates yet, but he wondered if some of his classmates from the School who were particularly jealous of his placement here would be candidates for his replacement.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the noise of one of the nearby small side doors to the castle slamming open, and he heard a rustle of silk as someone ran by.  He quickly realized it was Inga.  He looked back at the door to see if anyone was following, but the door was shut again.  He walked in the direction she had run, but couldn’t see anyone.  Suddenly, he heard some noise from a nearby tree, and saw Inga sitting on one of the branches, noisily gasping for breath like she’d been crying.  He wanted to call to her, but as soon as he looked up, he found himself quickly looking away, realizing that she hadn’t taken any care of how her skirts were arranged. Even if he weren’t married now, this wasn’t proper for him to see, but Elizabeth was probably still stuck with her mother, and he had the feeling that Inga wasn’t in a good frame of mind.  As he walked closer to the tree, he noticed a nearby branch, which would avoid the awkward view he found himself looking at from below. Grabbing onto the side of the tree, he started climbing.

“Frederick, is that you?” she called out, not really hiding the sniffling sounds.

“No,” Lars called out, hoping she wouldn’t be too startled.

He saw her begin to stand up, holding on to the tree trunk. “Lars? What are you doing here?” 

“I used to climb trees, too,” he laughed.

“No, no, I mean… why are you out here? Were you looking for me?” she asked.

“Yes... Elizabeth was worried about you,” he explained, reaching a nearby branch, a little out of breath.  “She wanted me to check on you when you were pulled away from the party. Is anything wrong?”

“You can go tell them I’m fine,” she told him with a forced calm.

“But-” 

“I’m fine.”

“Elizabeth said you seemed a little unhappy earlier.”

“Everything was just fine earlier,” she spat out, looking away.

“Is everything fine with your parents? I saw that they left a little early.”

He looked in confusion as Inga began crying again. 

“What is it?  What’s wrong?” he asked.  Surely he would have heard something from the Ambassador or one of the other diplomats if her parents were ill.  He couldn’t think of any disputes they might have with Inga.  

“You have to leave right now,” she cried. He didn’t know what he was expecting to hear, but that certainly wasn’t it. 

“Why?  I want to know why you’re upset.  Is there something wrong?”

“I can’t tell you.”  He watched as she carefully lowered herself to the ground.  

“Fine,” he sighed slowly, “it’s personal, none of my business.” He lowered himself from his own branch.

“That’s just it,” she said, almost shouting, “it should be your business!” She looked like she was trying to find a way out, almost like she was trapped.

“I really don’t understand. If it’s my business, you should tell me!” He grabbed her hand.  She quickly pulled it away.  

“It’s not my secret,” she sobbed, turning around and starting to run. Lars hadn’t been looking around, and was nearly as surprised as Inga was when she bumped into her father.  Lars gasped when he saw him standing there.  He hadn’t seen him walk up.  Inga collapsed in the grass where she was standing and buried her head between her knees.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t know what’s going on.” Lars said as he approached Kristoff. Lars wasn’t sure what else he could say.  Had he been imagining Kristoff’s avoidance of him, or was the reason the same as Inga’s reaction to seeing him tonight?  Or was it worse now?  After all, a young lady screaming and crying, trying to get away from a young man? 

“It’s nothing you did,” Kristoff replied, stepping a little closer to Inga, “but you should probably go back inside now.”

“I… sorry again, I hope she feels better soon,” Lars stammered.  Hurrying back up the path, he heard Inga’s muffled sobs.

***

Kristoff tried not to slam the door as he walked into the bedroom. He stood rubbing his forehead.

“Where is she now?”

“I left her with Gerda to get her ready for bed. I think she’ll be better with some sleep,” he sighed, sitting down and taking off his shoes.

Anna stared at the ceiling. “That didn’t go well.”

“We didn’t exactly plan it,” he replied flatly. “We probably should have let Inga keep gossiping with those girls. She knows enough not to believe what she hears.”

“How are you so calm right now?”

“I’m not calm, I’m exhausted,” he replied, collapsing into bed.  “She was right, though, it wasn’t the right time to tell her about that.”

***

Anna quietly opened the door to the library and walked in, though it was more of a waddle.  She didn’t remember Inga or Fred being quite this large so soon, nor was she this big when she was in Corona, even if she had felt so at the time. 

“And then she unfroze!” Olaf exclaimed.  Inga cheered and giggled.  Kristoff had fallen asleep, sprawled across the sofa, snoring.  Little Frederick had toddled over and was plucking out notes on the mandolin in the corner.

“Hi, Mama!” Inga exclaimed, “Olaf was just about to get to the part where you punched the mean man!”

“Olaf, are you getting them worked up before bed?” she gently chided him.

“No, Inga asked for the story!”

“Well, why don’t you go tell Nanny that it’s time to get them to bed?” Anna smiled as he wandered down the hall, and walked over to Kristoff.  “Honey, you fell asleep.” 

“I…” he muttered, sitting up quickly, “Okay, I did.  Here, you need to sit down.”  He scooted over and gently tugged her hand.  She sat down.

“I’m fine, really,” she smiled. “I wrote to Elsa this morning that it will  probably be a little longer.  The midwife thinks maybe another month.”

“You were working too late again,” he said, rubbing her belly.

“Mama!” Inga interrupted, “Why didn’t you let Papa punch the man? He says you wouldn’t let him.” 

“Inga,” Anna sighed, “how many times have you heard this story now?”

“I don’t know.  A thousand?” 

“Well, it’s time for bed,” she told her, cuddling Frederick who had just climbed up on her lap.

“Mama, what if you had married that man?” 

“What?” 

“What if you had married that man?”

“I… I don’t know, but you wouldn’t be here asking me that question.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wouldn’t have married your Papa.”

“But why does that matter?”

“Because…”  How long was Inga going to continue questioning?  “Oh, good, here’s Nanny.  Good night, Inga, I love you.”

“Night, Mama, night night, Papa.”

“Good night,” Kristoff said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.  They watched as Nanny led Inga and her brother to the nursery.

“Anna, do you think maybe you should tell her?”

“About what?”

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh…  she’s so young, but I guess at some point...  Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow night.”

“Let’s go to bed now.  You’ve been working yourself too hard.” Kristoff helped Anna up off the sofa.

“I’m fine.  Besides, I think at this point I know what I’m doing.”

“Have you thought of any more names?”

“Not really, no.  Several members of the council had suggestions this afternoon,” she laughed.

“Well, there’s still time for figuring that out,” he smiled.

Anna clutched at her belly. “Maybe not…” 

***

Lars arrived back at his room in a daze. He washed his face, and changed for bed, trying to figure out what had just happened.  He spent several minutes pacing, finally giving up and lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The door opened.

“Lars, I didn’t expect you to be back already,” Elizabeth said cheerfully.

“I avoided Mr. Meyer,” he replied, trying to sound equally cheerful, knowing she would see right through it, but he was too tired, and it was too late at night now.  He could censor himself around her, but he could never keep up the act he put on for diplomatic functions.

“What happened? Did you find out why Inga had to leave the party?”

“No, I didn’t… that is, I didn’t find out why she left. I ran into her later. She was upset.”

“Did she say why?” 

“No, and… it was very confusing.  Her father found her.  I’m really not sure what was going on.”

“Well, let’s just sleep on it. I’ll see if I can find her tomorrow. Maybe she’ll be more willing to talk to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” 

[therainroguefanfiction]

⁂ Always (Kuroro) #2

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Previous  

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“I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.”

You sat at the head of the bed, arms crossed and legs folded, glaring at the bright pink dress that lay at the end of the bed with animosity, willing it to burn to a crisp until there was nothing left.

“Stop glaring at it and put it on.” Kuroro walked out of the bathroom, fixing his tie as he did so.

“No. Way. In. Hell.” You spat, glare intensifying. “You’ll have to kill me before I’d… no. I wouldn’t wear that thing even if I was dead!”

“I told you to stop saying such things.” He scolded, his full attention now on you. “If you don’t wear the dress, I’ll go out alone.”

“Like I care,” You scoffed, leaning back against the headboard. “I hate those damn fancy restaurants, anyway. Would it kill you to go to a cafe for once?”

A small sigh passed his lips, eyes sliding closed in exasperation. He knew this was one battle he could not win. “Let’s go,”

You grinned in triumph, sliding off the bed and slipping your sneakers on. Instead of tieing your shoes like normal people did, you tucked the laces into the side. This was yet another thing that Kuroro did not understand about you. You really didn’t have a reason to do so, you just did it to do it.

You were grinning widely as you walked past the suit wearing male and out the door. Kuroro shook his head lightly, bangs shifting in front of his face, and followed behind you. When you stepped through the glass lobby doors, Kuroro held his hand out in front of you.

You blinked a few times before scowling and shaking your head. “No. No, no, no, no.”

He looked at you blankly, his expression remaining devoid of any emotion.

Your eye twitched and you stared at the ground. You could still feel his eyes on you and it made you shift uncomfortably. You may have won the dress battle, but he intended to win this one.

“Would you prefer walking to the restaurant?”

“I’d prefer a cab or bus. Hell, yes, let’s walk!” You started towards the direction of the restaurant but he grabbed your shoulder, preventing you from moving.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft but demanding. You knew that he would not move from that spot, or let you leave until he got his way.

You sighed in defeat, the corners of your lips pulling down into a frown. “Fine, You win.” You reached into the pocket of your hoodie and pulled out your keys, reluctantly dropping them into his hand.

Without a word, Kuroro walked to the back of the building and approached your precious car. You stood by the passenger door, staring at the shiny black vehicle with worry. Normally, you never let anyone even touch your car. Letting someone drive it was a completely different story. You would have kicked the ass of anyone who let the thought even cross their mind. But you couldn’t have your way in that respect when it came to Kuroro.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the handle and opened the door, sitting on the leather seat before pulling it closed. You watched him closely as he put the key in the ignition and started the car.

“Put on your seatbelt. We’re going to be late for our reservation.” Kuroro took off, speeding down the busy streets like a bat out of hell. Now, you often drove like that, too, but it was your car. You didn’t trust anyone to drive, must less speed, in your car.

“Kuroro… I swear to god, if you get one scratch on my car, I’ll throw you off the freakin’ balcony!” You hissed, eyes narrowed at the stoic male.

“Hmm,” he hummed, completely unfazed by the threat.

As he stopped in front of the restaurant, you refused to leave the car unless he parked it down the street; there was no way you were gonna trust some valet with your car. Knowing you wouldn’t budge, he silently agreed and parked the car a few blocks down.

As soon as you stepped out, you began to check every inch of the car before sighing in relief and patting the hood lightly. “You live to see another day.”

Kuroro watched you from the sidewalk, his expression blank. This was another thing he didn’t understand about you. How could you love a car so much?

You didn’t look at him as you passed but you could feel his eyes on your back. It made you uncomfortable but you did your best to ignore it. Your discomfort only grew when they entered the restaurant.

It was extremely fancy. Everyone was dressed up like they were about to meet the King and Queen. There was soft music playing, a mix between a violin and a piano. Royal red carpet covered the floor, looking almost black in the dim lighting that came from various crystal chandeliers, as well as the candles that sat on every table. It was quiet, the people whispering quietly amongst themselves as if they had some valuable secret to hide.

The man that stood behind the podium inside the red velvet rope was dressed like a butler, a towel draped over his left arm. His pointed, bird-like nose was in the air like he was something special.

When he noticed you, his lips pulled back into a sneer, his beady eyes narrowing in disgust. His voice was nasal and drawn out, and the tone he used showed his strong dislike. “How, may I help you?”

You felt your fists clenching as you bit your tongue hard to force back the very colorful words that threatened to flow out like a raging waterfall. You probably would have exploded if Kuroro hadn’t grabbed a hold of your shoulders, sending a wave of calm through your body with his nen. It only helped a small amount, but it was enough to stop you from lashing out, at least.

“We have reservations under the name Kai Kensington.” Kuroro’s tone was kind as if he wasn’t at all bothered by the snooty man, but the tight, almost possessive grip he held on you was questionable. If your mind hadn’t been pre-occupied, you probably would have asked him about it.

The man looked doubtful but checked the list none the less. His finger stopped and he sneered again. “Ahh, Mister Kensington. My sincerest apologies.” He undid the rope and turned to walk off. “Please, follow me. I’ll show you and your… friend to your table.”

You scowled at his back, wanting nothing more than to slam his head against the brick wall. “Sincere, my ass.” You muttered under your breath.

“You should be lucky they even let you in here dressed like that,” Kuroro whispered into your ear as he followed close behind.

You glanced at him over your shoulder. “I look fine. I’m dressed normally.”

“This place does not call for normal, Y/N. It calls for dressing in formal clothing. Normally, they won’t let anyone inside unless they are dressed up.”

“It’s your fault!” You hissed, quietly. “I didn’t want to come here in the first place!”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you do anything I ask without arguing?”

You tapped your chin in false thought before shrugging. “Nope,”

“Sir. Madam.” The old man bowed, his right arm outstretched towards their booth. He sent you a sharp look before turning around to leave.

You flicked him off before taking your seat across from Kuroro. “What up with the name, anyway?”

“It was something different.”

“Hmm,” you leaned your elbow on the table, cheek resting snugly against your palm. Your eyes scanned over the menu with mild interest. Why did these fancy restaurants not serve good food? Or did you just have to be classy and rich to like them?

“Don’t be picky.” He scolded lightly as if reading her mind.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress was tall and thin, wearing black heels and a mini strapless black dress that clung to her figure, showing off her curves. Her dark brown hair flowed down her back like silk and her brown eyes watched Kuroro closely. She resembled a cat watching a bird fluttering around in its cage.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your menu to the front of the table. “Order me whatever. I don’t care.”

The woman gave her a look showing her disgust and you scoffed, closing your eyes so you didn’t have to see her anymore.

After writing down whatever Kuroro had ordered, she walked away, shaking her hips more than necessary.

Kuroro chuckled lightly, leaning forward with both elbows on the table and his chin on top of his folded hands.

“What?” You questioned, feeling uncomfortable with his penetrating gaze watching you. His eyes followed every movement you made without fail. “Will you stop?” You growled, looking away from him, light red tinting your cheeks. You hoped it was concealed by the flickering candlelight, but that seemed like too much to hope for. Why did he have to be so aggravating? “Why do you always stare at me like that?”

The waitress re-appeared, setting the food down and sending a flirtatious smile his way.

You scowled. Did that bitch really have to interrupt before you could get an answer? Then again, you doubted that he would have given you an answer, anyway.

Even though the woman tried extremely hard to get his attention – leaning over farther than she had to in order to show off her cleavage, sending him flirty smiles with lust filled eyes as she batted her eyelashes – Kuroro didn’t look at her once, not even a glance. His eyes were still trained on you.

You were glaring at her, but when you glanced at him, you couldn’t look away from his gaze. It wasn’t long before the woman became just a memory. Kuroro demanded your complete attention, and he got it.

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[fink-le-freak]

@mikey-putrid and I have this weird little desert town we created called Halflight and I want to share some of the character blurbs we wrote for the citizens

Notable Locations Within Halflight

-Halflight General Hospital

-Halflight Public Library

-Halflight Grammar School

-Halflight Town Hall

-The Flock and Feather

-Dragon's Keep Games and Comics

-Feline Good

-Pins N' Needles

-Ink Addicts

-Rose's Antiques

-Theodore's Oddities and Enchantments

-Kelly's Judo Club

-New to You

-Sunny Valley Nursing Home

Dr. Elsie O'Dalaigh, 54: The town's most beloved doctor. Her dry wit and eccentricities may put you off at first, but she's a very warm and wise woman and should you fall ill or find yourself hurt, you will be in good hands. She's originally from Dublin and has a fair number of stories to tell from her wild youth in Ireland. She has an affinity for all things macabre but especially spiders. You might find her dozing off on her porch swing or enjoying a cup of tea with a friend. You're always welcome to join her and her spouse for dinner.

Dr. Ivan Vasilevsky, 39: A sickly doctor who recently came to town from New York City because the air quality was better for his lungs. He's very brilliant but hardly friendly and very private. Because he's fairly well known, patients come from across the country seeking his care. The only person he seems friendly with is his nurse, Cameron.

Dr. Andre Jimenez, 34: An anthropomorphic parrot surgeon at Halflight General Hospital. He's a total social butterfly and loves to talk, talk, talk. He has trouble keeping secrets and falls into gossip frequently. He's well liked by all his colleagues, all but Dr. Vasilevsky that is.

Johnathan "Johnny" Ross, 20: A cowardly and sensitive young man with a passion for piercing. Though only an apprentice, he's very knowledgeable about body modification and keeps his own piercings immaculate. His motorcycle is also kept in pristine condition. He's also quite shy and is hardly ever seen without his girlfriend, Loretta.

Venus Estelle, 31: A laid back frilled lizard woman that claims to see the future through the smoke from her pipe. She's very transparent and sees no reason to keep secrets about herself. She has nothing to hide. She has a passion for music and plays drums in a local punk band, The Heart Electric.

Kaisei "Kai" Kelly, 56: A very stoic and serious judo instructor. His father was a boxer in Ireland and ever since childhood, Kai has been enthralled by martial arts. He fancies himself a train enthusiast and has a large collection of model trains in his home. His serious nature and brute strength can make him rather intimidating but his husband Rodney finds him cute. He visits his family in Kyoto every spring.

Rodney Kelly, 59: The gym teacher at Halflight Grammar School. Originally from Edinburgh and standing a diminutive 5'2", Rodney more than makes up for his height with personality. He's encouraging, kind, hyperactive and loud. Very, very loud. Fitness has always been an important part of his life, even at nearly 60. He does his best to make gym class a fun place for all instead of a source of bullying and stress for those who don't like team sports.

Jeremy Fox, 19: A brilliant college student neck deep in conspiracy theories. He's very paranoid and distrusting, often to his detriment. He wants to prove to his professors that aliens exist though none of them will give him the time of day. When he isn't studying or trying to prove his theories, he can be found practicing his bass guitar or stargazing. He and his older sister like to unwind by smoking pot and watching sci-fi movies. He's one of Johnny's closest friends.

Jodie Fox, 23: Jeremy's cheerful, supportive yet ditzy older sister and roomate. She let him move in with her after their parents kicked him out for being gay. She doesn't understand a lot of what he talks about but she's happy he's passionate about something. Her bedroom is filled with Care Bears merchandise and colorful collectibles. She's rarely seen without her sticker covered roller skates. The two siblings live in the apartment right above Johnny and Loretta.

Sunny McIntyre, 30: An anthro horse gym rat and fitness trainer. Her cheerfulness is contagious and her motherly nature makes her easy to talk to. Her thick southern drawl might make it hard to understand her though. She always looks on the bright side and doesn't have a pessimistic bone in her body. In addition to being a die hard Bon Jovi fan, she enjoys fishing, hiking and hunting. She also hosts a transgender support group at her house.

Junichiro Oguma, 46: An overworked and underpaid pharmacy technician. Though very good at what he does, he isn't really a people person. He's rather grumpy and has little patience for foolishness. He's infamously difficult to work with due to his perfectionism. He holds himself to ridiculously high standards and gets upset easily when he fails to meet his own expectations. His wit is drier than the desert itself.

Edward Dowler, 68: A retired illustrator living comfortably at the Sunny Valley Nursing Home. He takes his sketchbook everywhere and may sheepishly ask you if you would mind posing for a portrait. He's a gentle soul and a firm believer in the power of pacifism. He's very close to his adopted daughter and three grandsons.

Joanne Lawrence, 47: The owner of Joanne's Diner. She bought the place almost 20 years ago and turned it into a comfortable, 1950's style diner popular among bikers and travelers. She's very blunt and hates wasting time but if you treat her well, she'll treat you well. Threaten her livelihood however and you will pay dearly. Regulars might call her Mama because she takes such good care of them.

Dennis "Moose" Bowen, 52: The cook at Joanne's. He's a people pleaser and will do whatever a customer asks to make sure they enjoy their meal. Hearing someone say they didn't like his food is like a knife through the heart. He prefers to stay in the background and not call too much attention to himself. Joanne calls him Moose because of his large size.

Hilda "Mouse" Calhoun, 21: A demon waitress at Joanne's. Contrary to what you might believe, she's very down to earth and sweet. She's not here for souls or bringing you to damnation, she just wants to serve pancakes and save money for beauty school. Her petite build makes her the Mouse to Dennis's Moose.

Wally Mack, unknown but born before 1956, mentally and physically around 21-24: A living humanoid shadow that can usually be found on a wall at Joanne's. He's chatty and perky and loves to dance. He's able to interact with others through their shadows. If Wally was to touch your shadow's shoulder, you would feel it. He likes to play harmless pranks on Dennis.

Tiffany "Tiff" Cain, 25: An anthropomorphic eagle bartender at her father's restaurant, The Flock and Feather. She also volunteers to work with children with special needs on weekends. She's very patient and a daredevil at heart. Her straightforward, casual attitude makes guests comfortable and keeps them coming back. She may be seen skateboarding around town.

Hisao Nakajima-Stewart, 33: The recently appointed head librarian at Halflight Public Library. He's rather sarcastic and moody but becoming a father has softened him up. He's very passionate about high fantasy and hosts Dungeons and Dragons sessions at his house every week. He spoils his chihuahua, Kotori, rotten with all kinds of pretty dresses and toys. He loves his husband, daughter and newborn son dearly.

Delwyn Morgane, 29: An employee at Dragon's Keep Games and Comics. When his shift ends, he dons a full suit of armor and obsessively hunts down dragons, or at least tries to. He's yet to actually kill a dragon. He's quite handsome but has a few screws loose. He plays Dungeons and Dragons with Hisao and friends every Thursday night.

Klaus Brunsvold, 70: A quiet and hardworking man originally from Norway. English is not his first language but he's slowly improving thanks to his coworkers. Though he might look imposing, his warm smile puts people at ease right away. He works at the cat cafe, Feline Good, as a barista and gleefully serves customers fattigman and slices of ostekake. Goria says he has "big grandpa energy".

Jonas Ostergard, 61: A blunt, reclusive man that's easily recognized by his towering height and voracious appetite. Standing 8'2" in comparison to his wife's tiny 5', he's one of many oddities in this town. He's absolutely enthralled by zombies and robots and fills notebooks with detailed diagrams regarding them. He's often seen at the Flock and Feather, chatting up a storm with his friend Tiff. He has autism, ADHD and intellectual disabilities.

Jamie De Luna, 18: A scrawny young man enamored with anime and martial arts. He's a bit hotheaded and immature but nonetheless determined to become an MMA fighter. His younger sister Tala is his biggest fan and supports her nerdy big brother all the way. He loves cheesy kung fu movies and takes them very seriously. He thinks very highly of his judo teacher Kai and seems to think of him as a father figure.

Goria Stout, 15: A high school student and part of Hisao's Dungeons and Dragons group. She's partially an ogre, 25% to be exact, and admires her ogre grandfather greatly. However, at the same time, part of her has been made to feel ashamed of her pointed ears and blue skin. She's rather lazy and self centered, but occasionally shows a more warm side. She wants to study magic and become a feared sorceress but just doesn't have the natural ability to do so. She frequents the comic shop and is the only one that believes in Delwyn's quest to slay a dragon.

Wesley Eldridge, 19: The bratty and materialistic son of billionaires left to play in mommy and daddy's mansion. His parents are constantly traveling the world, so he spends his days lazing about and relishing his family's wealth. He's notoriously snobbish and will have no part in anything, or anyone, he deems beneath him. He's had a fondness for unicorns since he was a child and even owns a purebred Irish unicorn named Divinity Diamond. He's very protective of her and has no qualms about sending his guards after you if you dare harm her.

Renwick Ozul, 25: E-boy and aspiring model with a sour disposition. He's distrusting of others and keeps people at a distance, except for his close friend Missy. Despite his cold and calculating online persona, he's quite insecure and struggles with his body image. He can be rather rude and nasty but has his moments of vulnerability and kindness.

Chelsea Montgomery, 23: A quiet young woman who keeps to herself. Some people say she fades into the background. She's very creative and resourceful, cleverly finding solutions to most problems she faces. Her interests include anime, cosplay, drawing and video games. She's great with kids and would like to be an art teacher one day.

Dallas Silvers, 27: A monster hunter and unofficial sheriff of Halflight. She's bold and quick witted, outsmarting any beast that threatens the town and quickly subduing it or killing it. Her talent with a rifle is nigh unmatched in town. She's the second oldest of 11 children and adores her older brother, the bounty hunter Smokey Silvers. She finds it difficult to be open about her feelings but loves her family dearly.

(Characters below belong to my friend @mikey-putrid, follow him he's cool)

Brody Erickson-O'Dalaigh, 47: The town's resident maternal figure and unofficial monster hunter (or befriender, really). Their spunky, adventurous attitude often gets them into shenanigans, but they always manage to pull themself out. They are kind and loving towards everyone. No matter who or what you are, you are always invited to Brody's for a nice meal.

Landon Borowick, 26: Brody's, often unwilling, sidekick and a security guard at the local mall. He's a cowardly young man who would rather stay home and get stoned, but thinks of Brody as his hero and therefore ends up getting dragged along on their adventures. Despite his fearful nature, Landon is a physically intimidating person who will do anything to help a friend.

Darcy Cooper, 16: A rough and tumble student at Halflight Grammar School. Darcy moved to Halflight with her mother to open up a bakery, which doubles as their home, and she often makes deliveries on her bike. Her warm and friendly personality helps her to make friends easily. Usually covered in bandages, Darcy loves practicing stunts on her skateboard, as well as watching anime and playing video games.

Loretta Sims, 20: Johnny's girlfriend, aspiring cryptozoologist and collecter of cool antiques. Loretta is shy and timid, preferring to blend into the background and not draw attention to herself. She loves spending time in the forest and working on her ever growing scrapbook. She's never far from her beloved boyfriend.

Cameron Payette, 28: A nurse at Halflight General Hospital and Dr. Vasilevsky's live in assistant. Having grown up with 15 disabled and ill siblings, Cameron has developed a love of helping people, keeping them healthy and cheering them up with a silly song on their trusty ukelele. During their off time, they enjoy video games and sci-fi movies.

[ellinghamhq]

Oyez, oyez! (Yes, I’m going to use this phrase as often as possible.) I know I’m a tiny bit late, but I’ve finally finished arranging the pairs + prompts for December’s mini pairing up event! Basically, how this works is that all the characters who were entered in the google form were paired up (in every pair, one is meant to write the starter, and you’ll see that mentioned in the list) and then given a little prompt! The rules for it are quite simple, really! All you have to do is, if you’re meant to write the starter, to try and have it up before December 18. You can message the person you’re paired up with beforehand to plot a little, but it’s not obligatory! Then, the other person will reply to your starter, and ta-da! New thread started! As far as prompts go, some are more detailed than others, but I recommend playing around with them to try and make them work for you. You can follow them completely, of course, but I don’t want you to feel forced to do that, you know? So, yes!

p.s. If you have to back down for some reason, or if you want to join in last minute, or anything else, please don’t hesitate to message me and I’ll try and fix something up!

p.p.s. Please tag all your starters for the event with #ellingham:mini2, but NOT #ellingham:starter!

pairs + prompts under the cut!

Ingrid Abernathy ( @iddyabernathy ) should write a starter for Christian Garnet ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: An old man dropped his wallet in front of the grocery store, and both Ingrid and Christian have noticed it.

Roxanne Leclerc ( @deneigement ) should write a starter for Dakota Hefner ( @dckotas ) !!

PROMPT: Roxanne is putting up the Christmas lights in front of her house and yells out to Dakota for help to reach a bit higher.

Adrien Liu ( @amourxdhiver ) should write a starter for Declan Cleary ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: Adrien throws a snowball at a friend but misses, and it accidentally hits Declan in the shoulder.

Astrid Carrigan ( @amourxdhiver ) should write a starter for Elijah Winters ( @elijahwintcrs ) !!

PROMPT: The two of them are at the open-to-all skate night at the ice rink, and both come up to the concessions counter to get a mug of hot chocolate at the same time.

Jeremy Atkinson ( @deneigement ) should write a starter for Elodie Davis ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: Jeremy and Elodie get stuck inside the Winter Café during a big snow storm that makes the roads are too dangerous to drive on.

Delphine Nadeau ( @deneigement ) should write a starter for Jaylah Star ( @cfsiilverliiniings ) !!

PROMPT: They both attend a charity event to help fund nature conservation in Ellingham, and end up meeting at the open bar.

Eason Rush ( @easonxrush ) should write a starter for Melody Townsend ( @cfsiilverliiniings ) !!

PROMPT: The bottom of Melody's grocery bag breaks and Eason witnesses it.

Bronwyn Clarke ( @lasaison ) should write a starter for Lydia Henderson ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: The two are standing on the same street corner when they witness someone dressed like Santa on a bike ignore a red light and someone in a car honking quite intensely at that person.

Arielle Nadeau ( @diaphsncus ) should write a starter for Micah Davis ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: The two of them were standing in front of the Winter Café when they got cornered by very insistant girl scouts trying to convince them to give them things for the Christmas toy drive.

Alexis Cerone ( @lasaison ) should write a starter for Monroe Oakley ( @ffsmonroe ) !!

PROMPT: Alexis and Monroe are both shopping for Christmas trees in the little Christmas tree farm in Ellingham when they notice a doe standing not too far away from them.

Stella Marinos ( @justroses​ ) should write a starter for Quest Pryor ( @cfsiilverliiniings​ ) !!

PROMPT: There was a disturbance caused by someone a bit too drunk at a small Firestorm charity concert for the Maison des Marguerites, and Quest is the first cop to show up and is greeted by Stella.

Evan Woods ( @evanvvoods​ ) should write a starter for Royal Ford ( @cfsiilverliiniings​ ) !!

PROMPT: They both reach for the same book at the library, which is currently decked out in decorations for Christmas.

Arrow Hart ( @brokewinqs​ ) should write a starter for Zander Carey ( @zanderhq​ ) !!

PROMPT: Arrow notices Zander drinking alone at one of Ellingham's few bars, not too long before Christmas.

Sage Cooper ( @heartstorn ) should write a starter for Gabriel Royer ( @lasaison ) !!

PROMPT: Sage goes into the record store Gabriel works at and has to ask for help to find a specific record (either for her or for a gift or something).

Lucas Fernandez ( @lasaison ) should write a starter for Esme Vidal ( @deneigement ) !!

PROMPT: Esme's car breaks down and she's stuck standing beside it on the side of the road when Lucas drives by and maybe stops.

Lia Tran ( @amourxdhiver ) should write a starter for Joe Whenham ( @joewhenham ) !!

PROMPT: Lia witnesses Joe wandering around drunk/tipsy in the Ellingham Christmas Market.

Sutton Gardner ( @heartstorn ) should write a starter for Blue Wesley ( @justroses ) !!

PROMPT: Sutton notices Blue looking quite intense whilst doing some research at the library, and has to walk past them and ask them to move to get to the computer next to them.

Brooke Putnam ( @heartstorn ) should write a starter for Analyse Mikaelson ( @brokewinqs ) !!

PROMPT: Brooke helps Analyse out with something that fell from the latter's basket at the grocery store when they hear on the speaker that the store is closing in half an hour.

Adriana Mercan ( @adrianamercan ) should write a starter for Oliver Beaulieu ( @oliiverbeau ) !!

PROMPT: Adriana notices Oliver looking completely overwhelmed in a fancy store's perfume section.

Veronica “Ronny” Jacobson ( @lasaison ) should write a starter for Elara Adams ( @elaraadams ) !!

PROMPT: Ronny and Elara reach for the same Christmas drink to-go at the Winter Café at the same time after it's called by the drink's name, and the name written on the cup is impossible to read.

Carson Forbes ( @heartstorn ) should write a starter for Kay Harris ( @detectivekay ) !!

PROMPT: Carson is walking around admiring the Christmas lights when she notices Kay in his yard, playing in the snow with his dogs.

Valerie White ( @forensicvalerie ) should write a starter for Eloise Leblanc ( @ellelbc ) !!

PROMPT: Eloise is waiting in line with her son to meet Santa, when something falls from her purse and Valerie, passing by, picks it up for her.

Étienne Bellegarde ( @deneigement ) should write a starter for Marigold Arias ( @brokewinqs ) !!

PROMPT: Étienne has to pass by Marigold whilst she's filming a video and isn't sure when/how to do that so he just stands there awkwardly waiting for her to finish.

Valentina Moreno ( @deneigement ) should write a starter for Rebecca “Beck” Pasdar ( @beckpasdar ) !!

PROMPT: Valentina's helping Firestorm out with a small charity concert, and meets with Beck a few days prior to discuss things at the Winter Café.

Liam Atkinson ( @lasaison ) should write a starter for Mallory Reed ( @heartstorn ) !!

PROMPT: Mallory and Liam have been waiting in a dentist's waiting room for over two hours because of a snow storm that's keeping the dentist stuck at his place, and them stuck at the dentist's office. Alone, now that the secretary has gone to the employees' room.

Marlow Wilson ( @marlow-wilson ) should write a starter for Talia Tremblay ( @deneigement ) !!

PROMPT: Marlow's in line at the grocery force when a tiny lil child runs into her legs. That child is Leo, Talia's 2 years old son, and not long after, Talia is picking him up and apologizing profusely to Marlow.

Mali Krimkul ( @malikrim ) should write a starter for Noelle Laurent ( @justroses ) !!

PROMPT: Mali and Noelle are walking on the sidewalk when a group of 7-8 year old kids beg them to help them build a snowman.

Sydney Moore ( @detectivesydneymoore ) should write a starter for Autumn Cheng ( @deneigement ) !!

PROMPT: Autumn and Sydney end up trapped in a store when there's a power outage and the doors of the store automatically lock and neither of them can figure out how to open them.