#stuff some dollar tree string lights in them

[bludraws094]

currently just laying in bed in my half finished hyde cosplay tapping the hat bcus mm nice sound

[outerbankies]

new light: blue christmas — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: your boyfriend's upset that he's not as into the holidays as you are, but you just want to make sure he's okay.

warnings: drinking, swearing, family stuff around the holidays

a/n: i leave u all with my last little gift of the week, a new light christmas! hope u all have a great holiday season! wishing everyone love and light this time of year <3

“Can my big, strong, hot boyfriend please come help me unload the car?”

Rafe emerges on the front stoop of your home soon enough, padding through the front door you left open when you called for him, looking very perplexed and wearing socks with his flip flops. “What did you even buy?”

“Target was having a sale on their Christmas stuff and I might have blacked out,” you explain, throwing open your trunk. “See?”

“Oh my god,” Rafe deadpans, taking in the amount of bags in your trunk. “Babe, did you buy the entire store?”

“I actually went light,” you shrug. “Because my mom set aside some of the old decorations they’re getting rid of for us to use, remember? And I tried to buy stuff that was kind of timeless so it would fit that whole vintage vibe.”

Rafe furrows his eyebrows, then turns to load up with bags nonetheless, leaving you only two of the lighter bags to carry yourself. “Sure, sounds good.”

“When do you have time to decorate?” you ask, unwinding your scarf and hanging it on the rack by the door. “I was thinking we could start tonight.”

“We?”

“Yeah, Rafe. We,” you continue, rifling through the bags to find the monogrammed stockings you bought. “Could put on a movie and—ooh, you should make those really good spiked coffees you always make. I bought peppermint extract for my baking but we can use that to make them Christmassy.”

“Okay—yeah, I just… so this is like a whole event, huh?”

His sketchy tone is what makes you finally turn around and face him in the living room. He’s got his hands tucked into his pockets, observing the decorations with caution. “I mean, it’s decorating for Christmas.”

“I just didn’t realize Christmas was such a big deal for you—did you buy new pillows? We have to change out our pillows?” he asks, finally searching through some of the bags on his own.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, it’s fine, sweetheart. Really,” Rafe assures. He tears a red pillow with white stitching reading ‘jingle all the way’ out of the bag, setting it on your couch and throwing the plain pillow that occupied the couch before it out of sight. “See, boom. Beautiful. It’s officially Christmas now.”

“Rafe,” you say. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he refutes. You drop the string of garland you were holding and cross your arms, giving him your most stubborn look until he sighs. “It’s just more than I’m used to. The decorations and everything—this is new for me.”

“Didn’t you do this with your family?”

You regret the question as soon as you ask it, but sometimes you just forget that things are different for Rafe. “Not really.”

You don’t press him any further, just coming to stand in front of him, the mistletoe you bought in the dollar section hidden behind your back until you’re right in front of him. “Well. Do you wanna help me this year?”

He looks up when he sees you holding something over him, rolling his eyes once he sees what it is. Rafe leans into kiss you, pulling back after a moment to answer.

“How could I say no to that?”

—

Rafe’s approach to the holidays was officially starting to bother you. When you asked him what his favorite Christmas movie was, he’d shrugged and said ‘Um, I dunno. Maybe that one with the ugly little clay people that they used to play on channel three when we were kids?’

He was extremely confused when you wanted to actually go cut down a real tree out in the mountains on a tree farm, wondering why you hadn’t just bought one at the store along with all of the other decorations. You’d explained that it has to be real because the house has to smell like Christmas, and he’d again shrugged. Before slightly cheering up at the fact that he got to saw down his own tree, carrying it proudly into the house when you got home. That had made you smile a little bit—you hoped he was starting to get into it.

But then he’d just turned bright red when you asked if he had any of his own Christmas decorations to put up, presenting a singular Frank Sinatra Christmas record and nothing else. And you didn’t dare mention it, but decorating the tree with all of the personalized ornaments your parents had kept for you over the years while Rafe had zero of his own had been completely awkward. He tried to shrug it off and help you move around the ornaments and tinsel you did have to cover the bare spots of the tree, but you still felt horrible over the entire thing.

“Rafe, they’re your sisters. You have to get them gifts,” you say in exasperation, rubbing your temples as the two of you went through your Christmas shopping list.

“Y/n/n, listen to me. They’re not gonna buy me gifts either, we’ve never done that,” he explains. “My parents take care of us, and that’s all we need.”

“Well, I already bought Sarah those Birkenstocks she’s been wanting and Wheezie’s eyeshadow palettes are in the mail. So.”

“Then why did you—baby.”

“Because, it’s Christmas. You buy things for the people you love,” you say. “Or you can make a gift if this is like, a consumerism thing.”

“Do we have to get them for our friends, too? Like, all of them?”

You don’t want to tell him that you’d taken care of all of your own friends already, their gifts bought weeks ago and sitting in your closet waiting to be wrapped. “Well, Secret Santa covers Topper. And Kelce and I do gifts every year, so…”

“Since when?” Rafe wonders, his face screwing up.

“Since forever. He bought me these slippers two years ago, look,” you say, propping your feet up on the coffee table.

He huffs. “Well I wouldn’t wanna put my name on a gift for your bestie—oh, fuck. Do we have to get John B a gift, too?”

“Well, dating Sarah for what, three years now? And we’re older than him and we have full-time jobs. And he’s gonna be there on Christmas, right? Yup.”

“Fuuuck,” he whines. “Why did I never realize how much work all of this is?”

“Because your step-mom has probably been taking care of all of this behind the scenes for your family for years. You can put your name on my Kelce gift, so that one’s done.”

“Oh, no, no, no. I wanna see the look on his fuckin’ face when I have a gift for him and he’s empty handed,” Rafe says, smirking and taking your laptop from you, going to search for his own gift.

“Wow, way to get into the holiday spirit. I love the spite.”

“I try.”

Your phone beeps and you start gathering your things, Rafe looking at you with a pout when he sees your jacket on. “Wait, where are you going? I thought we were Christmas shopping?”

“I am. Going to the mainland,” you say, collecting your purse. “Sarah said she’s on her way.”

“Wait, Sarah?”

“Yeah, she asked me to come.”

“Can you—did you guys invite Wheez? I don’t… I don’t want her to feel left out,” he worries.

“Rafe,” you tut, your hand coming to rest on the side of his face. “She was already going. They just asked me to come with them.”

“Really? I like that,” he decides, tugging you down by your scarf for a goodbye kiss.

“Me too.”

—

You treated Rafe’s sisters to a late lunch on the mainland after you’d all three shopped yourselves silly—well, Rafe treated all three of you, because when he asked why you were still gone he’d sent over enough money to cover the entire meal.

“So do you guys hate Christmas, too? Or is that just your scrooge of a brother?” you sighed, making the two girls across from you giggle.

“Rafe doesn’t hate Christmas,” Sarah says. “It’s just not a big deal in our family.”

“He told me that you guys don’t even decorate?”

“Rose does,” Wheezie supplies, pushing some food around on her plate. “But she’s pretty intense about it.”

“Yeah, we don’t get to help,” Sarah laughs. “Full interior decorator mode.”

“Ah,” you nod. Leaving it at that, at least until Wheezie excuses herself to the restroom and you realize Sarah hasn’t taken her eyes off of your face ever since you brought up the topic.

“What’s going on with him?”

“Nothing, Sarah. It’s just… I dunno. Rafe doesn’t seem into it at all,” you say, fiddling with the straw in your iced tea. “It’s like pulling teeth. He didn’t even know how the advent calendar worked—he opened day 22 yesterday because he was hungry.”

“I think for Rafe, it’s different?” she wonders softly. “Things are always different when it comes to him, just with my dad and work. The holidays are busy—all those parties and the networking, you know he hates that shit. So he just doesn’t have much interest in the fun stuff.”

You bite your lip as you nod, never having thought about it that way. “Thanks, Sarah.”

“Don’t tell him I told you that,” she warns. You cross your heart and she rolls her eyes, and you realized you’d really missed her when she was away at college for the fall term.

“You know I won’t. But thank you,” you repeat. “As a token of my gratitude, I feel inclined to tell you that Rafe got both of you gifts this year.”

Her eyes widen.

“What? Why? Since when does he do that?” You give her a deadpan look, pointing at yourself, and she groans in frustration. “Would you stop making my brother perfect? For like, five seconds?”

“What’s going on?” Wheezie says, sitting down at the table again.

“You guys have to buy Rafe a Christmas gift this year,” you tell her, waving at the waiter for the check.

“No,” Wheezie groans. “We have to circle back to the Patagonia store now, don’t we?”

—

Blythe came to spend the holidays in the Outer Banks with Topper this year, which was enough of a reason for your friend group to rent a cabin in the snow for the weekend before Christmas. Kelce bemoans his perpetual spot as the fifth wheel but comes anyway, saying he reserves the right to bring someone home from the one, singular bar in the mountain town, with no ribbing from any of you.

So you load up the car with enough alcohol for twice the amount of time you’ll be there and all of your cutest snow outfits, kicking Rafe out of the passenger seat when you pull up to Topper’s parents’ house for the caravan.

“What?”

“Blythe and I are driving together,” you remind him. “Go get in the car with the boys.”

“C’mon, what?” he whines. “They’re gonna make me sit in the backseat and you know my knees get sore.”

“Cameron,” Blythe says, ripping his door open. “Good to see you, merry Christmas. Get out of my seat.”

“Merry Christmas, Blythe,” he grumbles, offering her his seat when he finally gets out. He motions for you to roll down the window when he comes around to the driver’s side, leaning in for a kiss. “Drive careful, alright? I’ll put on your snow chains at the rest stop.”

“We’ll probably get there first, I’ll wait for you,” you promise. He narrows his eyes.

“Uh, we’re definitely gonna get there faster.”

You peek around Rafe to look at where Topper and Kelce are bickering over how to fit the last sled into the trunk. “Rafe, I know you’re not challenging me to a race in the snow.”

“No,” Rafe warns. “Drive careful, I mean it.”

“Alright, dad,” you tease, making Blythe groan next to you.

“Ew, you too,” she says. “Rafe, go away.”

“See you up there,” he nods, kissing your cheek one more time before heading off to his friends. You laugh as you watch him snatch the sled out of both of their hands where they’re fighting over it, fitting it in seamlessly.

You don’t wait for them to figure out seating arrangements, opting to get an early start on the drive so you and Blythe can stop at Starbucks for Christmas drinks and maybe still have time to pull over and take cute pictures when you first hit the snow.

“How’ve you liked Christmas in the Outer Banks so far?” you ask once the two of you have left the main strip of town. Blythe huffs a sigh and you throw her a glance.

“Good, it’s good. I missed Top—missed all of you. His family is just so intense,” she complains. “And it’s fun, but it’s a lot.”

“See, I have the opposite problem. I think I’m the Topper,” you say. “Rafe doesn’t wanna do anything.”

Blythe laughs. “Would you like to trade? We’ve watched Elf at least three times and I’ve been here for less than a week. And I think his mom wants us to go caroling.”

“That’s not fair,” you whine. “Why don’t I have a simp boyfriend?”

She laughs again, louder this time. “You’re joking right? ‘Make sure you drive careful, sweetheart.’ ‘Oh, don’t bother your pretty little hands putting on your own snow chains, sweetheart.’ ‘Let me ride in the car with you because I can’t stand two hours spent apart from you, sweetheart.’”

“Alright, enough,” you mumble, your cheeks burning as you pay attention to the drive. “I see your point. I just wish he was having fun, it’s our first Christmas living together and he just doesn’t seem into it at all.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

“Why would I do that?”

—

Loose lips get you in the end. After a day of Rafe walking off to find better service for a phone call when everyone is building a snowman, missing out on making mulled wine with you and Kelce because he was watching the game in the living room, you finally snap when he doesn’t put on the matching ugly sweater you bought him.

“Rafe. Why?”

“What?”

“Where’s your sweater?” you ask, tugging on the plain black shirt he’s wearing.

“Oh. Um,” he mumbles, adjusting his grip on his beer, his thumb nail peeling off the label. “It was itchy. And I don’t like that the bells make noise whenever I move.”

You certainly didn’t skip out on the mulled wine, pushing him back into the bedroom the two of you had claimed and ignoring any jabs from your friends. “Okay, I’m not doing this anymore. What is going on with you?”

“What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he says, but his eyes give him away.

“Am I bothering you with all of this?” you ask, motioning to his discarded sweater on the bed. “You look miserable.”

Rafe groans, dropping his face into his hands where he sits at the end of the bed. “I’m sorry.”

That tugs on your heart strings and you feel bad you were getting a little testy, sitting beside him and putting your hand on his back. “About what, baby?”

“I just don’t know how to do any of this stuff. I don’t know the songs or the movies, I don’t have any of the fun traditions that you guys and all of your families do. Christmas for me always just meant stress and more work and never knowing what gift to get my dad that he’d actually like and—”

“Breathe, babe,” you implore.

“Yeah, trying,” he nods, catching his breath. “It’s just—this sounds so stupid, but. It’s hard for me this time of year. I dunno.”

“Rafe,” you say sadly, leaning your head on his shoulder once he’s settle down a little. “I didn’t know.”

He sits there silently for a second, just letting you lean into him. “Hm, figured Sarah would’ve told you.”

You look back up at him and he eyes you warily, and you sigh in defeat—of course Sarah told him. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to figure out if it something I was doing wrong.”

“S’okay,” he shrugs, pressing a kiss to your head. “It’s not you. I love watching you have fun with all of this. I just don’t… I don’t think I can see the excitement the way everyone else can. Just brings up bad memories.”

You make a displeased noise. “But Rafe—”

“It’s almost over, alright?” he rushes, standing up to leave the room. “And then I’ll be back to normal, I promise.”

You try to give Rafe space that night because you can tell he’s upset with himself and the way he’s handling things, opting to get caught up in the card games by the fire and Blythe’s special eggnog. He’s putting on a brave face in front of all of your friends, tucking himself behind you and hiding from conversations at any opportunity, but you can see right through the cerulean stare. You feel the urgency in his needy touch—how he just needs to be close to you but can’t or won’t explain why.

The other three don’t push it, but you’re grateful when they seem to all get the hint they should step away for a second, leaving the two of you alone with one last knowing stare sent from Kelce. The fire is crackling in front of the two of you where you’re curled up in his lap, soft Christmas classics playing from the TV while laughter spills in from the kitchen occupied by your friends.

“Do you wanna know one of my favorite Christmas memories?”

“Hm?” he asks, looking startled by your voice. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“My parents’ Christmas Eve party, when we were, god—eighteen, nineteen? It was the first one after we went away for college,” you start, waiting for him to catch up. He nods like he knows what you’re talking about.

“Oh, yeah,” Rafe says, then his eyes widen. “Oh, yeah. Oh my god, was that the one where we hotboxed your pool house, because we didn’t know we had to start sitting at the adults’ table that year?”

You giggle at the memory, thinking about the boys, you, Gretchen, and Margot sitting in a square at the end of the adult’s table, all trying not to give yourselves away. You sat there in silence until Margot missed her mouth and spilled practically an entire flute of champagne down the front of her dress, making Kelce laugh which caused a ripple effect until you were all teary-eyed messes.

And you would’ve been horrified by the disappointed look on your father’s face at the head of the table if Rafe hadn’t accidentally bumped his knee into yours from where he sat beside you, body shaking as he tried to contain his laughter. He’d brushed a hand over your knee and leaned down to whisper a sorry into your ear, and if you couldn’t use the excuse of being under an influence, you know your starry-eyed look as you told him ‘no problem, RC’ would’ve been a dead giveaway of your feelings. “That’s the one.”

“God, I still can’t believe we got away with that.”

“We did not. My dad definitely knew,” you tell him.

Rafe groans, but he’s smiling now, even where he’s hiding his face in your shoulder. “I cannot believe he lets me date you sometimes. Seriously.”

“But, see? Christmas can be fun sometimes, even if it’s just getting stoned at ill-advised times and causing a ruckus at the Y/l/n family Christmas Eve extravaganza.”

“Mm,” Rafe hums wistfully. “My dad and Rose went away on business on the 25th that year. I think Sarah went to John B’s—Wheez and I picked up a ton of Chinese food after we burned the turkey.”

You deflate against him. “Rafe.”

“No, don’t. This isn’t a ‘feel sorry for me’ moment—it was actually kinda nice, if I remember. We stayed in our pajamas and watched those clay people movies all day,” he says. “I dunno. Maybe Christmas isn’t horrible all the time.”

It was a start.

—

Through the years your friends have all calmed down and grown up, but that doesn’t stop any of you from getting a little rowdy at your parents’ Christmas party this year. Margot comes and Gretchen finally made it home too, so you blame the repeat cocktails on the nostalgia and everyone being back together.

And things are different now because when someone brings out the mistletoe you gladly stand up on your toes and plant one on Rafe in front of all of your friends, whereas when the same scenario happened when you were seventeen you’d been a deer in headlights, squealing in surprise when Margot sprung into action, pushing Rafe out of the way so she she could kiss you instead—a true friend, she is. Everyone laughed it off but they still tease you about it to this day.

Today, you’re still lip-locked with Rafe, ignoring the hoots and whistles from your friends, until Kelce is breaking you up and squeezing in for a cheek kiss from either of you and effectively ending the display. “Alright, mom and dad. We get it, you figured out your feelings. But it’s been a year of this shit and my eyes can’t take it anymore. Separate.”

“Seriously,” Gretchen agrees. “It was almost more fun when you didn’t know.”

“No it wasn’t,” Margot and Topper chorus.

Gretchen rolls her eyes and tugs you away with a looped arm, marching you both back toward the more dignified area of the party. “C’mon, I wanna go flirt with that bartender your mom hired.”

“Ooh, wait, really?!” you ask. “I love that for you.”

“And you need air,” she laughs, eyes scanning your flushed expression. “I swear, next time I come home you’re gonna be pregnant, Y/n/n.”

“Mmm, no. We don’t wanna have kids until we move back from California,” you say, immediately clapping a hand over your mouth as you realize what you just said. “Oh, fuck. Gretch—”

“Until you… what?”

“We haven’t told anyone, okay? So, shh,” you beg. “We just started talking about it. My parents don’t even know.”

Her eyebrows remain at their spot practically shot into her hairline. “You know I hate to ask. But do his?”

“No, nobody does,” you whisper. “So tight lid, alright?”

“Oh my god, wait. That’s so exciting,” she says, her lip pouting in adoration. “You’ll be so much closer to me. God, he’s so whipped—”

“Okay,” you interrupt, hands on her shoulders. “Let’s go find Cute Bartender and see if we can get him to shut you up, alright?”

“Maybe he’ll be my Rafe.”

Cute Bartender was decidedly no Rafe, at least in your eyes, but he was falling for every one of Gretchen’s usual tricks. You sipped your champagne flute in amusement as you watched her at work from a little ways down. She’d just moved onto asking him how exactly a Sex on a Beach got its name when a presence sidles up next to you, a black suit jacket brushing your bare shoulder.

“You’re way too pretty to be sitting here all by yourself.”

A comment like that would normally knock you off-kilter these days, ready to be shrugged off or politely declined depending on the situation. But coupled with your boyfriend’s very familiar voice, it has you turning to look at him in amusement.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised your boyfriend isn’t around,” Rafe says, making a show of surveying your parents’ entire house. “I mean if I were him, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

“Don’t have one,” you decide, stifling a giggle when something a little offended flashes in his eyes. Rafe shakes his head, sipping a little more of his drink before re-committing to the bit.

“No? Well that works out for me then, doesn’t it?”

“Depends.”

You’re out of practice in your flirt game but you can tell it doesn’t matter. Rafe’s a little tipsy and he’s absolutely hanging off of your every word. “Have we met before? I feel like I recognize you.”

“Hm,” you wonder, eyes roaming over Rafe in his black tuxedo like you’re trying to place where you know him from, when you’re really just checking him out for the tenth time that night. “Maybe. I grew up around here.”

“Me too,” Rafe says. “Shocked we never ran into each other.”

“A shame, really,” you say, testing the waters as you move closer to him. Rafe twitches where he leans against the bar when a festively painted fingernail traces the buttons on his crisp white shirt. “What should we do about that?”

“I’d like to take you home,” Rafe blurts, blinking dumbly. “And maybe you can just stay forever because you actually live there too because I’ve been in love with you for, like, half of my life.”

You throw your head back and laugh, slapping him on his chest. But he just grabs your hand and keeps you tucked close to him, gleeful smile matching your own. “Baby, you were doing so good for a second.”

“You know I can’t help it when I’m this drunk, Y/n/n,” he groans, still smiling when you wrap your arms around his waist under his suit jacket. “Fuck, I forgot how good of a flirt you are. You never pull the moves on me anymore.”

“Maybe you’re just immune to my charms by now.”

“Not possible,” he says. His eyes are glassy and he’s been smiling all night, and you know he’s finally starting to come around on Christmas just from the way he’s looking at you.

“Rafe? And Y/n, is that you?”

Your arms unwind from Rafe and fall to your side on instinct, faced with your AP Calculus teacher for the first time in years. “Mr. Torres?”

“I thought that was you two, wow,” the older man says. “How are you both?”

You take turns catching him up on all of your life updates over the years, stumbling over your words a little from the alcohol and from the fact that your old math teacher caught you both seconds away from making out in the middle of this party. You knew better than to be getting handsy when half of Figure 8 was in attendance tonight, and you guess this was your punishment. Mr. Torres orders another round of drinks for the three of you and covers the tip for all of it, turning to say one last thing before being on his way again. “You know, I always thought there was something there between you two.”

“I’m—I’m sorry?” Rafe says, clearing his throat.

“Yes, that year I had you both in my class.”

“Oh, we weren’t dating then, Mr. Torres,” you clarify. “This is uh, a little more recent.”

“No? Could’ve fooled me back in the day,” he says, smiling at you both. “Well, happy holidays.”

Mr. Torres walks off and you both stand there in a stunned silence until you groan, making Rafe laugh against you. “That was humiliating.”

“God. Who knew our math teacher was such a romantic?”

—

John B drops the two of you at home on his way back to The Cut that night, volunteered as a designated driver for the night by his girlfriend. Rafe lets you take the front seat but that doesn’t stop him from tipsily complaining about the lack of safety features in the back of the beat-up van.

“Is this thing even street legal?”

“I try not to think about that,” John B admits, pulling up to your street. “Monsieur and madame, your destination.”

“Thanks, kid,” Rafe says, helping you out of the front seat. “Merry Christmas. See you tomorrow.”

The two of you still-slightly-drunkenly shuffle around the house in a practiced routine for coming home after nights out, but you’re having a harder time with your heels this particular night. By the time you finally get them off and leave them by the front door, you expect Rafe to be in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Instead you find him with his bow tie undone around his neck, scarf and jacket still on, standing in front of the tree holding a small, neatly-wrapped box in his hands. “Hey, c’mere for a sec?”

“What’s this?”

“Well… Christmas is all about traditions with the people you love, right? And I thought it’d be cool if we started one,” he says shyly. “I mean, I plan to spend at least a few more with you, if that’s alright.”

“I was thinking quite a few,” you correct, feeling yourself smile as you slowly walk into the living room.

“Quite a few,” he agrees. “And one I always wanted to do when we were kids was open the first present on Christmas Eve, so I was thinking—I have one for you, sweetheart.”

“You do?” you say, pushing past him to kneel on the floor, digging around for a perfect present for him to open tonight. You hadn’t really planned for this but Rafe was trying, and he looked so sweet standing by your tree holding that box in his hands. “I can find one for you, too.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It’s kinda for both of us, anyway” he says softly, leading the two of you to sit on the couch together.

He places it in your lap and you slip a finger under the paper immediately, admiring his adequate wrapping job as you tear it open to reveal a white box. “And it’s definitely not, like, a huge deal, or anything—”

But you can’t hear him anymore as you find the wooden ornament inside the box, slowly pulling it out. It’s a picture frame, with a photo of you sitting in Rafe’s lap in Massachusetts from just a few weeks ago. At the bottom of the frame is an inscription that says ‘rafe & y/n. first christmas.’

“And listen,” he rushes to continue. “I know it isn’t technically our first, ‘cause we’ve been dating for over a year. But I dunno, it’s our first tree together in our first home and everything, and I just thought, you put all of those ornaments up on the tree this year, and this is the first time I’ve enjoyed Christmas in a really, really long time, and—”

“You know,” you squeak out, feeling those annoying tears start to brim your eyes. “For someone who doesn’t like Christmas very much, you give really great gifts.”

“You like it?” he asks in earnest, his hand falling to your knee. You look up, feeling the first tears overflow.

“Rafe, I love it.”

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​ for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?"  Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but --  you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer​, @imluckybitches​, @slothykrueger​, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland​, @rspbrryy​, @iv-bts​, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts​, @mxxngxdss​, @bluewhale52​, @milesjeon11​, @diamonddia-mond​, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97​, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn​, @bts-7beauts​, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @nikkiordonez12​, @kaitswrld​, @skamlover200​, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria​, @jikooksgirl19​, @hobbledehoy26​, @singular-itae​, @dchimminie​, @lowlifeoeuvre​, @sugaslittlekookies​, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth​, @softysuho​, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire​, @betysotelo18​, @jeonmisha​, @iwanttohitmyself​, @ayyyocee​, @neverthefirstchoice​, @itsbangtanoclock​, @little7bitchh​, @veryuniquenamegoeshere​, @deathkat657​, @firstlovesuga-93​, @namjoonia​, @paperpurple​, @muzikabijou​, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites​, @kleff03​, @ruinsofangels​, @brightwingr5​, @leekanchol​, @rkivemagic​, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside​, @melaninkpops​, @y00ngisbabygirl​, @ungodlyjoon​, @prochnost513​, @dunixxd​, @athenakyle​, @igotnotype​, @chxmachxps​, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog​, @alpaca1612​, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80​, @btsmylife21​, @deeepvibes​, @httpminyg​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​​, @bt21chim​​, @flowerboyhobi​​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[collecting-stories]

Baby, it’s Cold - JJ Maybank

Request: “Baby, it’s cold outside” & “We could cuddle by the fireplace?” w/ JJ

A/N: Some Christmassy JJ...also, now that I mentioned it in this fic, I really wanna do a ‘kiss my best friend’ challenge fic thing...I don’t know how that would work. 

TW: Christmas 

Winter in the OBX Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

There was a very real chance that your mom had been playing Christmas music non-stop since Thanksgiving day. The tree was still on its way to fully being decorated and your house looked trapped between hallmark channel worthy and post Thanksgiving madness still, boxes laid out with garland, ornaments, faux trees, nativity scenes, and accent pillows cluttering the small house. Everything smelled like balsam and gingerbread and was it too soon to be sick of the holiday? 

It wasn’t like you had any particular reason to dread this most magical time of year. Though it definitely had something to do with the blond that was currently helping string lights outside for your mom. You had been best friends with JJ for as long as you could remember and you had been wishing it was more than that for probably just as long. You watched those cheesy ‘kiss my best friend’ challenges on TikTok and imagined that it was you and JJ, though your imaginations even ended with rejection. 

Stupid maybe, but you wanted that cute Christmas love. Bringing your boyfriend around for holidays that you no longer have to suffer through alone, kissing under the mistletoe, going Black Friday shopping, decorating…it wasn’t like you didn’t already do most of these things but you always thought it would be so different if you and JJ were together. 

“This is the third time this song has come on!” JJ called, leaning against the open living room window and drawing your attention away from the ornaments you were hanging. 

“What?” 

“This song…baby it’s cold outside,” JJ sang, slightly off key, “it’s the third time it’s come on.” 

“It’s a different version.” You replied, abandoning your work to come over to the window. “How’s it looking outside?” 

Your mom had promised JJ a hundred dollars in cash if he helped to decorate with you while she was at work, an offer JJ was happy to accept and you were happy to pester him over. “So basically, you only hang out with me for money?” You had joked when he told you earlier in the morning what your mom had said. You both knew that JJ would have helped anyway, your mom was always sweet to him, half the time treating him like he was her own son.  

“Looking pretty fucking awesome, wait till we light this place up.” JJ replied.  

You nodded, looking back into the living room at the boxes that were empty and ready to go back into the attic. JJ had helped with that too, hauling boxes and the giant bag for the Christmas tree down the attic ladder with you. “I need to carry these up before we finish up.”  

“I’ll carry them up when I’m done hanging lights...but it’ll cost you extra.” He teased, leaning in the window more.  

You rolled your eyes, used to JJ’s ridiculous demands. He would rope you into paying for lunch or buying him a new bracelet while he flirted with the cashier and pretended to be a tourist at the Ron Jon’s on figure eight or waxing his surfboard because he was lazy and almost never took care of it. Once he even made you buy weed from his cousin because they were ‘beefing’ and he didn’t want to talk to him. So while you ran through the possibilities, you conceded, agreeing to whatever his cost might be. “Okay, what do I owe you?”

“A kiss under mistletoe.”

“How festive,” you deadpanned, turning back to your current job and leaving him leaning into the living room. The suggestion had made your head race just the smallest amount and your face grow hot but you played it off by walking away. JJ was always saying bullshit stuff and this, you knew, was no different.  

“I’m serious!” He called.  

JJ let the subject drop, finishing the lights outside of the house before putting the ladder back in the garage and heading inside to help carry the boxes back up to the attic. You were finishing cleaning up, vacuuming the needles that fell despite the faux tree and making sure that there were no stray pieces of tissue paper lying around. You deliberately ignored him when he came in, wanting to avoid any more teasing.  

It wasn’t the first time that JJ had said something like that. You were almost a hundred percent certain that he had no idea you had a crush on him but every once in a while, he would make a joke like that and you thought maybe Kiara had told him. Maybe he knew and he was teasing you on purpose. JJ wasn’t the cruel sort though so you usually wrote it off as quickly as the thought crossed your mind. But it still bugged you when he said it. Like picking at a fresh wound, he was reminding you all over again that you liked him and that you had for a long time and that he would never like you back.  

“Okay,” JJ said to no one in particular, “finished.”

“Thanks...I really appreciate the help.” You admitted, crossing your arms and looking around the living room. From the stockings on the fireplace to the tree in front of the bay window, everything had come together.  

“Do I get my payment now?”

“I’m not kissing you JJ,” you replied, denying his earlier request all over again.  

“Why?”

“Cause you’re not being serious.”  

“Why do you always think I’m joking?” He asked, following you into the kitchen.  

“Because, you always are. You flirt with everyone and you never mean it.”  

“Okay…so what if I meant it?”  

“JJ just…stop okay? It’s not funny.” You replied, a little more agitated as he continued prodding at the joke.  

“I’m not being funny.” He dropped the playfulness in his voice, trying to sound as serious as possible in an effort to convince you.  

“JJ-”  

“Come on,” JJ leaned in closer to you, pressing his palm against the cool tiles of the kitchen counter, “we could cuddle by the fireplace, mack on each other with the tree all decorated. It’d be like a hallmark movie.”  

“There is nothing about you that is like a hallmark movie,” you laughed, “and I’m not gonna kiss you just because you finished carrying some boxes up to the attic and you think it’d be hilarious. Did Kiara tell you?”

JJ tilted his head to the side, eyebrows raised in slight confusion as he tried to decide exactly what Kiara might have told him that you’re getting at. “I don’t know what you mean.” He replied, “what did she tell me about what?”  

“That I like you,” you admitted, crossing your arms and looking away from you. Not exactly how you imagined confessing to him. Not that you imagined confessing to him at all. “Is that why you’re doing this, because you know that I like you?”

“No...hey, you’re my best friend, you really think I’d do some shit like that?” He asked, “I’m not joking and if I’d known that you liked me, I woulda just said something.”  

“Yeah, no...I didn’t mean that...I don’t think you’d be mean or something I just...” You sighed, “I just thought you were joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay...yeah, I got it.”  

“So can I kiss you?” JJ asked, reaching out to take your hands in his.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so excited,” he laughed, pulling you closer to him so he could kiss you.  

You smiled as you pulled away, “I’m so excited, I’m radiating with excitement.” You replied, the fluttering feeling that was sparking goosebumps across your arms at the thought of JJ actually liking you back held at bay only long enough for you to try and act unfazed. You weren’t though and JJ knew it, you could tell by the grin on his face as he leaned in close to you again and you found yourself looking forward to the holiday just a little bit more than you had been when you’d started the day.  

-

If you wanna be tagged in my obx stuff fill out this form

taglist: @maybankbby @alanniys @stylesyourmine @nicolee-anne @dudenhaaa27 @alexoberlinluthor @thecaptainsgingersnap @purple-flamingo 

[sokka-simp]

Christmas Headcanons

Bakugo, Deku, Todoroki S. x reader

A/N: so I’m randomly making this because I think my blog needs some Christmas Headcanons and I myself love Bakugo so he’s a given but I know there are some Deku and Todoroki fans that may like my fics somewhere so I added them on for ✨v a r i e t y✨

Fluff

Bakugo

Bakugo was never one that was super big on Christmas, like don’t get me wrong, he didn’t dislike Christmas he just didn’t really care

The only thing he liked about it was getting presents and bragging about them to his friends

He only ever got presents from his parents and Deku because he never EVER bought people gifts

That was until he went to UA and he met you and the rest of the Bakusquad

Who all LOVE Christmas

His first year there he still refused to buy any of them Christmas gifts but no ho ho the others didn’t think the same

You got him an All Might figure

Kiri got him new gloves cause he kept burning through his

Mina got him a mini Christmas tree, which he acted particularly upset about because ‘I don’t even give a fuck about Christmas Pinky!’ He liked it though which was obvious to everyone else

Denki got him a bra for his ‘bakutitties’, Sero had to tape him to the wall to make sure Denki wasn’t gruesomely murdered

Sero got him a cool black and orange hoodie Bakugo was taped to the wall again just for fun and as an extra gift from Sero

He felt bad, so he went and got everyone something for New Years ‘since it’s a tradition in his family. Tch.’ and not because he didn’t get them anything for Christmas

After that first year, he liked Christmas a lot more

You watch Die Hard multiple times every year because Bakugo thinks it’s the only “Christmas” movie worth watching

You agree but force him to watch other movies too

He only does it so you guys can cuddle, he denies that though

“You pulled me into your side before the intro was finished and you’re gonna say you don’t like cuddles?” “No I didn’t dumbass, shut the fuck up! ....and play another one.” “YOU DONT EVEN LIKE CHRSITMAS MOVIES! YOU JUST LIKE CUDDLES! ADMIT IT.” “NO I FUCKING DONT, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND TURN ON THE GRINCH OR SOME SHIT!” “YOU ARE THE GRINCH! Wait don’t leave 🥺” “tch. Come here.”

You guys cuddle a lot in general because you’re both touch starved, but Christmas time makes it more normal so you guys cuddle a lot more

Like a lot

Not in public though, bakubaby isn’t a fan of PDA except hand holding ‘cause it’s cold’

But if you’re alone or in the 1-A building you guys cuddle all the time. You’re in the common room on a couch, boom cuddling. You’re doing homework together, boom sitting in his lap. You’re watching a movie in his bed, boom spooning.

He makes you special homemade hot chocolate

And regular chocolate

And literally anything you want

You buy him special spicy chocolate cause you can’t cook for shit, or at least not good enough for Bakugo

You tried once and burned chocolate at 3 in the morning, setting off the fire alarm, and causing everyone to have to evacuate. He made fun of you for a good month or 2 after that. He honestly still does

You buy and force him to wear ugly Christmas sweaters every year

You buy some for the bakusquad too

You have epic snow battles, like, I almost broke your nose and had a flu half of break after spending hours in freezing weather snow battles

You’re both competitive though, so you both end up either never winning or having the same amount of wins and it pisses you both off sooooooo much

You both spend days looking for the perfect gift for each other after getting together

Like you have a straight up list for everytime he even slightly hints at liking something because he sure as hell won’t tell you what he wants

You got him new mountain climbing equipment, an All Might poster, and a shirt that said ‘I’m stupid’ so you could wear the ‘im with stupid’ one

You spend Christmas Eve at one of your houses and Christmas Day at the other

You’re parents buy you and Bakugo matching Pajamas for Christmas Day, whether it’s at your house or his

When he opens your gift he’s vibing until the shirt. He glares at you so hard, that if you didn’t know he was whipped for you, you probably would have pissed yourself.

You laughed instead which caused a long string of curses

After opening gifts you guys spend the day cuddling and having snowball fights then going out with the Bakusquad for Christmas desserts

Deku

Deku looooooooves Christmas

He’s one of those people who claim to like buying people gifts more than getting gifts

Like he buys gifts for everyone in the class. And the teachers. And principal Nezu. And all his favorite pro-heros. And his mom. And that random homeless dude on the street. And his favorite food place’s employees. And just everyone.

He goes broke every year

He’s a liar though, he loves opening gifts. Sometimes he feels bad, but if it has something to do with All Might, he’ll let himself forget the price

The first year at UA, you suggested secret Santa for the Dekusquad and everyone loved it, especially Deku

Deku got Uraraka

Uraraka got You

You got Todoroki

Todoroki got Iida

Iida got Tsuyu

and Tsuyu got Deku

Deku, Iida and you went alllllll out

Urakaka tried to get something good but she didn’t have a lot to spend

~Baby’s broke 👊🏼😔

Todoroki didn’t really care and just asked Deku what Iida would want

Tsuyu got Deku the first All Might thing she saw above 10 dollars

You and Deku mega bonded while being stressed over gifts and started having gift shopping dates hangouts

You went out on your first date together a few days after Christmas, when Deku realized he couldn’t keep using Christmas shopping as an excuse to hang out

The next year, during Christmas, you did everything together

Decorate your dorms, decorate the common room, go gift shopping, ambush Iida with snowballs, cuddle, watch Christmas movies and so on

You and Deku 100% recreate Hallmark Christmas movies with the Dekusquad. They all vibe, except Todoroki because he thinks it is so stupid

Deku’s mom knits everyone from the Dekusquad ugly Christmas sweaters with their initials on it every year

Your family invites Deku and his mom over to have Christmas dinner with them

You buy him the most limited edition All Might stuff you can find

You stay up all night just so you can order it as soon as you can, you will literally camp outside of stores in snow so you can get it for him

He does the same for your interest though so it’s worth it

And it’s especially worth it when you get to see his eyes light up when he sees what you got him

You both open presents separately with your family in the morning, but you meet up a few hours before dinner to exchange your gifts to each other and get hot chocolate from your favorite cafe

Bonus story: One time you and Deku decided to go to a cat cafe on a whim and saw Aizawa sensei laying on his back in the middle of the cafe with cats all over him. You all stared at each other until you and Deku slowly backed out of the cafe. You 3 never brought it up. But you and Deku laughed about the 32 customer of the month pictures of Aizawa that were on the wall.

Deku has straight up cried opening your gifts before

You love him so much 🥺💕😩

And when you open your gift and get the goofy smile full of love on your face, Deku can’t help but think he’s the luckiest guy on Earth.

It’s just both your favorite time of the year

Todoroki

Todoroki never celebrated Christmas with his family unless it was for plublicity or something

His mom would buy him and his siblings all small gifts but she didn’t have much freedom to go and get anything big or really wanted by the kids

They all appreciated it nonetheless

So when the Dekusquad forced asked him to join the secret santa, he didn’t know what to do at all

So he went to you and to get you to help him find a perfect gift for his secret santa person, which was Uraraka

You agreed to help, being the amazing significant other that you are

You were no help, at all. You could not stop laughing when he pulled up dumb gifts

And when you found out what you were going to get him for Christmas you teased him and gave him hints every 5 minutes just to annoy him

So he ended up going to Deku and Iida because one was serious all the time and the other was so obsessed with Christmas, he changed his comforter to be All Might in a Christmas hat

They helped a lot more

He still enjoyed hanging out with you though

You and todoroki have weekly ‘Make fun of Hallmark Movies’ nights each week, starting at the beginning of December obviously and going until January.

You stay up til like 4 in the morning cuddling and having fights about who’s the most annoying character

You always buy Todoroki candy canes because ‘look sho, they look just like you, and they’re sweet like you too’

Cue the mass amount of blushing everytime you say anything remotely nice to him ever

For Christmas you got him a few things but the best is an Endeavor dart board. You saw it and got it with no hesitation.

Your gift for him consists of his dart board, mini candy canes, a soba place gift card, and a coupon book, hand-made, full of coupons that just say ‘cuddle with Y/N’

One of his gifts for you is an ‘I hate endeavor shirt’ because if he’s the president of the ‘I Hate Endeavor’ club, you’re Vice President.

The amount of times Todoroki has had to stop you from attacking his dad on sight is higher than the amount of people All Might has saved

But the other gifts really depend on what you like, because baby doesn’t wanna disappoint you, not after he has been disappointed every Christmas until you

Todoroki 100% always comes over for Christmas. Your parents would drag Todoroki from his house if they had too

He comes over Christmas Eve and spends the night, then stays for everything. Opening gifts, stockings, Christmas dinner, etc.

He even has his own stocking with his name embroidered on it

When he opened your gift the evil smile he had on his face made you know it was perfect

And the soba place card made him just as happy, he’s so lucky to have you

He loves the giddy face you have as you open the shirt first and put it right on over your pajamas

Wow he loves you

Wow you love him

[mintenochian]

what other people want added to Minecraft: g u n s

what I want added to Minecraft

•Birds

-For multiple biomes, but mainly for the forests.

-Songbirds would add SO MUCH life to the otherwise quiet areas of the game

-Ravens and crows would be awesome and could use some of the parrot mimicking AI

-Cardinals in the snow biomes would bring a GORGEOUS pop of colour into the white atmosphere

-Seriously we need something to populate the sky, parrots do NOT fly like they should

-nests in trees, can find eggs in them

-doesn't really add a use but fun new feather types would be cool

•Owls

-technically still a bird but would go really well in covered rooftop forests and snow biomes

-we're already getting larger avians added in the form of vultures so why not more large birds?

•Mice and / or rats

-absolute precious babies

-sadly would go well with owls :(

-with cave update coming we need adorable rodents scurrying around

-lil bastards could make mouseholes inside of blocks

-will they be tameable? idk.

-adds the necessity for cheese

•Deer

-MOJANG this is a MUST, this is a NEED

-You literally have pigs, chickens, cows, and sheep spawning in forests what the fuck

-Deer with spotty baby fawns??? Yes

-Young bucks with different stages of antler growth? Yes

-Fawns frolicking in flower forests bc they feel safe

-Stripped wood appearing on trees where bucks scrape velvet off their antlers

-Being able to collect sets of antlers when they fall off periodically (would NOT be attainable by killing the deer, you have to wait for them to shed)

•Elk and Moose

-Same vein as deer

-Bigger, much bigger, neutral instead of passive, less shy

-Snowy biomes

-Better additions than fucking llamas tyvm

-Sidenote but savannahs could also really use some endangered deer-like species to help raise awareness for their status

•Squirrels

-Mojang plz

-Adds nuts to Minecraft ;)

-Black, grey, red, and mixed colour squirrels and breeding

-Brings life to forests like songbirds and deer

•Bears

-Mojang bby you literally already have a neutral bear in Minecraft why have you not reskinned it for grizzly/brown/black bears?

-Bear caves

-Hibernating mobs

-Brings more use to the beehives and bees, bears could be attracted to any area that has more than one bee hive with honey

•WOLVES AND DOGS

-They NEED the ocelots and cats update

-More wolf types (red, timber, snow, black, etc)

-Actual wolf packs (the AI would be difficult to program but the doges are worth it)

-Please let the howl at the moon, if foxes get to say ringdingding all night long wolves deserve to be allowed to howl

-More dog breeds (I know that there's no reason for domesticated dog breeds in Minecraft but ACTUALLY THERE IS)

-Hunting dogs like springers that can jump and run faster

-Foxhounds :D

-Most Important Goodest Boy: Herding dogs like collies and sheepdogs

-Herding dogs could be found in plains where cows and sheep spawn and create herds

-LET DOGS LAY DOWN FOR FUCKS SAKE

•Herding

-Instead of having to pen up and enclose your livestock you could form herds of cows and sheep

-Your Goodest Boi herding dog would protect them and move around with them when they graze

-Just soft peaceful minecraft tingz

•Salt licks

-Something SO SMALL but would make SO MUCH HAPPINESS

-Drawing new cows into your herd by putting up a salt lick

-I'm soft

-I guess salt would be a new ore???

•Bird feeders

-idk I think it would be cool

-excess seeds used for SOMETHING

•Raccoons

-The coolness of wolves, the chaos of foxes, the cunning of cats

-thumbs

-be gay do crimes

-can open chests (trigger trap chests to catch them?)

-Fantastic little shits

-Not tameable but will trust players like foxes do

•Snakes

-I know it's a lot to ask and it would be hard to make them look good

-But??? Imagine a tiny lil garter snake in your garden

-unlikely but would be so fantastic

•Rope

-climeable

-please Mojang we need this so badly

-imagine the ships? The bridges? The bell towers and everything?

-super easy to add, just reskin vines and add a string crafting recipie

•Butterflies and Moths

-Bflies could be a unique mob to flower forests and friends with bees

-if moobloom is added they would all be BEST BUDS

-get it "buds" ahahaha

-help with flower polination but just gives a TON of life to flower forests

-We literally have lanterns in minecraft why do we NOT have moths? Such a cool aesthetic addition.

-helps fill both the daytime and nighttime sky

•Hummingbirds

-fourth member of BEST BUDS

-just soft baby

-i love birbs okay

-the only avian who does not work for the bourgeoisie

•Fireflies

-10 million of them please

-they give great hugs

-adds so much atmosphere to the night world

•Cheese

-We have milk

-We have, presumably, goat milk

-Quit being cowards and add butter and cheese

-Butter churn job block for villagers

-V funny bc they have no arms to churn with?? Oh well

•Seashells

-Something decorative and beautiful that could 1) liven up beaches and 2) have snails and crabs inside!

-Mojang plz do not add sand dollars to the game people already don't know how to tell if they're still alive before trying to take them home

•Whales

-WHALES.

-Imagine something as massive as the ender dragon but peaceful. Allows you to stand on them (idk how but make it happen Jeb)

-WHALE SONGS.

-Being so deep and far out into the ocean, and when the moon is high in the sky and you're sitting in your boat, you just hear the beautiful melancholy sounds of the whales in the distance

•Jellyfish

-Idk if y'all know this but the glow squid is a bad idea

-Dream buddy you fucked up, please use your influence to get in contact with Mojang and have them redo the vote. People would have so much regained respect for you if you tried to fix your mistake.

-Also why does a speedrunner get to tell millions of people what mob would bring more life to Minecraft? He's only playing the game for 5 minutes smh

-aNYWAYS

-Jellyfish could literally do everything the glow squid is going to and look better for it AND possibly be neutral instead of peaceful

•Orcas

-Not much to say but it would liven up the frozen water biomes a bit

•Penguins

-You already know why

-Imagine giving a new home to all the Club Penguin players? Legendary.

-Gender doesn't exist in Minecraft but we all know penguins would be hella gay

•Lobsters

-I think they would be cute

-You would NOT BE ABLE TO BOIL THEM ALIVE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

•Mermaids

-Never going to happen since passive mobs are generally real life animals but it would be so cool

•Otters

-they can hold hands

-brings life to the rivers

-super cute

•Frogs and possibly toads

-Swamp gods

-Absolute mad lads

-maybe grow from tadpoles

-wouldn't do much but needed

•Fairy Forests

-NOT Twilight Forests. Not a new dimension.

-Just gentle hidden groves in forests

-ADD FAIRY RING GENERATION TO MINECRAFT.

•Big cats

-Tigers, lions, bobcats, panthers

-Literally anything that could finally add a strong predator possibility to savannahs and jungles

•Zebras and Giraffes

-Shy and skittish

-cannot ride (their skeletal structure is NOT MADE FOR CARRYING HUMANS)

-Super cute tho, brings much needed life to savannahs

•Camels

-The better llama

-Can honestly just be a reskin

-brings much needed life to the desert

-spits and wears carpet and forms caravans like llamas

•Lemurs

-Easier to add to "jungles" than monkeys

-it would be really cool if we could just get a Rainforest biome

-King Julian stans awaken

•Red pandas

-we need them

-cuter than normal pandas and you can @ me

-better idea than sloths or koalas

•More Eldritch Horror Hostile Mobs

-Fun fact time

-The enchanting table language already has Lovecraftian references

-"phnglui mglwnafh cthulhu rlyeh wgahnagl fhtagn" is literally a quote from the enchanting table

-translates to "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

-Bet you didn't know that fun fact

-aNYWAYS add the Kraken to Minecraft instead of the shitty guardians. Thanks.

-imagine how cool it would be to see lights slowly extinguish as something terrifying and dangerous slowly moves in for the kill

-torches get extinguished and can get relit

-if not relit fast enough Something will be waiting

•Ice statues

-We have giant fossils and ship wrecks and cool stuff like that but please imagine finding a GIANT humanoid ice sculpture in an ice spikes biome

-maybe bones inside to show you that... That wasn't carved or naturally generated.

•Skeletons

-Not a mob but a decoration block

-Found in temples, mineshafts, and caves

-implied to be the remains of miners and explorers

-rare

-also implies that every skeleton you kill has some backstory since they look the same

•Constellations

-Not real world star maps but completely unique to Minecraft

-chance for LOTS of fun references

-The stars are your only companions in an apocalyptic world where you are the last of your kind

-Space is gay minecraft is gay thus minecraft space is gay

•Corn

-we have butter in this list

-we have salt in this list

-popcorn. That is all.

And finally

•Leeks

-mostly a joke but would be a cool crop

-100% a reference to Hatsune Miku the creator of Minecraft

DISCLAIMER: I recognize that mobs are added to Minecraft to serve a purpose within the game and that many of these mobs would be better in mods and such, but I also feel like many of these suggestions would really bring so much more life to parts of the game that really need it. Even if they don't serve a huge purpose, they would still be really amazing additions imo.

I would love to see the ideas and suggestions that other people have for what they want added to Minecraft, please TAG ME if you make a post like this, I wanna hear and read it!

[bodytoflame-ao3]

the road not taken looks real good now

i got the chance to write this fun little buffy/willow piece set in s4 as a part of @buffyfemslash’s secret santa exchange this year, with the request of mistletoe :^)

Read on Ao3

“Hey, what’s all the tinsel for?”

“Oh. Hey. Just setting up some decorations. You like?”

“Mistletoe? Who are you trying to use that on, Wills?” Buffy laughs, “And I thought that was just a Christmas thing.”

Willow’s eyes widen, and she hopes she’s not blushing. Right. There is some mistletoe hung among the string lights and decorations on their ceiling. “Oh, it is, but it’s also supposed to protect you from demons. And we can always use more of that, right?” She wasn’t even thinking of the… other part .

“ Right — but you didn’t answer my question,” Buffy smiles, knowingly, keeping her gaze turned towards Willow as she sits down on her bed, setting her backpack on the floor.

“No one!” Willow insists, quickly shifting topics and hoping it’ll distract her enough to not push it further. “And look, I got you a little tree for your desk, too. With tiny lights!” It’s darn cute too; tiny little ornaments, and a glittery star on the top that lights up when you press a button—

“How… multicultural of you,” she giggles, covering her face, “Geez, the more time I spend with Giles, the more I’m starting to sound like him.”

“Eh,” she shrugs, “there are worse things.”

“Hey,” Buffy says, calling her attention as she glances back at the door. “What’s the Hanukkah equivalent of mistletoe?”

She racks her brain, and ends up rambling— “I don’t think there is one? I guess you could kiss someone over the menorah, but… you’d probably just end up lighting your hair on fire.” —as usual. “ Blah, anyways… I have a present for you!”

“Oh, Will, you didn’t have to get me anyth—”

“I know you got me something too, so quit it.” Willow laughs as Buffy crosses her arms, pouting. She reaches under her pillow, and tosses the gift to her.

Of course, Buffy catches it easily, without even trying to. When she does look down, her eyes widen — she looks up at Willow, back down, up again — “Is this… you be—”

She’s trying her darndest not to laugh, fully maintaining that this is a Totally Serious Gift. “I bedazzled a stake,” she nods. Buffy stares at her. “It’s fashionable, but it’s also totally functional — it’s reflective, for safety , and… oh geez , I can’t help it!” She bursts into laughter, “This isn’t your real gift. I got you something real, I promise!”

“You know… the grip on this is actually pretty good,” Buffy laughs, tossing it between her hands. “I don’t know if anything else is gonna measure up.”

She reaches under her pillow for the other gift, wrapped to perfection in the silly wrapping paper she bought at the dollar store, covered with cartoon snowmen and reindeer, and hands it to Buffy. Still laughing, she looks down at the box; tears the paper down the center where it’s taped together, and her face turns solemn, but still maintaining a small smile. “You didn’t have to get me two gifts. Honestly… I like the stake .”

She shrugs, “I wanted to. You’re my friend, a-and the holidays are about showing the people you care about that you… care about them.”

Buffy opens the box — Willow watches her face carefully — biting her lip, “Wills, really, you shouldn’t have.”

This time, she does blush. “I figured, y’know, we met in high school, so we never got to do that tacky BFF necklace thing — those ones that would turn your skin green and stuff — and this is like… the grown up version of that. Plus, there’s little cross charms on ‘em, so they’re functional too!”

She smiles, and gets up, standing in front of the mirror, fiddling with the clasp behind her head. “Help me with this?”

Willow does, and Buffy doesn’t hesitate in spinning her around, and fastening the other necklace around Willow’s neck.

They both look in the mirror. “Okay. Now my gift is super lame.”

“I’m sure it isn’t,” Willow giggles, seeing in their reflection how Buffy crosses her arms like a kid, hunching over.

“It’s hot cocoa and marshmallows with a mug with a stupid cat pun on it.”

“Well… what’s the pun?”

“... Whisker Wonderland .”

“I… I love it already.”

She notices the mistletoe above them in the mirror, turning around and looking up — just to make sure, yes, it’s really there, and looks back at Buffy. “Okay… I so didn’t think this through.”

What she really didn’t think through was the idea of Buffy actually kissing her — because it’s over before she can even finish processing the thought in her mind.

“Sorry,” Buffy says, shaking her head, chuckling even as she makes a funny face. “Um. Thanks… again .”

Willow tries to calm her thoughts, running a mile a minute; tries to justify not only what just happened, but also… the butterflies in her stomach. “No, it’s… it’s all in the spirit, right? Tradition, and what-not?”

“Okay, cool.”

“Yep. Totally cool and fine.”

It’s so not totally cool and fine.

“Good.”

The tension dissipates, and Buffy makes her way back across the room, fumbling with her backpack, stacking books up on her desk.

“So… how’s it going with Riley?” The second the question leaves Willow’s mouth, she wants to bang her head against the wall.

But Buffy doesn’t hesitate answering: “He’s… closed off. I don’t know if it’s because I’m all secrets girl or… do you think he’s just… not into me ?”

“Of course not!” She says, a little too eager, adding, “I mean, why wouldn’t he be?”

“I don’t know, what if he likes… smart girls? I never do my homework!”

Willow rolls her eyes, “You are smart.”

“Even if that’s true—and I’m not saying it is—what if—”

“—Why are you so worried about this one guy liking you, Buff?”

“‘Cause then I don’t have to—”

“...What?”

“...I kissed you,” she says, matter-of-fact.

“Uh, y-yeah,” Willow stutters, pulling on the hem of her shirt.

“Did it… does that mean something?”

“Um… do you want it to mean something?”

“... Yeah ?”

“Oh.”

“Do you… not ?” Although it's a rare sight, Willow's pretty sure she recognizes fear on Buffy's face.

“Yes! No! I mean—” Willow sighs, fully resigned to the red heat taking over her face. “Which one’s the kinda-gay answer?” When Buffy doesn’t respond, all doe-eyed and sweet, she adds, “Cause I’ve had the biggest darn crush on you since high school, a-and ever since I realized that, I’ve been pushing it down, because I don’t ever want anything to come between us.”

Buffy takes a deep breath, and smiles. “You wanna go get ice cream?”

“Yeah, I uh… I’d like that.”

[sweetsreverie]

finishing touches

25 days of christmas prompts 2020

day 9: decorating the tree

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

length: 542

✧ main masterlist ✧

“Here, I wanna decorate it while everyone is asleep so they wake up to it in the morning,” You say with a grin while you and Shoto approach the tree that was in the common room that Aizawa allowed you guys to put up. Everyone had pitched in a few dollars to buy a small tree and some decorations for it to make the common area a little more festive. The tree wasn’t very tall compared to others, standing at about six feet, but it was enough for you guys. You wanted to get a real tree, but Aizawa didn’t want to deal with it so you ended up buying a plastic tree

Shoto sets down the bags of tree decorations and sets everything on the coffee table, and you pick up a box of lights and open it up.

“Here, I’ll put the lights up,” Shoto offers while he takes the string of lights from you, and he carefully unravels them before he begins to wrap the lights around the tree.

“Do you think we got enough ornaments and stuff for it?” You ask him while you open the boxes of plastic ornaments, and you set them on the table while he works on the lights.

“I think so, I think it’ll come out looking just fine,” He says with a nod, and you bring over a handful of ornaments and begin to hang them on the tree.

Shoto finishes putting the lights on the tree after a few minutes, and he takes a moment to watch you while you hang the ornaments up. He steps over to the tree and picks up an ornament, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

You look over at him and the ornament that he was holding, and you let out a quiet laugh. It was a red ornament that had half of it painted white.

“It’s supposed to be you, Shoto,” You say with a silly grin on your face, and he shakes his head in amusement before he places the ornament back on the tree.

“Clever,” He says with a hint of humor in his own voice, and he opens the box of candy canes and begins to hang them up on the tree in the spaces where there weren’t any ornaments.

“It looks perfect!” You say with a smile, putting your hands on your hips while you take a few steps back to look at the decorated tree in its entirety.

“Wait, we aren’t done,” Shoto says while he picks up the glittery star from the table, and there’s a little smile on his face. 

“Ooh- I wanna put it on!” You say with a grin and take the star, but when you reach up to place it on the tree… You can’t reach it.

You feel hands on your hips then, and it’s Shoto lifting you up to put the star on top of the tree. You smile at him and place the star on the top branches, and you peck his lips when he brings you back down to the floor.

Shoto reaches down and plugs in the lights to illuminate the tree, and he smiles warmly while wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

[salt-warrior]

WHEN EARTH TURNS TO ASHES

Masterlist

Chapter Fifteen: Christmas and Conspiracies

"What's even the point of tinsel?" Iko asked, biting off the head of a frosted gingerbread-man.

Cinder sprinkled thin strands of silver tinsel along the branches of the miniature tree from the chair she was seated in. There was a single string of white lights climbing through the green, earthy smelling branches, and only a few bulbous ornaments.

Christmas had always been Cinder's favorite holiday. For one, it was sisters with her birthday, and it was also the only good memory she had of her mother; decorating the Christmas tree had been the only thing they'd ever done together, and Cinder had always gotten to sleep under the tree with all of its beautiful lights.

"I think it makes it look like it's snowing." Cinder reminisced. When she had been a child, her mother had told her stories of how magical Christmas elves had cast a snowing spell on the tree just for an extra Christmas surprise. Cinder hadn't known that her mother was the Christmas elf, or that tinsel could be bought a dollar per pack.

Iko snorted, and Cinder glared at her. Over the past couple days the girls had become well acquainted with one another. Iko had grown up with her paternal grandmother in Boston. Her mother had left when she was only two, and her father died of Lymphoma a year later. Iko had no memories of either of them, except for her grandmother forcing her into a black dress for her father's memorial service.

When Iko turned nineteen, her grandmother died. She was not a wealthy woman, having no education past high school and only ever working at a grocery market, but she left Iko with enough money to pay college tuition. Iko got a degree in nursing, and worked in Boston until she followed her boyfriend to Hayden. When the guy cheated on her with a pretty blonde french girl, she dumped him, but stayed in Colorado.

"What?" Cinder challenged.

"It's just..." Iko smiled wistfully. "You come off as this tough I-can-take-care-of-myself kind of woman, but then you say stuff like that and you're an innocent little girl."

This time it was Cinder's turn to laugh. "Iko, you're only three years older than me, and I'm not a little kid."

"I know that," Iko asserted confidently. "It just makes me sad to think that someone like you had to live with... the people you did." Iko smiled morosely. Cinder stared at her with wide eyes, and her heart seemed to crinkle like foil. "Do you want some hot cocoa?" Iko asked, changing the subject before Cinder could sink deeper into self-pity mode. Cinder nodded amiably.

Iko stood and skipped to the kitchen. She continued to talk to Cinder, prattling on about how her Grandmother had taught her the proper way to make cocoa, but Cinder wasn't listening. Her mind had slipped to the boy with the dazzling copper eyes of fire, black messy hair, and the gray sweatshirt with his scent that Cinder kept on wearing.

Cinder had tried to hate Kai, but she couldn't. She had thought of every reason why she should: him nosing through her business, him calling her by that cursed name, his bringing Cress back and putting all of them in danger. No matter what she thought, she still couldn't hate the boy who cared only for her well-being.

She knew that she couldn't stay with Iko forever, and would, at some point, have to face Kai. It pained her to think of their next meeting and the hurtful words she would have to scourge him with in order to keep him away; because he had to stay away. Cinder wouldn't let him become another casualty of her existence.

"Here you go," Iko sang, placing a steaming cup of liquid chocolate in Cinder's hands. It only made her think of Kai and his partial chocolate scent.

"Thanks, Iko," Cinder smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" Iko asked, sipping from her large green mug. Iko was fervent about the color green; she said it went with every holiday and was always festive. That was perhaps why Iko's small apartment was accented with green in the most fashionable way possible.

Cinder shrugged, taking a swig from her own mug— it was a darker shade of green, more evergreen— and her whole body seemed to tingle with pleasure. She clutched the warm mug tightly against her chest, reveling in the pure bliss of a warm cup of cocoa. "Nothing."

"Oh, really? I didn't know Kai changed his name." Iko smirked.

A blush spread across Cinder's cheeks, and she buried her face in her mug. Iko laughed, seeming to get more confirmation to her statement than anything Cinder could have said.

"Are you really still mad at him?" Iko inquired. "Because personally, I think he is way too hot to stay mad at."

"I think he's more cute than hot," Cinder diverted, her cheeks coloring to Santa's favorite shade of red.

"Aww," Iko teased, twisting her shoulder upward and grinning. "But really, when are you gonna talk to the guy. He's probably at home, baking Santa cookies and praying that you're under his tree tomorrow morning. You gotta talk to the guy."

Cinder drained the last of her cocoa with a smack of her lips. The back of her tongue was coated in sticky sugar, but it was all worth it. "He's not obsessed with me, Iko," Cinder said. "And he most definitely won't want me under his tree; pine needles give me an allergic reaction."

Iko laughed at this, just as a knock sounded from Iko's door. Cinder froze, her first thought going to Kai. Iko, seeming to read the terror off of Cinder's face put her at ease. "Don't worry. My friend Scarlet is just coming by to drop some things off from the hospital. You remember her, right? She was one of your nurses."

"Oh, yeah. I like her," Cinder said absentmindedly, her shoulder still tense and eyes on the door. Cinder did in fact like Scarlet, though in a different way than Iko. Scarlet didn't talk much, but was always seemed to know exactly what Cinder needed.

Another knock sounded at the door, more urgent than the first. "Geez, take a chill, Scar. A lady may take her time to answer the door." Iko yelled, though only more pounding came from her statement.

Iko unlatched the door, and it swung open before she could even touch the knob. "What the–"

"Sorry, Iko," Kai winced, his knuckles were red and split. He had great dark circles coloring under his eyes like bruises. His hair was messier than usual, and his clothes were rumpled. Cinder felt her heart twinge with worry for him before remembering her pact to hate him.

Behind Kai trailed a jovial Thorne— who threw a wink at Cinder and a flirtatious smile at Iko— and a small, scared looking Cress. Cinder froze with terror.

"Hey!" Iko yelled, trying in vain to shove the onslaught out the door. "Get the–"

"Iko," Kai pleaded. "Please, I have to speak with her; it's urgent."

"I told you no then, and I'm telling you no now!" Iko spat, standing protectively between Cinder and Kai.

Kai tried to peer at Cinder, but she was staring at the ground. "I have to–"

"First you call me a thousand times, and now you break into my house," Iko blazed. "She doesn't want to talk to any of you. Especially if you brought her," Iko sneered, glaring pointedly at Cress. "So get out, before I make you get out."

"Sheesh, you have a lot of fire, hot nurse," Thorne whistled. "Do you maybe want to go out sometime?"

Iko and Kai both turned to glare at Thorne, who respectively put his hands up in surrender. "I'll take that as a I'll-think-about-it."

"Get out–" Iko fumed.

"Please!" Kai begged, his eyes glittering and huge.

"No. I'm done with you hurting Cinder. She doesn't deserve it, so stop. Get out before I make–"

"I'll talk with him," Cinder interjected, surprised at the words that came out next. "And Cress."

"But what about–" Thorne whined.

Cinder cut him off before the words could escape him. "I have this deep yearning to strangle someone today, and I bet you like your eyes inside your skull, am I right?"

Thorne pouted. "I'll wait outside."

Iko glanced at Cinder, a question in her eyes. Cinder could tell that she wanted to stay and help, but this was something that Cinder needed to do on her own. Cinder shook her head.

"I'll wait outside, too," Iko said, obviously trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

The two outcasts left out the door, both of them looking rather unhappy to be left out of the fun. When the door clicked shut behind them, Cinder spun on Kai and Cress, her eyes blazing and her heart heavy. "Why on earth–" Cinder practically yelled at Cress, "–would you come back?"

***

Kai flinched at Cinder's words— no, the tone of her words. She said them with venom and hate and hurt. Cress had hurt Cinder—bad—but Kai knew that they could work it out. He hoped, at least.

Over the past couple of days, Kai had tried to find Cinder. He tried the hospital, though they had no clue where Cinder was. He tried Iko, but she told him nothing. It wasn't until Kai had spoken with nurse Benoit that he had discovered Cinder's location.

Kai had called and texted and practically cornered Iko at the hospital, but she had been firm; if Cinder didn't want to see Kai, she didn't have to. But Kai had to.

Cress had revealed nothing more to Cinder's past than her words after the failed surprise party. She had told Kai and Thorne that it was Cinder's business and that she was done betraying Cinder. Kai admired the loyalty, but he was dying to understand what Cinder's deal was.

"I have to explain myself." Cress squeaked. "I need you to know why I did what I did and how I've regretted it ever since."

Cinder scoffed, but didn't interrupt. She wasn't looking at either of them, but burning identical fiery holes into the carpet. She remained seated in her chair, and tinsel decorated her hair and arms. Kai itched to pick it out for her, but restrained himself.

"I promise, Selene, I am not here to hurt you anymore," Cress cried. She had hardly slept in the past three days. She had stayed at Kai and Thorne's apartment in the guest room, though she tended to spend the nights pacing the house and finding unusual places to read.

"It's Cinder," Cinder said crossly. She continued to stare at the floor.

"Cinder," Cress amended. "Remember when we were in high school and you told me about your mom?" Cress asked.

"Yes," Cinder tiffed. "And I also remembered how you betrayed me and told the whole school how I killed Peony."

Cress took a step towards Cinder, her hands trembling. "I know," she whispered, "and it has been the greatest regret of my life."

Cinder looked up, shock in her eyes. "What?"

"I-I messed up." Cress said. "I researched, just like you asked me to. We tried everything, read every book, and none of it made sense. None of it worked."

Kai glanced between the two girls, confusion and curiosity burning within. He wasn't understanding a word of their conversation; everything was too vague.

"I started to think that Ran was maybe just a freak accident. The letter was weird, but I mean, it would totally make sense if the shock of the event had made you hallucinate. But after Peony..." Cress swallowed hard. She was now kneeling in front of Cinder, the two girls at eye-level. "I thought that you had created Her. I thought that you had killed Peony."

Cinder's jaw dropped. "I didn't do it! I told you Cress, I couldn't have created a–”

"I know!" Cress held her small hand up to silence Cinder. "I realized that after you left. You didn't see Her die, so..."

"I couldn't have created Her." Cinder finished.

Cress looked at her old friend, and understanding seemed to pass through them like an electric current. "But I know how to stop Her. I figured it all out. I-I'm sorry that it took me so long to find you, but I thought you wouldn't want to see me. I–"

"You know how to destroy Her?" Cinder exclaimed. "Cress, how?"

"Do you still have Her bracelet?" Cress asked. She had an illumination to her face, and her eyes were alight with relief.

"Yes, I do," Cinder confirmed.

An image of a small braided bracelet shot through Kai's mind. He remembered the letter and the picture as well. The girls were prattling through a list of things that they would need, but Kai's brain was completely lost. He didn't understand a word of their ambiguous conversation.

"–we'll need to go to the place where it originally happened and summon Her. That's the only way we'll be able to stop Her; to confront Her." Cress said.

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up," Kai took a step forward, and both girls tilted their eyes up to look at him. Bewilderment painted their faces, as though they had forgotten that he was there. "What are you guys talking about? What are we trying to summon? What is going on?"

Cress looked at Cinder, and the two exchanged a glance. "Do you want me to tell him, or..." Cress asked. Cinder stared at Kai, and it was only then that he noticed she was still wearing his grey sweatshirt.

"Kai," Cinder murmured, her voice low and conspiratorial. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

[degrassi-fanatic]

Happy Father’s Day

Yet-to-be-inflated balloons are strewn across the dining room table, only two or three streamers are hung up so far, and a banner that reads Happy Father’s Day is still inside the plastic packaging he bought it in. All the decorations have been readily ignored and abandoned in favor of a lovingly worn and torn photo album with a cracked spine; the result of being open and closed for many years. 

Sitting at the head of the table, Bobby touches the cover of the album, gently tracing the words: The Nash Family. 

Although it might seem a tad bit morbid and sad to be alone on Father’s Day looking at photographs of his late family, it’s become some sort of a tradition of his ever since they’ve died. 

It used to be far worse, though. He would call in sick for work if he was scheduled that day and drink his body weight in alcohol as he flipped through the pages of the photo album with white knuckles, refusing to let himself forget what he lost. 

Now, it's different. He turns the pages in the photo album with only a deep ache to replace what used to be a sharp sting in his chest. Memories used to only equate to suffering for him but now Bobby looks at all the pictures with a renewed sense of love.

Overtime, Bobby has learned that memory can be a beautiful thing sometimes.

Bobby was alone in the house today as earlier in the day, Michael had taken May and Denny back to his own apartment for their own private Father’s Day celebration before the joint party that was supposed to take place here in the evening. Michael had asked if he wanted to join but Bobby had only politely declined, only half-lying about having to decorate. 

In all honesty, even after all of these years, Father’s Day was still a sensitive subject for him. 

Suddenly, at the sound of a doorbell chiming throughout the house, all of his melancholy thoughts are put on pause.

Setting aside the photo album on the dining table, Bobby pushes himself out of the chair and walks over to the door. He pulls open the door to find Buck standing on the other side with his hands stuff awkwardly in his front pockets. 

“Hey Buck.” he greets pleasantly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

“Bobby.” he says as he darts his eyes to the ground, “I was—um, I was wondering if I could spend the day with you.”

“You do realize what day it is, right?” Bobby asks as he wouldn’t put it past Buck to forget.

He watches as Buck avoids meeting his eyes, only scruffing the toe of his shoe against the ground. 

“My—my dad’s in town and I really don’t want to be around him.” he begins to explain and suddenly Buck’s surprise appearance makes much more sense, “Everyone else is busy; my sister’s with Chimney and Joy, Eddie’s with Christopher, Karen and Hen are using today as a second Mother’s Day, and Michael has Denny and May at his until Athena comes back from her shift.

“So I was hoping I could spend the day with you?” Buck asks, scratching the back of his neck. 

“With me?”

The small smile that was tugging on the corner of Buck’s lips disappears with his words, in its wake is a resigned look. Nodding his head, Buck lowers his gaze to Bobby’s shoulder. 

“Y’know what, it’s fine.” Buck says, “I’ll just go to the mall or something. Sorry to bother you.”

He feels something sink deep inside of him as he watches Buck turn away, heading down towards where his Jeep is parked near the sidewalk. 

Desperate to right whatever wrong thing he must’ve said or did just now, Bobby blurts out, “I could use an extra hand with setting up for the party today.”

In the middle of the concrete pathway, Buck stills. As he turns around to face him, Bobby pushes open the door fully and motions with his head for Buck to make his way inside. Practically skipping, he does so immediately. 

Once he’s inside, he gestures for him to make his way down to the kitchen as Bobby closes and locks up the front door. 

“Thanks for letting me do this.” Buck says as he picks up a string of reflective blue streamers. 

“Helping me decorate?” he teases as he begins to tear open the plastic packaging of the banner. 

“You know what I mean.” Buck responds with an eye roll.

As he does, he catches sight of the tattered photo album near the edge of the table. Suppressing the urge to hide it away where no one could find it, Bobby lets Buck pick it up and search through it. He decides to concentrate on rolling out the Party City banner in his hands. 

“What’s this?” Buck asks.

“It’s just a photo album from my first marriage.”

Right away, Buck closes it before setting it back right where he got it from. 

“Sorry,” he says with guilt laced in his voice, “You probably don’t want to talk about that.”

“It’s okay. I’ll always miss them but, it doesn’t hurt to remember them.” he explains.

At Buck’s hesitant, almost wary look, Bobby decides that maybe it’s time this old photo album finally gets some new attention. Picking it up, Bobby searches through the pages until he finally settles on one. 

“Here, this is my son Junior and this is my daughter Brook.”

The picture was the two of them awkwardly linking their arms around each other's shoulders. It was taken at Junior’s middle school graduation ceremony. With a smile, Bobby remembers how much Brook whined when her parents forced her to take a picture with her brother, complaining that Junior didn’t shower enough and smelled like he just came back from hockey practice. 

From his peripheral, he sees Buck shift around until he’s looking at the photograph from over Bobby’s shoulder. 

“What were they like?” Buck asks. 

“Brook loved reading. Her whole bedroom was lined up with bookshelves. Y’know she won this personal essay contest once...” Bobby says, still bragging about his daughter even after how many years have passed since she’s been gone

Old habits are hard to break, huh?

 “Yeah, she won five hundred dollars for it.” he explains, “She was always doing stuff like that.”

“And Junior?”

A chuckle bubbles out of Bobby. 

“Oh God, Junior, he was always getting himself into trouble. But, he was a good kid, he had a good heart.” he remembers.

Kind of like someone else I know.

Pulling his gaze away from where he was looking at Junior’s face, Bobby shifts his attention to Buck. For a second, he takes in just how light his irises are and how blond his hair looks in the light. 

He likes to imagine that this is what Junior would have grown up to look like. 

 “Junior would’ve been a lot like you.” he mumbles, more to himself than Buck.

It takes a few seconds of gears grinding and cogs turning around in his brain before Buck fully processes the depth of his words but when he does, he tilts his head to face Bobby and gives him a shy smile before taking a step backwards. 

“High praise.”

“Yeah well not that high.” Bobby jokes as he closes the photo album, “The kid got himself stuck in a tree that was only four feet above the ground once. And I was the one who was dispatched to get him out of there.”

At the story, Buck starts to double over laughing, clutching at his abdomen as he forces himself to take a breath between every wheeze and snort. Soon, Bobby is following suit; Buck’s laughter is infectious even on a bittersweet day like today. 

For a brief moment as he studies the way Buck throws his head back chuckling, he cannot remember if Buck always sounded like Junior while he was laughing, or if Bobby’s still-grief-ridden mind is having some sort of auditory hallucination. 

“Seriously?” Buck asks as the laughter begins to wane. 

“I never let him live it down.” he answers as he wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. 

Placing the photo album back on the table, Bobby decides that they’ve spent enough time on the subject and judging by the clock, they should really get back to decorating if they don’t want Athena to come back home to a complete mess. 

“He must’ve been a lucky kid.” Buck says, as Bobby searches through the mess to find a roll of tape or some thumbtacks. 

“Hmm?”

“To have you as a dad.” he explains as he hands Bobby a cello tape dispenser, “Junior, I mean.”

If Junior was lucky, he would’ve been alive right now. 

“When I wasn’t drunk and or high out of my mind, I did alright.” Bobby responds with a hint of self deprecation. 

“Yeah, well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.”

Before Bobby can open his mouth and ask Buck what exactly he’s referring to, he’s cut off by the blaring sound of Buck’s cellphone ringing in his pocket. He pulls it out with a huff and practically glares at the screen lighting up in front of his face.

He waits for Buck to pick up the call but all he does is mute his cellphone and shove it back into his back pocket. 

At the way he clenches his jaw, Bobby can deduce who it is with little difficulty. 

“Your dad again?” he asks.

His only response is a short nod as he begins to busy himself with preparing some pieces of tape for holding up the banner; harshly ripping them off from the dispenser before attaching them to the edge of the table. 

Suppressing a sigh, Bobby knows he needs to push Buck into doing the right thing, even if it isn’t what either of them want to do. 

As much as Bobby wants Buck around today, not only to ward off all the bad memories associated with today’s holiday but also simply because he enjoys the man’s company, he knows he shouldn’t monopolize his time. 

Buck deserves a father. Though Bobby may downright despise Phillip Buckley, the man had the honour of holding the aforementioned title and that was something he could not compete with. 

Buck already has a father. He may not be a good one, but he was trying.

Even if he is 29 years too late.

“Maybe you should go meet him?” Bobby suggests, “I mean, if I got a second chance to become a father, you deserve a second chance to have one.”

Buck stops ripping off pieces of tape. His hands travel down to the edge of the table and he grips so hard at the wood that Bobby’s afraid there’ll be claw indents once he’s finished. 

Within a second, however, he pushes himself off of the table and he goes to reach into his pocket. 

Bobby barely has enough to take a look at what Buck’s pulled out before it’s already shoved into his hands. Tilting his head down, he sees a semi-wrinkled piece of printer paper that has been folded in half to make a card. On the front, in big and bold handwriting that he recognizes to be Buck’s, he sees the words Happy Father’s Day and a couple of messy drawings of two firefighters scattered across the page. 

“I already do.” he answers, “Do you—um, do you like it?”

“I love it.” Bobby whispers.

He opens up the card to find a long and what he presumes to be a heartfelt message on the inside. At the top, it says, To the best father and at the bottom, Love, Buck.

“Also, um, some of those random hearts and flames are courtesy of Christopher, who helped me make this, by the way.”

[artificialqueens]

the most wonderful time (crystal/gigi) - aries

summary - it’s winter, it’s too early in the morning, and gigi and crystal are going ice skating.

a/n - it sure as shit is mid-april, and i sure as shit did just write a christmassy fic because it’s what i wanted to read in quarantine. self care! i’m not used to writing happy stuff and it shows, but i needed more of these clowns in my life after untucked last night. on ao3 here!

It’s 8:30am, the streets are near enough empty, and Gigi can’t help but be incredibly jealous of everyone else that’s obviously sleeping in late on this lovely Saturday morning, especially in this God-awful weather.  When she arrives at Crystal’s house, she’s unsure of what to do. For a moment, she considers getting out of the car and knocking, but it feels too childish, somehow, so she resorts to texting. It doesn’t take long for her to answer.

Gigi barely has time to register the sound of Crystal’s excited laughter before she opens the door and climbs into the passenger seat, and when Gigi turns to look at her, she suddenly feels extremely underdressed. Of course Crystal’s wearing a Christmas sweater - she wouldn’t expect anything else - but apparently she took today’s plans as an invite to specifically wear the brightest, ugliest one Gigi’s ever laid eyes on, and after years of Christmas sweater days at work, that says a lot. Sighing, she looked down at her own much more plain black shirt. 

‘Was it not enough to drag me to the markets this early, in the snow, on a Saturday? Did you have to come dressed as a tree ornament as well?’ Crystal rolls her eyes in response and fastens her seatbelt, but for a split second, Gigi sees a flash of genuine insecurity on her face.

‘Is it really too much? I can go and get changed.’

‘No, you’ll blend in. It’s fine. There,’ Gigi replies, motioning to the takeaway cup of hot chocolate that sits, albeit lukewarm by now, in the cup holder. ‘It might not still be warm, but it’s there. There’s a mince pie in the little bag for you too -’ she pauses, gauging Crystal’s reaction, but she doesn’t look immediately disgusted, ‘-so you can have that if you’re hungry.’

‘Thank you! I’ll get lunch or whatever while we’re out,’ she replies, obviously distracted by the prospect of a mince pie.

To Gigi’s surprise, the rest of the drive passes reasonably quickly. They arrive in the city by about ten o’clock, and despite the fact that the markets themselves have only been open for two days or so, the streets are already streaming with people. It takes another half an hour to find a place to park, but then they’re free to roam the ornately decorated streets, cold drinks in hand. Whoever it is that got stuck in charge of decorations really hasn’t done an awful job at all, Gigi thinks; strings of multicoloured lights hang from basically every available surface that’s more than a foot off of the ground, there are signs on every corner directing tourists and locals alike to the nearest place to buy several million types of festive merchandise, and even the quickly falling, oddly disorientating snow manages to look vaguely magical under the glow of the stalls’ candles. Crystal looks as if she’s just stepped out of the car into her own personalised version of heaven, and twirls around, sticking her arms out to catch snowflakes on the sleeves of her coat. She turns around, catches Gigi staring and glares at her jokingly as if to tell her not to ruin her festive fantasy.

‘Where to first?’ she questions, unable to hide her almost childlike excitement. Gigi throws her empty coffee cup in the nearest bin and consults a sign that lists the many attractions. 

‘There’s an ice skating rink about ten minutes that way if you’re up for it,’ she sighs, realising her mistake almost instantly. She doesn’t know how to ice skate to save her life, but judging by the look on Crystal’s face, she’s never heard a better idea.

‘What are we waiting for, then? Come on!’ Crystal beams, and all of a sudden Gigi’s being dragged through streams of tourists towards the igloo-shaped rink in the distance. She sighs, lamenting her fate. If any higher powers were looking down on her and seeing that this is, in fact, the last thing she wants to spend my morning doing, they’d make it easier for her to just go in and get it over with, but apparently not; there’s a huge queue to even get to the ticket desk.

‘God, that’ll take ages,’ muses Crystal. Gigi rolls her eyes, convinced that the line should be a good enough indication that they should find another activity. Crystal evidently doesn’t agree; she marches herself (and, by extension, Gigi, who’s still holding onto her arm) up to the very end of the abnormally long line. ‘Excuse me,’ she begins, tapping the exhausted-looking man in front of us on the shoulder, ‘how long do you think the wait will be?’. He gives her a tired look before telling her that he has no idea and that it could be an hour at this rate, apparently. Gigi groans, but that doesn’t seem to stir Crystal, who thanks him with a smile and pulls out her phone, visibly prepared to wait it out.

‘Aren’t you tired?’ Gigi whines, and Crystal looks back at her in surprise.

‘No! Well, earlier, sure, but all I really need to wake me up is a hot chocolate, and you sorted me out with that one.’

‘If I’d have known it’d make you this perky, I’d have just gotten you a bottle of water,’ Gigi replies snarkily, but Crystal doesn’t seem offended in the slightest. 

The line inches forward and continues to do so at a horribly slow rate for about thirty-five minutes until they’re finally close to the front. Until now, neither of them could see the entry fees. This actually turns out to be a blessing in disguise. If she’d seen how much entry was earlier, Gigi thinks, there’s no way she’d have stayed in the queue for more than thirty seconds. 

‘Thirty dollars for an hour? ’ she whispers in horror, elbowing her in the side. ‘We could build our own ice rink for that much. Fuck. ’

‘Don’t be so stingy,’ Crystal mutters back. ‘It’s all about the experience, you know? Plus, I told you, I’ll get lunch.’ Reluctantly, Gigi slides her money over the counter and trudges into the igloo to rent her skates. 

After way too much hassle attempting and failing to tie them, they finally step onto the ice. In Gigi’s case, this includes immediately falling back down and potentially fatally injuring herself in the process. Crystal, who is apparently an expert at figure skating, looks down at her. She bites her lip to stop herself from breaking into a fit of laughter, which is more patronising, Gigi decides, than it would be to actually laugh. Gigi rolls her eyes and takes Crystal’s hand to pull herself up, then hobbles over to the side, grabbing the railing. Crystal obviously can’t hold in her laughter anymore - she actually cackles when she spots Gigi almost lose her balance again. She skates over to her in a way that’s so smooth it feels like a direct attack

‘How does it feel to know you just paid a whole thirty dollars to fall flat on your ass?’ Crystal stops, shredding ice as she turns her foot towards Gigi. What looks like a four year old boy kitted out in three scarves and a wooly hat that’s every colour possible skates past and points at Gigi, laughing to his mom. She shoots him a glare, closes her eyes, and channels every elegant professional Olympic skater she’s ever seen. She tries to step forward and skate again, but her movements are more akin to a baby deer in Louboutins than any kind of professional. 

Gigi has to admit defeat when she falls once more and smacks her head on the barrier to her right. Crystal obviously finds this hilarious , and can barely stop herself from falling over too, she’s laughing that much. 

‘Oh my God, I didn’t expect you to be so bad at this,’ she wheezes, and Gigi shoots her a venomous glare. ‘Do you want one of those penguin things with the handles?’ she asks between spurts of laughter, motioning to the same four year old from before; he’s now holding a penguin-shaped balance aid and whizzing around to the discontent of his parents. 

‘No,’ Gigi insists, struggling onto her feet once again. ‘I’m not a child. I can skate.’ Trying to prove her point, more to herself than anything, she pushes herself forward about a foot and manages to stay upright for a whole second without grabbing onto the barrier for stability. ‘How can you do this so well?’

‘I was a figure skater when I was little,’ Crystal answers, gliding effortlessly forwards to join her. ‘I quit when I was about thirteen, so I can’t do anything, like,’ she sticks out her arms in a grand-looking flourish, ‘fancy, but I can still balance.’ She gives Gigi a once-over as she clings to the side of the rink. ‘And that’s more than can be said for some people.’

‘I can balance!’ Gigi shouts, focusing more on defending herself than actually proving herself right. As she crashes to the ice once again, she’s not convinced Crystal believes her at all.

‘I’m never letting you drag me anywhere like that again, you bitch,’ Gigi sighs as they step down the stairs out of the rink and make a beeline for the nearest food stall. Crystal laughs and grabs her hand, swinging it as they walk. 

‘You’re the one that suggested we go, actually,’ she replies, and steers the two of them towards a quaint-looking wooden cabin advertising German hotdogs. 

‘I didn’t expect you to want to, though,’ Gigi pouts. ‘I didn’t want you to upstage me.’

‘Tough,’ Crystal grins. ‘Get used to it, sweetheart, I’m basically an Olympian.’

[softupshur]

White Christmas (Outlast one shot)

I know it’s belated as irl stuff got wild around the time I was writing this, but I still wanted to share a little holiday cheer with ya’ll! Hope you all had a delightful holiday! <3

Ao3 link if you’re into that kind of thing

---

The LED lights in Jeremy's tie flickered in time with the lights on the discount aluminum Christmas tree. Its branches wilted at the weight of the dollar store ornaments, and the angel on top dipped into the uncanny valley with her blow-up doll face paint.

Such a sorry, artificial specimen could only come from Wal-Mart, according to the gabby secretaries.

"You think that intern would have found us a more dignified tree for the occasion."

"Couldn't agree more. We gave him the 23rd! It couldn't have been that hard to find a tree in time!"

Jeremy rolled his eyes. The pitiful tree made a better view than their knock-off brand dresses. As if a company-mandated holiday party was worth dressing up for. It only happened because of some bullshit lawsuit claiming employees were entitled to observation of religious holidays. Rather than waste the money to buy off the lawyers, Murkoff put together a shoe-string budget Christmas party to quiet the complaints. Someone claimed a day off would be a more legally sound solution, but as they were found to have a previously undiagnosed mental illness, none paid them any heed.

Thus, executives and salaried workers alike strutted around the rec room as if attending a cocktail party, with three piece suits and dresses tailored to resemble designer brands. Only Rick fit the decor with his garish Christmas sweater depicting drunken elves dancing under the phrase, "Let's get elfed up".

"Hey, buddy!" Rick strolled up to Jeremy and slung an arm over his shoulders, nearly spilling his cup of tragically unspiked punch in the process. "Enjoying the party?"

Jeremy’s gaze drifted to the pile of white elephant gifts beneath the tree. Hardly any were competently wrapped, crinkled and tape unfurling. "Is that what we're calling this bullshit?"

"Ah, lighten up, Jer!" He slapped Jeremy's back with enough force to make him lurch. "Not everyday we get to fuck around on company payroll."

"Hardly worth it if illicit substances are prohibited."

"C'mon, it's not so bad! Just look at the show!" He pointed out one of the security guards dancing along with Dean Martin's "Let it Snow" beside a giggling receptionist. "Just look at that clown," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. "He's been pining after the broad for month. He coulda just downed some liquid courage and ask her out like a normal schlub, but no, he thinks flailing around like he's got a fit of seizures is gonna get the girl."

The guard stopped his jig and slunk to the snack table.

Jeremy managed a chuckle. "All right, Rick, I'll give you this. Maybe there is entertainment to be found here."

Through the next hour, they heckled their fellow executives from the water cooler. To keep their energy, they broke into the store-bought cookies meant to be saved for the end of the party. Not that anyone dared scold them, even when Rick took to eating three at a time.

"Mmmphrh!" Crumbs flew as Rick attempted coherency.

"Jesus, Rick, did you forget how to swallow?

When Rick managed to do so, his words came in clear. "Shit, buddy. These cookies are like how Grandma used to make them."

"Your grandma bought them half-off at the grocery store?"

"C'mon, where's your holiday spirit! This is good shit!"

"If only we could say the same for the gift exchange." Jeremy shook his head at the collection of shoddily wrapped gifts underneath the tree. Only his looked immaculate thanks to the intern he charged with the task. The threat of a suspension guaranteed a job well done.

"Y'know what they say. Don't judge a book by its cover."

"We'll see about that."

The executives proceeded to gather around the tree at the receptionist's instructions. Rather than a traditional gift exchange, any gift could be chosen. The "player" would open it in front of everyone and the following player could either choose a new present or "steal" a gift already opened until all were chosen.

"Ah, so like Yankee Swap," Rick remarked.

"What the fuck is Yankee Swap?" Jeremy asked to which he received no explanation.

"And for the first player we nominate our very own Jeremy Blaire!" the receptionist called out.

While the tune changed to "Oh, Christmas Tree," the party offered a polite applause as if they were listening to one of his presentations in the meeting room. Usually, Jeremy would return the favor by flashing a fake smile, but now he only rolled his eyes as he made his way to the pile of gifts. According to the rules, not a single one exceeded twenty dollars. He scowled at the notion and picked the plainest package wrapped in red, as it was the only one not to hurt his eyes.

Everyone fell silent as he unwrapped it. The security guard was particularly tense as Jeremy pulled out the gift. Fresh from Amazon's warehouse was a pack of margarita cups. They were plain in design, but the back of the box described a cooling feature that promised to keep drinks ice cold for up to 24 hours.

"Damn, that's a good one," Rick said as he read over Jeremy's shoulder.

"For once, I'm inclined to agree. Apparently someone around here has some taste."

"I'll say. Way to start with a bang." His fingers mimicked a gun in punctuation.

"Was this yours?" Jeremy asked.

"Nope."

"Actually, it was mine," the security guard chimed in.

"Huh, I guess we'll never know," Jeremy said without batting an eye.

The party-goers staked their own claims, trading and stealing gifts. Scarves, calendars, and garish ties made their rounds, but no one dared touch Jeremy's cooling martini glasses.

Finally, Rick stood to take his turn. Only one gift remained under the tree, but Rick passed it by and stopped in front of Jeremy.

"You wouldn't dare," Jeremy said.

But Rick held out his hand. "The glasses. Give 'em up."

"No."

Rick tsked, shaking his head. "Sorry, buddy. I don't make the rules."

"You'll regret it if you take these."

Throwing his head back, Rick laughed. "What're you gonna do? Fire me? Fat chance! You and I both know we were hired by the same higher-ups!" He snatched the glasses and whistled, 'We Wish you a Merry Christmas" as he strolled back to his seat.

Whispers erupted in the crowd as Jeremy's jaw dropped. Now empty-handed, he scanned the party for a worthy replacement, but each item's novelty was worse than the last.

Rick pointed to the final present, covered in smiling Santa wrapping paper. "Looks like there's one last gift under the tree with your name on it, buddy!"

Sighing, Jeremy fetched it. With any luck, it'd be a hydroflask knockoff for his vodkas. He tore through the endless Santas and froze.

"C'mon, Jer!" Rick called out. "Show everyone what you got!"

Through narrowed eyes, Jeremy held up a coffee mug shaped like a toilet, complete with the handle.

Most everyone held back their snickers, but Rick cackled. "Wouldn't ya know it! That's the gift I brought!"

If Jeremy's grip tightened anymore, the handle might have shattered. Nonetheless, so long as no one looked at his white knuckles, Jeremy kept his composure as the party wound down. He offered mechanical goodbyes and rehearsed Christmas wishes to executives he couldn't name without their badges. Once the rec room emptied, Rick approached, clapping a hand on Jeremy's shoulder.

"Hey, buddy! Great party, eh?"

"Do not talk to me." Jeremy shrugged his hand off and started off, but Rick called after.

"C'mon! I just wanted to make it up to you!"

Jeremy turned around and held out the cup. "So you're going to take your shitty mug back?"

Rick doubled over laughing, holding his stomach. "That's a good one!" He gasped for breath. "Get it? Cuz it's shaped like a shitter!"

"I'm leaving," Jeremy said.

"Wait, wait, wait," Rick rushed to usher Jeremy back into the rec room. "Just hear me out."

"I'd rather not."

But Rick persisted. "Hey, how about we strike a deal." He held out his hand. "If you don't like it, you could punch my teeth out and blame it on a variant, no questions asked."

Jeremy didn't hesitate to shake his hand. "You got yourself a deal."

"I got three words for you, buddy." Rick pulled out a baggy of unidentified white powder and waved it in front of Jeremy. "Let it snow."

The track switched to "White Christmas" as Jeremy's eyes widened. "Rick...is this?"

"You know it! Purest on the market."

"Where on earth did you get this? Last I heard the only good dealer around here jumped town."

Rick chuckled. "Been saving it for a rainy day." He gave the bag a shake. "What'd ya say?"

"I say this could be a Merry Christmas after all."

[blackasteriia]

he's just getting to the point of coming back. it'll be a while until he's there. but he's getting there. he's present enough to see her trying to reach for something he'd left on a shelf that he'd considered easily accessible, and let it fall off of its resting place into her hand.

Static charged the air. A storm was coming. Outside, the winds buffeted thehouse and rustled the trees. The dishwasher churned in the kitchenand beeped, ending the cleaning cycle. The clock whittled away theseconds in a constant, paced, click. Xion laid on the couch, thecushions sagging under her weight. Her hands folded over her stomach,nausea twisting in her throat. An anxious poison built in her veins,soaking her bones. Her thoughts raced in circles. Around and around,intrusive, and unwelcome. Chased her down, pinned her beneath theirweight. Sleep remained a distant shore.

The clock chimed and she counted the strokes to midnight. Xion sat-up andthe blankets spilled off her shoulders to pool in her lap. She curledher legs underneath her. The soft flannel of her sleep pants ruckedat her ankles. Xion rubbed her hands down her face, scrubbing at hereyes. She groaned and growled, frustration bubbling-up. She slippedfrom beneath the covers. Her feet hit the cold wood floors with athud. Xion plodded from the living room and into the kitchen. Sheflicked on the lights and blinked to adjust her vision.

She walked to where the coffee maker rested by the sink, plugged into theoutlet. Xion filled the pot with water from the faucet. She boughtcoffee last week, cheap black grounds from the dollar store. Xion setthe maker to brew. While it boiled, she leaned back against thekitchen counter, elbow braced along the edge. The storm builtoutside, punctuated with brief drum strikes of rain and hail. Thunderrolled, deep and rumbling, the foundation of the house trembled. Xionhad left her phone to charge by the stove. She regarded it for amoment. A though punctured the cacophony of her mind, text Aeleus.Yet, as her mind went through the motions. Picking-up the device andwriting a message, she couldn’t compose words. There was nothing tosay. If he was asleep then he need the rest more than she neededcompany.

The coffee maker finished brewing. Xion poured coffee into a mug that shefetched from the cabinets. She sipped from it. The taste was bitterand awful, metallic, a bit like brown sludge. Her body metabolizedcaffeine far quicker than its effects set in, there was no reward inthe drink. It was warm though. Heat seeped into her hands, soothingand pleasant. It was a bit like a slap in the face, thedisorientating wake-up call she needed. A breath of fresh air afterhours of drowning. Xion drank half the cup. She left it in the sinkatop a precarious pile of dirty dishes that she was ignoring.

Xion left the kitchen and walked around the front of the funeral home. Shepassed the front desk and then entered the embalming room. Xionturned on the lights, illuminating the dark space. She tied her hairback with a rubber band then washed her hands in the sink. Afteryanking on a pair of disposable gloves, Xion retrieved the body fromthe fridge. She checked the files and paperwork. Her notes on whatthe family wanted, confirming the subject’s identity. She was a youngwoman with long blonde hair who died in the hospital of an opioidoverdose. Twenty years old and laid out on on a metal slab decadesbefore she should be. Xion planned on working on her tomorrowmorning, but her sleeplessness changed that.

Cold storage trapped the woman in the first twelve hours of death. Muscleslocked and stiff in rigor mortis. Her skin blotchy and pale turnedashen, and cold to the touch. The cuts, sores, and ulcers up her armsand throat told a story she no longer could. Xion used a disinfectantto clean the body. She massaged the stiffness from the arms,shoulders, and body of the woman. With the body prepped, Xion turnedher attention to the face. Using a special suture kit and thinstring, Xion sewed shut the jaw through the gums and nose. Put eyecaps to prop-up the eyes. She made a few adjustments to the face toensure a serene expression.

She was a small woman, not even a hundred pounds, so the embalming didn’ttake long. Xion worked the muscles to encourage the fluid into theveins. She could remember ‘Taker teaching her to do this. How toensure the body remained supple, life-like, and didn’t bruise orswell. All the little things that’d help the family mourn, theirfinal chance to say goodbye to their beloved. It was a carefulprocess but finished in less than an hour. Xion focused on the woundson the arms and hands. She’d need wax to fix those and some clevermake-up. She’d leave dressing for tomorrow.

Xion kept the wax in a cabinet above the counter but when she pulled openthe door, there was none. Xion cussed as she remembered. She used thelast of it last week on a different body and forgot to order more.Wasn’t on the to-do list. Her fingers tapped on the counter, lipspursed. ‘Taker never would’ve made this mistake. It’d take a coupleof days to order it too. Only if– an idea, traced along a longtrack of memories. It was worth a shot, otherwise, she’d have todrive an hour to a supply store tomorrow.

A month ago when Xion admitted this was her job now, she reorganizedthe whole embalming room. She lacked a full foot of her father’sheight and adjusted things to suit her. She thought she movedeverything to the bottom shelves, but now she was desperate andhoping. ‘Taker kept the old wax on the top shelves, she never movedit because she ordered new stuff. Xion stepped back, changing herperspective, and stood on her tip-toes. There on a top-shelf was anold jar of wax. Xion groaned to herself. She yanked off her gloveswith dramatic exasperation. Note to self: order wax tomorrowmorning, first thing.

Xion hooked a leg up on the counter and pushed-up to reach for the jar.Her fingers fell short by inches. Xion bounced on her toes as shefell, then lifted both knees up onto the counter. Gaze tracing-up,her eyes caught movement. The jar tilted and fell. Xion caught it inher lifted hand, her grip slipped and she fumbled with it. Xionbrought the jar against her chest and then palmed it, secured. Browfurrowed, Xion eyed the wax. That jar of wax was on the shelf.Four inches in, at least. Gravity did not tip it over into herwaiting hands.

Xion called bullshit.

Her eyes focused, noting the wood grain of the shelf before her. Slow hergaze shifted over her shoulder as she turned. Her vision tracked thewalls and cabinets and tools. The bleached white clothes. Washed outwith the monochrome of the barren equipment, tile, and walls. Softshadows piled in the corners, beneath the tables and chairs. A gustof wind and the house trembled. The frame settled. The hairs on theback of her neck stood. Xion acknowledged what’d she ignored forhours. There was a paradigm shift in the air, a change in theatmosphere. Cold seeped through Xion’s hands and shoulders. Asudden lack of loneliness. The home was no longer empty.

Xion put down the jar of wax and slid off the counter. Methodical andpatient, she returned the body to the fridge. She cleaned-up hertools and finished her notes. Xion turned off the lights on her wayout and returned to the kitchen. At the base of the stairs leadingupstairs, she paused. The upper floor laid in deep darkness.Untouched since she last cleaned there a week ago. Xion gripped thebanister and mounted the first step. The stairs groaned beneath herweight and stride. At the landing, she peered down the halls. Thedoors closed and the lights out. She dared not disturb the unsettledpeace.

After 'Taker’s death Xion sought the advice of the town wise women. Rather, the old ladies who gathered at the cafe for lunch and bridgeevery Friday afternoon. They consoled her on her, 'loss.’ These agedwomen, ears adorned by complex, dangling jewelry, taught Xion the art ofliving on. They told her to do as she felt ready. Things must remainas they were, until it is 'time,’ for them to no longer be. Xionwasn’t ready for anything. Everything was as 'Taker and Kane leftit. Preserved in careful detail– lacking only the men themselves.They weren’t here to maintain the boundaries of their space, soXion did it for them. The embalming room had practical reasons forthe change but the upstairs was a sacred place. Move an inch of itand the foundation of the whole house would crumble.

Xion entered 'Taker’s room in the North corner of the house. The hingescreaked as she shouldered it open. Moonlight spilled through thesplit curtains, illuminating the room in a pale light. Old posters ofbands, bikes, and favored wrestlers adorned the walls. A calendar ofHarley-Davidson’s from 2002 hung over the desk. A quilt laid on thetwin bed tucked even with the pillows. Left undisturbed on thenightstand was a notebook of measurements and bike designs. Labeledat the top: “XION.” The theoretical gift for her eighteenthbirthday, she assumed. One day she’d execute his vision– but notnow, she’d seen it all before and paid it no mind.

Xion had stashed 'Taker’s clothes in the wardrobe as they came through thewash. She peeled open the oak door and peered inside. Xion rifledthrough the clothes. Her hand landed on the smooth, weighted leatherof his old duster– The one he always wore. Xion pulled the coat offthe hook. She stepped to stand in the light and look it over. Xionworked the fabric in her hands. Aeleus found it in the truck, whereshe left it. It didn’t smell like 'Taker anymore, it smelled likethe soap she used to clean it. Careful not to crease it, Xion foldedthe duster into a square and tucked it under her arm. It’d be asuitable offering. A small change, a chip in the armor of theupstairs. Xion closed the wardrobe and slipped out of the room. Sheclosed the door behind her and turned the latch. She walked down thestairs.

In the mudroom behind the kitchen, Xion pulled on her boots and lacedthem up. She shrugged on her coat. She stamped out the back door andclambered down the porch step. An unusual chill nipped at her noseand cheeks. The storm had passed, leaving the desert frosted white,crisp and frigid. The clouds cleared to reveal constellations and afull moon. The sun long was gone and the heat dissipated from theland, there was nothing left but the cold. Her hands tucked into herpajama pants pockets. Xion’s boot heel crushed leaves and driedgrass as she walked north. She forded a stream, babbling over rocks,with a confident bound. A sparse stand of trees guarded the pathwayto the gate.

The gate of wrought iron was the furthest boundary of the yard. Threelocks of gold, silver, and iron, held it all in. 'Taker had keys,somewhere, but Xion never bothered. Her hand lifted from her side,the hilt of the keyblade slotted to the curve of her fingers. Steelmolded of her will, formed of her heart’s desire. Xion pointed theblade tip at the gate. Light flashed and the locks unbound. Xionpulled the chain and entered. She locked the gate behind her. Xionturned to her left hand and delved into the yard.

Four decades of life passed along the pathway. Tended lawns and thepristine tombstones marked a modern era. The dates fell backcenturies as she walked. To stone markers carved by unsteady hands, the finaltestament to names long faded. The cruel march of time marked inquarried marble, quartz, and limestone. Ravens raised a complaint intheir hoarse voices. They darted between the winter stripped boughsof the trees. Magic ran deep in the Earth. It saturated the soil andpermeated the water. The grass grew thick of ancient art, manipulatedby those long passed. A charge coursed the air, uncorrelated to theearlier storm. The hearts, souls, and minds of the dead still exertedtheir will here. The veil ran thin, gossamer dancing with shadows onthe far side.

A church of stone and wood rose between the trees. A monument to aforgotten religion and an unknown god. The doors were of a dark pine,hardened by five centuries of life. Xion used her full weight to pushthem open. Moonlight and shadows draped the insides of the church.Wooden benches lined aisles, askew and rotted. Someone had drawnprofane graffiti art on the West wall. A throne of iron sat on araised dais at the back wall. Ominous and yet mixed with such ahistory that Xion couldn’t help but feel familiar, comfortable.Xion walked the center aisle and then circled to the right of thethrone.

Dust, sand, and dirt, covered the trap door in pillows. An aero spellcleared it away so Xion could lift it open by the handle. Xiondropped into the black depth and landed on bent knees on the stonebelow. She stared down into complete darkness, so much that her eyescouldn’t adjust. Xion snapped her fingers and an orb of lightappeared. It hovered beside her as she walked down the steps. At thebottom landing were doors of cast iron, knockers affixed to each.Xion pushed them open enough that she could slide through and enterthe crypt.

Arches of stone bore the weight of the building. Each arch carved withsymbols, eyes, and patterns of lost rituals. In alcoves along thewalls were the dead of the Valdis family. Skeletal remains laid onshelves hewn from the rock walls. Coffins and caskets rested in rowsthrough the center of the first chamber. Xion walked further back,through a narrow catacomb, and to the furthest chamber. It was empty butfor three caskets on stone pedestals. Copper plaquesread their names and dates. 'Taker’s mother, father, and himself.Shadows slunk by as Xion approached . 

Inscribed on ‘Taker’s plaque, read:

                                   “Adam Joseph Valdis-Cowell

                                            “The Undertaker”

                              April 19, 1965 - November 16, 2003″

Forty days had passed and it felt like a good number, a solid number.Something Xion would mark on a calendar if she thought of it. Xionplaced the duster atop the casket. A sigh rolled through her as shesunk down, back to the stone pedestal. Xion buried'Taker in his ring gear and the keys to his favorite bike. Noembalming, no tricks of preservation, she’d let him rot away in hisdeath. Leave behind the bones, like his ancestors. It had felt wrongwhen she first prepared his body. Wrong, to see him still and cold.Like he could sit-up any moment and start talking to her. He was tooyoung, like the girl whose jaw Xion sowed shut an hour ago. It wasworse to lock him in a box and tuck him away in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” Xion said. She always began there, an apology tumbled-outbefore she could catch it. “I know Aeleus says it ain’t my fault. Ijustknow I can’t stop thinking of all the ways I screwed-up. Counting upall my little mistakes. If I made one less–”

Xion paused, she rubbed her thumb over her fingers in slow, comfortingcircles. She swallowed hard.

“Maybe, we wouldn’t be here at all,” Xion finished. “You’d be here. I’m not doing great with the home. I’m fine working on the bodies, it’s all procedures. My hands know how to do that, but it’s when I gotta talk and use my head, I keep messing up. The money and the people, and the orders, keeping everything lined-up– It’s so much to keep track of. I feel like I barely got my neck above water.”

A sigh rolled through her. Xion reached back and undid the ponytailfrom the nape of her neck. She snapped the rubber band back aroundher wrist. She rubbed her hands over her face and eyes. Her fingersthen worked up into her hair, pulling through the strands.

“Aeleus isn’t okay,” Xion muttered. She turned her cheek to the side. Theair was cold and stagnant down here. It was hard to breathe. “Hetries to hide it from me, but I can tell. He’s lost weight and he’snot eating. He doesn’t want to do anything but feel sorry. I don’tblame him. He’s lost you and now he’s stuck with me. Not how he’dthought it’d work-out, huh? It’s like, he’s trying to follow you andI don’t know what to do about it. I-I can’t fix it, what could I even say?!

“I’m just–” Xion’s voice broke, a high stuttered breath broke through her chest.Her hands lifted to her mouth to stifle a cry. Tears pricked hereyes, burned the corners and traced her cheeks. “I don’t know if Ican do this. Keep the home running. Help Aeleus– I wanted to get my GED, but I don’t think that’s gonna happen. If I stop at all, it’ll all come crashing downon me.”

She ducked her head to her chest. There was no swallowing the sob thatbroke from her. Xion buried her face against her knees. Her armsthreaded around her legs. Her shoulders trembled with each rackingcry, gasping for breath and bawling. It was an inevitable breakpoint.When all the things crumbled around her. The exhaustion and the fear.Rage, that she’d find one good thing and the universe would snatch ltfrom her. It was cruel and unfair, and no one to blame but herself.She broke it like she did everything– it should shock no one, leastof all herself.

In time she wiped her tears, left raw and hallowed-out. Couldn’t cryforever. Her hand massaged the back of her neck where tension formedat the base of her jaw. Xion whimpered and gasped, choking andhiccuping still at random interval. She clutched her knees to herselfand curled in tight. The best she could do for comfort. The silenceweighed on her, not even the wind for company. Voice still shaking,she sought to fill the crypt.

“I don’t know why I came here. Why I’m talking to your body,” Xionmused. As if there was someone left to listen to her rambles. Therewasn’t, she was talking to a liquefied corpse; A casket filled withbody sludge. Gatherings of bones and ashes. “Where I’m from, no onereally dies, they don’t even leave bodies. So long as you remember them,they stay with you. They remain in your heart– they go somewhereelse, where you can’t see them but they’re still there. I don’t knowif that’s how it is here. I can’t shake this feeling that you’restill around, somehow. Maybeit’s not you, as I knew you, but something’s left.”

Xion tapped her finger against her arm.

“Might be losing my mind,” Xion muttered. “Wistful think– But I knewyour magic, and when you died that night… it was gone. Now it’sback and I’m… an idiot.”

Xion laughed, low and in her chest. She leaned back, head tilting againstthe casket side. The slightest grin teased her lips. “Please,please don’t give me hope, daddy. I miss you. I know it doesn’t getbetter, we just get used toit. It’s never going to be the same without you though, and I just,I wish you were here.”

She sagged, hair rucking-up along the line of her neck. She’d no right tobe down here begging for forgiveness. His body was here, all he leftbehind. It was foolish to think that the physical proximity wouldmake any difference. The truth was she’d never hold his hand again,or hug him. It was just a year or so, she had with 'Taker, but it was the best of her life. All she had left was that last time, forty days ago. She had to get overit, accept it, move on. Somehow, someway, she had to. She pushed toher feet and looked down at the duster atop his casket, folded neat.Xion began to turn away.

She made it a whole stride before an invisible rope tugged her back. Somepsychological tether that brought her back to the casket. Shepicked-up the duster again. She thought she’d give it back to him, soshe couldn’t cling to it any longer. Start to strip the Jenga towerthat was the funeral home. One-piece at a time. It was the last thinghe gave to her and even if she did not deserve it, or ask for it, orappreciate it. She wasn’t ready for it to be gone. Xion stepped backfrom the casket. She walked out of the crypt, crawled back throughthe trap door. She sniffed and rubbed dust and tears from her cheeks.

Xion paused at the foot of the throne in the church. She sat down on thedais to let her eyes adjust to the dark. She placed the folded dusterat her side. For a moment she leaned back onto the cool stone.Exhaustion struck her like a bell chime. The physical and emotionalweight of past sleepless nights coming to toll. Her eyes closed once,twice, and sleep took her. Xion awoke, hours later, to birdsong.Sunlight streamed through the windows. Her back and shoulders stiff,her fingers cold. She curled on her side, arm wedged under her head.And the duster, tucked over her shoulders. 

[tsunderebird]

uh i’m just gonna like write some stuff out i’m feeling def tmi

tired of cooking

tired of cleaning

tired of feeling so tired in the evening

tired of the tireless life that i’m leading

tired of only feeling good when i’m sleeping

tired of peace but i’m tired of aggression

tired of nobody teaching motherfuckers a lesson

everytime i’m back in the same old same old

lost all of my drive and my inner fire stays cold

not a lot of good even when i give my best 

just a zero dollar payout on a thousand dollar bet

i’m not a fucking maid learn to clean up your own mess

you don’t get to treat my ass with disrespect

i am not your mother and i certainly don’t wanna be

it is not my job to slave away to this economy

i am not the answer to your ego masturbation nor should i allow you to take a shredder to my patience

what i wanna know is why you think that it’s fly to make other people slave away until they die

working whole lives and losing time back for money

cash don’t put sand back in the hourglass honey

catch me out in the forest busting logs with the skull visual

got my nazi stompers on pretend i’m strong enough to hit a dude

people spitting venom blocked by off brand beats

even on your skin though that shit gets into your meat

huffing second hand juul fuel from the fash hash vapers

i’m trying to elope alone not relate to old cis haters

cut the puppet strings and nasty things from which the earth hangs

turn the scissors around and clip them cleopatra terf bangs

snapped like the nose off a sandstone sphinx

trapped in my robe by a twenty three year jinx

when invaders mark your family tree and culturally devoid of anything

the sappy shit sticks when the heritage is hemmoraging

i don’t pretend to fit what maslow told me but i know i’d settle for a friend just to hold me

no i don’t think that it’s the cure to being lonely but it’s a damn sight better than the liberal baloney

another season gone i just add it to the pile i got minute sticks of kindling stacked by hours up a mile

matchstick “thwick” make a spark and watch the sparks fly

burning all your bridges ain’t a way to light the dark by

i got fifteen friends three of which are maybe paladins

the rest pass just clean enough for me to eat my salad with

i’m reinventing reinvention the wheel has been bespoke

yeti never rolling up except a blunt for him to smoke

what?

am i supposed to care

spent three years just to grow my hair

a split end dam to keep the rain and all the ghosts out

double dipping simple fixes when the problem is the host now

mask like a lock jawed fiend, smile real shiny but my teeth aint clean

depression’s a hell of a drug and anxiety’s a machine

stuck to the front of the bus while it careens

no i can’t tokyo drift

i barely slide by let alone to DMs

besides the jokes i might top

i got the drive to get by but my car’s in the shop

black paint scratch got the head lights busted

did i deserve this well fate says i must have

five months of punishment for five minutes of fun, now the black eyed peas didn’t pay my bills anyhow

sorry fergie

so what

things are worse and better batter up to bash the backwards anything

what’s a matter birdy find a marathon that aint worth finishing 

run anyway

the machine isn’t evil isn’t good it’s indifferent, too big to see the little ants are people isnt it

god’s whole job’s to crunch numbers

most of my hope is with my brother

what to do but find another

found fam holds fast but lasts like lost lovers

found what i felt may be fleeting

found once that feeling may be leaving

changes aren’t always but change is

how does a bird approach love when a wing to the sky doesn’t seem like it’s enough

brush up with the clouds when i catch a fresh zephyr

fall out of my self all depending on the weather

mother magic might just love me maybe my fault for playing the fast talker

passive case, under foot, not a leader but a stalker

peter piper picked a nonaggressive lonely voyeur

twisted arms and made her second hand to her employers

bow down now with your nose to the pavement

wonder every evening where the wonder and the days went

no i’m not an innovator no i’m not a rebel

i’m not a model citizen even if i’m not the devil

but i advocate a braver face and a stiff upper lip

smile too keen to ever clean off the shit

suck it up or stuff it lest your loss be for the brown nose

looking further for my feelings lost my nerve but i found those

i got crows on both shoulders, looking out while they’re looking older

never got the hang of things a sixth sense or a second guessing

at least i got a couple pals i truly count as blessings

like two face blind spirits in a gator skin trench coat

skinwalker’s worst nightmare and a magician’s best friend yo

pastel patchwork like a pink string puppet

dance around my heartstrings like she dances round a subject

read cards like a catalogue, pick a pair to ask reality

just assertive enough not to trust not enough to have a personality

bear emotional pollution like a literal cross

shoulder pain panging but my brain is at a loss

i’m under sand under water under the boat under the weather

no sight of the horizon i’ll tell you if it gets better

(that’s a red flag)

down with the kelp and fishes, slam dunk sump and i swish and spit it

don’t know if i’ll ever surface up just to sip the bilgewater

don’t know if i’ll ever get to be another person’s good daughter

but why bother to please the poison when they’re just another box for you to put your toys in

callous cavalry collides the second son’s a second coming thriving off the putrid plumes that sent the first one running

oh but she’s back. cruise ship shit and a panic attack. no she don’t work no she don’t pay bills but titty skittle kid here still pops the pills

lost any sense of true relaxation when a white twenty something needs a vacay from her vacation 

vampire pale from a five month sick day 

yes i’m feeling drained no i won’t be picking new prey

nitrous in the pressure cooker, black sludge in the stew pot

emotions somewhere in my stomach man she isn’t looking too hot

featherweight fighter fitness fits her the least

winging went poorly what she needs is teeth

[my-one-love-is-music]

Be My Player 2? Ch. 33

Ummmm so this fic has officially passed 100k???? Like what??? I never thought this would get this long, but here we are and still so much more to write.

Thank you to everyone who's followed along with this fic! It certainly means a lot to me and I think you're going to enjoy this chapter!

Also on AO3!

Keith inhaled sharply as he slowly awoke. He felt better in the morning than he had in a long time and wouldn’t mind lazing around in bed a few more hours. The bed was soft and feather-light underneath him and he turned his face into the pillow under his head, inhaling the smell of Shiro’s home.

He was warm and happy, and he never wanted to leave.

“Shiro,” he murmured, sliding his arm across the mattress to where his boyfriend had laid claim the night before. He frowned when he found rumpled sheets and a lack of his boyfriend’s body.

Keith forced his eyes open and confirmed what he suspected. He grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows, looking around the small bedroom he was alone in.

He caught the smell of bacon cooking and smiled, lazily shoving the comforter off him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched his arms over his head, his back not making a single pop or protest in he didn’t know how long.

He pushed himself to his feet and swung the door the rest of the way open, making his way down the hall towards the kitchen.

Now that he was closer, he heard the bacon grease popping and sizzling in the pan, a low humming accompanying the sweet music. Keith quietly stepped into the doorway, not wanting to disturb Shiro just yet.

Shiro was at home behind the stove, relaxed in a way that Keith had only gotten to see a few times since they hadn’t been granted much time in person.

Keith crossed his arms and leaned against the archway, happy to watch Shiro work.

Shiro reached for the spice rack and glanced in his direction, freezing.

“Noooo,” he whined, lips pulling down in a pout. “I was going to be all romantic and bring you breakfast in bed.”

Keith chuckled and pushed off the doorway, closing the distance between them. He wrapped his arm around Shiro’s shoulders.

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that more carefully before you started cooking bacon,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Shiro’s lips.

Shiro smiled into the kiss, letting out a slow breath when they parted. He held Keith’s gaze. “Good morning,” he murmured.

Keith pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes. “Morning,” he breathed.

“Baby?” Shiro asked.

Keith bit his lip at the name. “Yeah?”

“Not that I don’t love having you right up next to me, but if you don’t let me get back to cooking, the bacon’s going to burn.”

Keith chuckled and released his hold on Shiro, giving him space to finish cooking. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Make the coffee?” he asked, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he sprinkled garlic powder over the scrambled eggs and lifted the pan of bacon from the stove. “Grounds are in the cabinet above the coffee maker.”

“Sure thing, babe,” Keith said, pulling open the cabinet. He pulled a filter from the package and the plastic container of coffee, setting to work prepping the machine. He set it to brew and tucked the grounds back in the cabinet.

Arms wrapped around his waist and he smiled, leaning into Shiro’s hold. Shiro pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Hungry for breakfast?” he murmured.

Keith nodded and let Shiro pull him over to the table which had been set when he wasn’t paying attention. Shiro pulled out his chair and Keith chuckled, taking his seat. Shiro sat next to him and they ate, listening as the coffee machine started to gurgle.

Keith gazed through the glass windows that opened into the backyard and the blue sky he could see through the trees. It was peaceful and pleasant, and Keith was happy. He picked up a slice of bacon and bit off the end, carefully sliding his foot to the side to wrap his ankle around Shiro’s.

~~

“Here we are,” Shiro said, pulling into a public parking lot. He tossed his ticket in the window and shoved his door open.

Keith did the same and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun off the surrounding cars. The sun was warm on his face even if the temperature of the air didn’t quite match it.

“This is a nice town,” Keith commented, letting Shiro take his hand and lead him down the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed. “It’s not as big as Chicago, but it’s got a lot of stuff close together. If you’re up to it, after we go shopping at the sporting goods’ store, there’s a nearby park that has great food trucks.”

“A picnic lunch?” Keith asked, wrapping his hand around Shiro’s bicep to press against his side. “If we weren’t already dating, I’d think you’re trying to woo me.”

Shiro chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before pulling him around a corner. “What makes you think that because we’re dating, I’ve stopped making it my mission to woo you?”

Keith ducked his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Ah here it is,” Shiro said, pulling the door to a large shop open. The bell rang over their heads and Shiro tugged him towards the back corner, already knowing where to go. “It’s not the best selection since this isn’t the biggest store around, but there should be something you can find.”

Keith immediately spotted a pair of red trunks and released Shiro’s hand, making a beeline for them. He checked the size and was about to be disappointed when he saw they were too small when he spotted another piece of red fabric behind a pair of black trunks. He pulled them free and glanced at the size. He held them up to his waist and smiled when they seemed to be a good fit.

“Is there a changing room in this place?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Shiro.

Shiro pointed behind him and he saw the archway between two wall displays.

“Be right back,” he said, slipping between the other racks of clothes.

Keith shut the door of the first changing room behind him and pushed the flimsy lock into place. The metal hanger made a soft clink when he hung it on the hook. He popped the button on his jeans as he pressed the toe of one shoe against the heel of the other and wobbled dangerously as he tried to get his shoes off.

He kicked his first shoe off and shook his other foot to get the other free before he yanked down the zipper of his jeans and shoved them down his legs.

Keith pulled the swim trunks from the hanger clips and stepped into the legs, pulling them up to settle around his waist. They were a fraction loose and he tightened the strings until they fit snug around his hips.

He looked in the mirror and judged the fit, finding he didn’t mind how they looked. They were a lot better than the over-washed, worn-out trunks the orphanage had for him as a kid when he was given free swimming lessons.

He carefully undid the strings and stepped out of them, putting them back on the hanger before he pulled his jeans back on and shoved his feet into his shoes. He grabbed the trunks before pulling open the changing room door.

Keith spotted Shiro absentmindedly browsing and smiled, walking up behind him.

“Hey.”

Shiro jumped and whirled around, rolling his eyes when he found Keith behind him. “Don’t do that.”

Keith chuckled and took his hand. “I’m ready if there’s nothing else you need.”

Shiro shook his head and pulled him towards the register with the lone cashier. “Nope. The only other thing I need today is some lunch from one of the park food trucks.”

“You’re in for a treat today,” the cashier said, catching the end of Shiro’s sentence. “I hear Johnny’s is going to be there.” He took the swim trunks from Keith and tossed the hanger in a bin under the counter, fishing the tag out from inside to scan the barcode.

“Really?” Shiro asked, eyes lighting up.

The cashier chuckled and nodded, holding his hand out for the twenty-dollar bill Keith passed to him. “Yeah. They tweeted about it an hour ago. And I think that really good cupcake one is going to be there, too. You might want to hurry though, we’re supposed to be getting some rain later.”

The cashier folded up the trunks and stuffed them into a bag with the receipt, passing it and Keith’s change back to him.

“Thanks for the tip,” Shiro said, taking Keith’s hand.

“No problem,” he said, waving them off. “But if you feel like returning the favor, I wouldn’t mind a sandwich from Johnny’s.”

Shiro chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he called over his shoulder as he pushed the door open.

Shiro guided him to a crosswalk, waiting near the curb for the light to change so they could cross.

A few cars passed before the light changed and Keith let himself be pulled along, glancing up at the buildings surrounding them. The city was peaceful. It was busy and had people but wasn’t as overwhelming as Chicago could be.

Children’s laughter met his ears and he tore his gaze away from the sky, spotting the large park as they approached. A dog barked, nearly running across their path as it jumped and caught a frisbee in its mouth before returning to its owner.

The sidewalks winding through the green area weren’t expansive and Keith spotted a pair of food trucks that were parked on the side of the road circling the area.

Short lines were crowded around both, but by some miracle, the one Shiro chose first didn’t have anyone waiting to order, only customers waiting on their food.

“Well?” Shiro asked with a smile. “What do you think?”

Keith glanced over the small wooden sign set up in front of the truck. He hummed and leaned into Shiro’s side. “What do you recommend?” he asked.

Shiro’s grin widened. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

Keith rolled his eyes. “Do you really need to ask me that? Now?”

He chuckled. “Let me order for you. I think you’ll like it.” He released his hand and stepped forward. “And don’t listen,” he warned, wagging a finger at him.

Keith huffed and crossed his arms, but obediently waited out of earshot. He watched as Shiro greeted the worker before he moved towards the back of the line once Shiro was finished.

“Happy?” Keith asked when Shiro made it back over to him, stuffing his change in his pocket.

“I’ll be happier once you taste what I’ve ordered for you,” he said, wrapping an arm around Keith’s waist.

“Let me buy dessert?”

Shiro pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “If that’s what you want.”

They stood in silence as the line crawled forward, enjoying being together with the sun shining over their heads. Keith spotted some white clouds on the distance, but they were still far enough off they wouldn’t roll in until later that afternoon.

Shiro practically snatched up the bag with their food and pulled Keith towards an empty bench. He dug around inside and pulled one of the foil-wrapped sandwiches free, handing it to Keith.

Keith smiled and set his shopping bag on the opposite side of him before carefully unwrapping the food. Shiro pulled his own free and waited impatiently as Keith sized up his sandwich, stretching out the moments between them.

“Keith,” Shiro huffed.

Keith chuckled and finally took a bite. He groaned at the hot, seasoned beef and cheese that hit his tongue. He chewed slowly, enjoying the flavor and hint of spices that danced over his taste buds. He looked up at Shiro and nodded.

“I knew you’d like it,” Shiro said happily. He ripped the foil from his own sandwich and took a generous bite, collapsing against the back of the park bench.

Keith slid across the bench until his side was pressed against Shiro’s. He gazed across the park and ate his lunch, warm and happy.

~~

Keith sighed, resting his head against Shiro’s shoulder. Shiro’s arm tightened around his waist as they stared at the tv and the movie they’d chosen to watch. Rain pattered lightly against the window, the gentle spring shower having rolled in an hour ago.

It was calm and peaceful, and Keith didn’t want to be anywhere else. He rolled his head back, waiting until Shiro pulled his gaze away from the screen to meet his eyes. He smiled and ducked his head, pressing a slow, languid kiss to Keith’s lips.

Keith smiled against Shiro’s lips and wrapped his arm around Shiro’s shoulders, not breaking the kiss as he straightened on the couch, some of his drowsiness pushed to the side.

Shiro made an interested noise in the back of his throat and tugged on Keith, trying to pull him closer. He went with the movement, throwing a leg over Shiro’s waist to slide into his lap.

Shiro flattened his other hand along Keith’s spine, forcing their chests together as Keith’s other arm wrapped around his shoulders. Keith hummed, trying to wiggle even closer as he swiped his tongue along Shiro’s bottom lip.

Shiro groaned and parted his lips, letting Keith’s tongue slip inside. Keith sighed, tasting a hint of tomato sauce from the pasta they’d eaten for dinner. Keith rolled his hips lazily and Shiro’s grip tightened.

Shiro sat up, uncrossing his ankles to plant his feet on the floor. He fumbled on the couch next to them, wrapping his fingers around the remote. He blindly pressed the power button, waiting until the sound cut off to toss the remote to the side and get a grip on the back of Keith’s thighs.

Shiro stood from the couch, letting Keith hook his ankles behind his back. He carefully navigated the living room, careful not to trip over anything as he made his way to the bedroom. The door creaked open and Keith broke the kiss, framing Shiro’s face with his hands.

Shiro chuckled and unhooked Keith’s ankles from his waist before he tossed him on the bed. Keith’s breath left him in a rush as he bounced once on the mattress. Shiro didn’t leave him alone for long and jumped onto the bed, rumpling the blankets.

Keith laughed and tried to roll away but Shiro got a hand around his waist to pull his back against his chest. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of Keith’s neck, making him sigh and tilt his head to the side.

Shiro flattened his hand on Keith’s stomach before pushing up the hem of his shirt to rest his palm over the smooth skin beneath. Keith arched into the touch, his eyes sliding shut as heat started to gather under his skin and his cock took notice of Shiro’s warmth wrapping around him like a blanket.

Keith arched his hips back, pressing his ass against Shiro’s cock, feeling the small bulge as he got his attention. Shiro groaned and tightened his grip on Keith, pushing him more firmly against him.

Shiro nipped at the side of his neck and he huffed a laugh, squirming in Shiro’s hands to turn around and face him.

“Nooooo,” Shiro protested as Keith came to face him.

Keith rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Shiro’s shoulders, bringing their lips together. He rolled his hips forward, groaning at the friction on his quickly hardening cock and the heat and need building under his skin.

Shiro broke their kiss and pressed their foreheads together. “I want to touch you,” he whispered.

“Do it,” Keith breathed. “I want you to. As long as I can touch you, too.”

Shiro nodded and pulled back, hands dropping to his pants to undo the button and pull the zipper down. Keith did the same, watching as Shiro was freed of his jeans and left in his boxers. He stretched back out beside him as Keith fought to kick his pants free, huffing when they caught on his foot.

Shiro chuckled and sat up, pulling them free before he dropped them over the edge of the bed. He trailed his fingers up Keith’s leg before digging his fingers into the meat of his thigh. Shiro smiled down at him and pressed another kiss to his lips.

Keith hummed into it and took hold of Shiro’s hand, rubbing circles into his palm with his thumb. He took a moment to enjoy the kiss before he pressed Shiro’s hand to his cock, gasping and bucking into the touch.

Shiro squeezed his fingers around Keith’s clothed shaft, earning a shaky exhale.

“I think we’re still wearing too many clothes,” he murmured.

Keith grinned. “I think you’d be right.” Instead of reaching for his own briefs, he hooked his index fingers over the waistband of Shiro’s boxers and shoved them down his legs, freeing his cock.

Keith gave himself a second to take him in and licked his lips. He glanced up at Shiro who was watching him, gaze open and relaxed. He tugged Keith’s underwear down, letting Keith kick them rest of the way off.

He huffed and flopped back down, throwing his arm over Shiro’s waist. “Now, where were we?”

“I think I was about to do this…” Shiro murmured, wrapping his fingers around both their cocks.

Keith shuddered, his eyes sliding shut at the overwhelming feeling of Shiro’s hot and hard cock against his own. It was almost too much, and his stomach tightened so quickly it was just on the verge of painful. He wasn’t going to last long. Not with how much he cared about Shiro. Not with how much he loved him.

“Fuck,” Keith breathed.

“Maybe later,” Shiro said with a breathy laugh. “I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

“Good because I won’t either,” he said, forcing his eyes open.

He met Shiro’s gaze and they both snickered, breathless and excited.

Shiro carefully stroked them together. It made Keith’s toes curl and he felt every muscle in his body tense. He let out a shaky breath, trying to hold himself back and retain some semblance of control. He pressed his forehead against Shiro’s.

Shiro kept his movements light, knowing any more pressure or more stimulation would push them over the edge when they wanted to savor things just a bit longer.

Keith bit his lip when he felt Shiro’s precome slide between their dicks. His heart thundered in his chest, ready to burst through his ribcage from all the sensations rushing through his body.

“Shiro?” he breathed.

Shiro pressed a kiss to his lips. “Let go, Keith. I’ll be right behind you,” he murmured, twisted his wrist on the next stroke.

Keith gasped and arched his back, pressing into Shiro’s fist as he came. His eyes went wide and unseeing and he shook as he felt Shiro’s cock pulse next to his, the mess growing between them.

The first thing Keith was able to focus on was the sound of heavy breathing bouncing off the walls of the bedroom. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus his vision and relaxed his spine from where he was nearly bent backwards, coming to face Shiro whose chest was heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

Keith smiled and pressed forward, capturing Shiro’s lips in a languid kiss. He sighed when he pulled back, his heart beating no less heavy in his chest.

“I love you, Shiro,” he murmured.

Shiro’s smile grew and he used his clean hand to pull Keith closer to him, trapping their mess between their shirts.

“I love you, too, Keith.”

If you enjoy my work, please reblog or consider buying me a ko-fi!

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another guest contribution from R.Ann Parris to The Prepper Journal. As always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and be entered into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards  with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies, then enter today!

One of the challenges when we get into preparing for disaster is keeping everything neat and organized. In some cases, we’re trying to maintain our own or a spouse’s sanity and keep some of our preparations neat, tidy and organized without being in plain sight while short on space, either square footage or because we rarely allow something to leave our grasp. Beyond the ease in counts and condition checks, and avoiding a hoarder’s larder, organization can help us with both rotating supplies and in some cases even rationing our supplies should we fall on hard times.

Happily, there’s lots of stuff out there that can help us. Repurposing some items that are inexpensive, commonly found curbside and at flea markets or yard sales, or that we might already have laying around can help us maintain that organization without breaking the bank.

Maps & Rolls

Keeping our wrapping paper neat and tidy might not appeal to preppers, but we can steal some of the ideas out there for keeping our maps, charts, and our property plats accessible and tidy. There’s one where you take an old wire shelf and affix it vertically to a wall or door instead of horizontally. The 250ml wine boxes are ideal for keeping both maps and wrapping paper contained and neat, and most alcohol retailers are simply delighted to let you have boxes.

Cutting the bottoms out of hanging shoe organizers lets us customize height. That one has added benefits because you can leave pouches intact to keep map pens, sprays, and dry erase markers and erasers right there with them. It also allows some mobility, so they can be re-hung by a work board, in a radio or control room, or at the desk and table where you do your planning.

Hanging Shoe Organizers

You have to watch the weight in these guys, but otherwise, the sky is the limit. They can hook us up in pretty much all wedges of our preparedness “health” wheels. I’ve got some in use for “daily” life, too.

One’s in the kitchen keeping small packets of instant cereal and snack foods and the last bar of one kind or another from either getting lost in the abyss or from having the boxes continue to eat up space. One’s for winter, and keeps hats, scarves, and gloves neat and organized. The bottom row holds some quick slip-on slippers for household members and the dogs’ various booties. There’s another set up with each person’s preferred garden and yard work sets of gloves and pocket detritus.

For preppers, the value goes up further. With stick-on labels or clothespins, we can use them to track dates for at-a-glance organization. We can also take a space where we would be limited to boxes or shelves and turn it into basically a rack for them. A couple of freebie curbside-pickup filing cabinets, a bar or two to go across the top, and we can string our organizers on dowels or sturdy branch/sapling trimmings.

The filing cabinets here are actually reading nooks, but it gives you an idea of how the addition of a plank (freebie-pickup shipping pallets, walls/shelves from curbside bookshelves) and a curtain (surviving sheet from a wrecked bedding set) can keep it from being “ugly” even if it’s out in a home where somebody cares. If appearance is less of a concern, some suit hangers and any ol’ pole can be hung in sheds, basements or a storage room to accomplish the same – a flip or slide-through storage area for small items.

Those items can be anything. It can be a great way to keep veggie seeds separated by planting/growing season and year. We can use them for sewing supplies or art supplies. Instant drink packets, seasoning packets and shakers, granola bars, little packets of vitamin-rich gummy treats, boxes and packets of pudding or gelatin mixes, and other kitchen items fit easily. We can arrange them to be a general category like snacks or spices, or we can set each up by expiration or best-by date.

Educational goodies, supplies for the radio room or office, entertainment items, hygiene items, and especially first-aid and medical items that do start separating or losing efficiency are all other options for storing someplace we can find and see them easily and check those dates without pawing through boxes.

We can use hanging closet organizers much the same way to buy some extra space, although they’re not as handy for the tiny little items and still have the weight restrictions.

We can also use them to help us ration, just like we can with canning jars. We can pack each with a week, a month, or a quarter’s “goodies”. That can be seasonings or instant helpers like gravy or dressing mix. It can also be things like chocolate chips, tea bags or a brick of coffee, smaller packets of cookie, edible cake decorations, or Slim Jim’s. Some of the shoe organizers are big enough we could even seed them with fresh games like Qwixx or Dog Bites Man, new decks of cards, some specialty feel-good lotion or chap stick, or something seasonal to brighten the mood.

Another option is to use a shoe organizer as a pre-staging area. Rather than those things that jump in buggies getting tossed in a box or drawer for a while, they can get slotted by category. It can also help with those items that seems like a great idea but then hide when we want them. That can be everything from eyeglass repair kits and those mini sewing kits, to things like outlet and light-switch wall plates, overhead pull cords, and those plastic twisty-cap wire connectors that like to multiply in drawers and tool rooms.

Curtain Rods

While we’re hanging things to improve our organization, we can keep an eye out for curtain rods. With some rings and-or big S-hooks, they can help us in all kinds of spaces. We can mount them in our bathrooms – and our outdoor camping/solar showers – to drape bathroom organizers and avoid having stuff sit on ledges and floors. With hooks affixed to light baskets and tubs, what we can hang for easy access increases even further.  Those baskets can easily be the bathroom organizers or oddball dishwasher or silverware baskets that show up here and there or wire or plastic bins form the dollar store, and get used for school and office supplies, kitchen spices, each individual’s hankies and bandanas, or anything else we like.

We can arrange them under cabinets or against walls to keep items like spools of thread, bungee cords, and weed-eater wire accessible. With hooks or loops, we can add our extension cords, gloves, and tools. By our doors, they’re another easy way to keep hats and gloves organized, and the airflow they’ll get will let them dry faster.

While I specified curtain rods, be flexible while we’re upcycling and repurposing. I see swingsets and bed frames on freebie listings and by the curb on a regular basis. Tree trimmings can yield nice, straight pieces. The scrap guys in town will let us have pretty much whatever we want at about a halfway between their cost and sale price. Be flexible.

  Garage & Shed Storage

We can use all kinds of oddball wrecked, found, used, or inexpensive items for storage, although the garage and shed where we don’t have to hear anything from family members really shines. We can use coat hangers and hooks with a piece of looped rope, chain, or bungee cord to keep heavy extension cords, hoses, and heavy rope neatly coiled and off the flat surfaces. A wrecked binder offers three rings that can hold anything, from our bungee cords to cleaned cans with a hole punched that can then hold our paint brushes, garden pruners, gloves, or safety glasses.

You have to pretty much murder somebody to find them now, but a plastic 2L soda bottle is awesome for allowing us to stack and move bottles and for keeping stuff in a pickup or van right where you want it. They can also be screwed flat to a wall to use the holes as shallow storage nodes, but they’re too shallow to have much value for me there. Instead, see if a plumbing outfitter or company has PVC scrap. It’s usually deeper and you can cobble that into a honeycomb with some screws and get a lot more use out of it.

Throw-Aways

All kinds of things that hit our recycling and trash have other uses, particularly in keeping our storage neat and tidy. The cardboard boxes that soda comes in get a lot of play for upcycling into soup and veggie can organizers, but we can also just slit the top off entirely. Swiffer pad tubs are awesome for stacking and labeling the sides, but really only for lightweight stuff. Old-school laundry detergent boxes with the flip-up lid and the little plastic handle are sturdy, stackable, and you can hook that handle around a screwdriver on your belt or a carabiner for hands-free carrying. Plastic coffee cans, jugs, powdered parmesan shakers, and creamer tubs are hugely versatile.

Indoors or out, they can help us organize absolutely anything. Arrange packets of Lipton and Knorr sides, seeds, Heartgard and Frontline, or spice blends. Keep extension cords, tow cables, tie-down straps, or Christmas lights neat and tidy, and ready to deploy again (which buys time and space for other stuff). They can also help us keep kits of commonly replaced items together.

The plastic options can help us keep pests out of dry pantry goods and little packets of drinks or boxes of pudding. Those plastic bottles are also handy for rationing out things like brown and white sugar that last forever in storage, or once we bust into bulk bags or buckets of snack foods and dry goods.

Drink bottles get a lot of play for organizing wire, ribbon, and cord. If you have access to wide-mouth juice or sports drink bottles, those make excellent ways to keep some ammo in a bag nice and dry – but don’t try it with narrow-neck water and soda bottles, not even with .22 LR. There’s nothing wrong with using them for beans or grains, either, since they stack up like cordwood well.

Mostly, though, I think people seriously underestimate how much water they need. I may be the only person affected by Uncle Murphy on a regular basis, but you need water stored even with a well, because you need time to hunt down the problem and repair it if the pump goes down. So, for the most part, I’d rather see soda bottles get used to store water, everywhere, in homes and in vehicles.

Organizing Preparedness Supplies

The time spent in organizing not only makes maintaining our storage a little less daunting and time consuming, but also allows us to better visualize gaps. The sanity boost from neatness and not being overwhelmed by our piles o’ stuff can’t really be overstated, either, and less-involved family is less likely to add to our stresses when they’re not overwhelmed by it all, too. Since there’s so many items out there that we can scrounge for free or little outlay and repurpose, we really don’t have any excuse not to keep our storage organized.

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