#there should be a holiday between halloween and christmas

[yuri-is-online]

The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.

But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?

notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.

Two sentences.

Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.

Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 

Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.

~~~~

Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.

“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  

“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.

“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  

“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  

“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”

“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”

“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  

“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-

“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  

You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 

“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.

“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.

“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.

“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 

“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.

“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  

“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.

~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.

“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.

“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”

“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”

“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”

“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.

“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”

“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”

“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.

“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.

“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.

“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.

“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.

“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”

“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.

“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.

It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.

~~~~

Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.

“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 

Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.

They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 

“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.

“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”

“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  

“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”

“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.

Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.

“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.

“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  

~~~~

For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.

“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  

“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.

“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  

“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”

“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”

“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 

“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 

“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”

“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.

“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.

“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”

“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  

“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  

“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.

“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.

“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  

“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”

“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.

“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”

“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.

“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.

~~~~

There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 

“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  

“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.

“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.

There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.

“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.

“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.

“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.

“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.

“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”

“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.

“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.

“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”

“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.

“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?

“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.

“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.

His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.

Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.

~~~~

“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  

“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.

“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.

“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.

“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  

“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.

Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?

“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”

“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  

“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”

“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.

“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.

~~~~

Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.

“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  

You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.

“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.

“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”

“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.

“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”

“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  

“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  

“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.

“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-

“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”

~~~~

“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.

“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”

“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  

“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”

“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”

“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”

“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 

“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”

~~~~

“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”

“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”

“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  

“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.

“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”

“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”

“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  

“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  

The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.

About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.

“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.

~~~~

“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”

“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.

“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”

“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  

“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.

“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”

“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”

“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.

“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.

“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  

“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”

“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.

“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.

“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”

“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.

Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.

Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.

Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  

What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?

He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.

“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.

“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”

“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”

“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-

“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.

[sukunas-wife]

Hehehe rising at 12:57 in the morning for my day of birth 🥺🤍🤍

In commemoration of my birthday, I offer Birthday Sukuna (Student edition) 🥺 I love Big Daddy Ryomen, he loves his wife so much even though she has no find details 💀 (Yet- maybe) they give me Kushina/Minato when Naruto had his Madara induced dream

In all things, the Sukuna family wasn't to extravagantly celebrate holidays. “Special days” such as Christmas, Halloween, Valentines, White Day, and those other seasonal festivities would be recognized, however Ryomen Senior and Junior would usually brush it off, leaving it to their wife and mother to make arrangements.

Akira Sukuna, was a woman who came from a family who loved to celebrate the holidays. Seeing it as a way for the family to come together and tighten loose bonds. Birthdays and Anniversaries in specific were her priority. A sentiment her husband had shared from the beginning. If there was a special day, it would be his wife’s birthday, or his son's birthday. Followed very closely by his wedding anniversary.

Now here she stood yelling at her son, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN Y/N’S BIRTHDAY IS THIS WEEK AND YOU DON'T HAVE A GIFT OR ANYTHING PLANNED OUT!? WHAT DID YOU DO FOR HER LAST BIRTHDAY!? DON'T TRY TO SPEAK OVER ME YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T DO ANYTHING THEN EITHER! RYOMEN SUKUNA JUNIOR, I MAY HAVE BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD BUT I WILL NOT HESITATE TO TAKE YOU OUT OF IT YOU KNOW HOW IMPORTANT BIRTHDAYS ARE I SHOULD- OH- MMM, YOU- RYOMEN GET YOUR SON.” She was livid, and pacing around in front of the table where she had sat her son after he nonchalantly mentioned your birthday would be during the week. Then proceeded to say “Oh I don’t have anything.” After his mother asked what he was going to do to celebrate.

Sukuna turned to look at his father who was attempting to avoid the scene, “Ryomen,” he cleared his throat unable to think of the proper words, “You should understand by now how important days like these are. They come around once a year. Holidays will continue with or without us, birthdays can only be celebrated with that person. You don’t celebrate the birthday of a dead person or a person who is no longer in your life, we celebrate the living because they’re alive and with us in these moments. Our time here is limited and that’s what makes it special, that’s what makes spending time with your loved ones special.” He looked at his wife for approval, she had a soft smile, “Aww my Ryomen.” She raised her arms bringing her husband into a hug, a hand on his face bringing him down to kiss him.

Sukuna cringed at the sight, and scoffed when he saw his dad wink at him. Of course his dad would know how to play his moms game and get away with it.

“Now,” his mom tuned to him with a smile, break into your saving and go find something nice.” Sukuna hesitated in getting up, waiting as if there was something more to be said, and there was. “AND I'M JUDGING EVERYTHING YOU DO AND BRING SO YOU BETTER BE READY TO EXPLAIN AND DEFEND YOURSELF WHEN YOU GET BACK RYOMEN.”

He was quick to evacuate hearing his dad laugh, “That’s my girl.” He heard the mumbles of his parents as he ran to his room and out the house, “Find something nice…” he scoffed to himself, “I’ll find something better than nice, I’ll find something amazing you’re gonna be jealous.” He was mouthing off, shaking his head while looking at the cards in his wallet. He had one escape plan if something was out of his limit, which would be hard considering his father never turned off his weekly allowance from all those years ago. He let out a smug laugh before he was officially ready to go.

—- —- —- —- —-

“So what’s the difference between this and that?” Sukuna was squinting displeased at the poor lady behind the counter. She looked around, frantically begging silently for her superior to hurry with his lunch. “Well, this is 2.8 carrots for 775,939.73 yen…” she motioned to the bracelet on the velvet display in front of him.

She hesitated to turn around in fear he’d pocket the bracelet and run off. But his stare had her more fearful of offending him by moving the bracelet away. “I-I’m sorry sir, would you please tell me what you're asking about when you refer to ‘that’.” He gestured to a necklace sitting on a high shelf over a velvet stand, “That necklace up there.” She slowly turned her head, shaky hand resting on the glass case ready to snatch up the bracelet at any sudden movements. Sukuna was occupied tapping away at his phone doing maths to justify his spending.

“S-sir,” the jeweller carefully placed the velvet stand in front of him on the glass case. She watched as Sukuna put his phone away, hand coming up and taking the centre diamond between his curled pointer finger and thumb. He lifted it higher to get a closer look at it, uncurling his hand to let the strand of diamonds run over his fingers. “This is seven carrots in total weight and it goes for 1,901,013.11 yen. It’s called a graduated diamond necklace. The diamonds graduate in size as they near the centre. Many couples or parents for their children like to start off with a hand full of diamonds usually 5-7, odd numbers so the centre stone usually remains the largest and add on more as they achieve accompaniments in life such as graduation, engagement, marriage, job promotions, pregnancies, anniversaries or birthdays.” The sales woman smiled at him, missing his eye twitch, “birthdays…” was all she heard him say before he took a deep breath and sighed, “This may be improbable but will you take a full single payment.” The lady blinked, “I..I’m.. Yes?”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Hey! I just called! You didn’t answer so I thought you were busy and weren’t gonna call back.” Your voice on the phone had Sukuna’s lips shifting into a faint cross of a smile and a smirk.

“I know, I watched the phone ring.” His grin grew when you scoffed “How rude. This is why you're not in the running for Boyfriend of the year and my plushie is.” His grin didn’t falter, “Yeah yeah, see if that little shit buys you your McDonalds happy meal when you want to collect their stupid little toys.” He heard your hushed devious laugh and rose a brow, “why-WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?” You spoke over him, and his eye twitched, “I’m out, running errands foorrr… running errands.” “Awwww you’re such a good boy running errands for your mommy huh?” He rolled his eyes at your tone, “Yeah sure.” He started to turn on his car, “WAIT” his eyes snapped to his phone, “Ryo, wait wait wait. Hold on, don’t do anything.” He started looking around, there wasn’t a chance in hell you were telling him to wait and not do anything just by chance. He saw you, running up the sidewalk and around his car to the passenger side and jumping in, your phones echoing until you ended the call. He looked at you, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed, “Hi.” You smiled at him, “y/n…” he sighed, “What were you doing running down the sidewalk.”

“Oh, well, I had to um, I was doing a thing where I was going to go and-“ he cut you off with an unimpressed look, “You were going to McDonalds for that hello kitt-Sanrio collection!” You cut him off with a grin leaning forward and smacking the dashboard, “C'mon let’s go! The fries are only getting colder.” He sighed, “Fine but first, get away from the dashboard.” His arm pushing you back against the seat as he reached over to grab your seat belt was something you’d never fight against, instead you always took the opportunity to grab his face and kiss his cheek.

“So what are you doing here at,” you looked out the window, “Woah, that’s the fancy jewellery store.” He shrugged, “Picking up a gift.” He was nonchalant and you awed, “Aww your dad is so sweet to your mom, he loves his wife so much.” He shook his head with a faint smile, side eyeing how your expression, how your eyes lingered on the shop with a soft smile. “Alright, let’s go.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Cmmoonn Ryyooooo.” You whine sitting beside him. He was still sucking from his straw, side eyes you and he tilted his head to the side. You took it as a yes and started to raise your hand and he pulled his head back, “No.” you huffed, “You’re just jealous I’m prettier.” He rolled his eyes watching as you threw your Kuromi comb back onto the booth's table and picked up the sliding Little Twin Stars mirror, opening it to look at yourself and nodding your head. He laughed and put his empty cup down. You looked at his empty cup as he flicked the fries on the wrapper around before eating one. You picked up your cup and took a sip holding it in your hand as if your were offering it, he took and started to sip on what was left of your drink and you angled the mirror to look at him. He let the straw go to make a face at you through the mirror. Snapping your head to him, “Why did you drink my sprite?” He looked confused, “You gave it to m-why did you drink my sprite I was just holding it here and you took-.” You closed your mouth when he pressed some fries to your lip and you shook your head, “Why did you drink-“ he held the fries out to you and you smiled trying to pull away and he did it again, finally you took a bite of the fries and he snapped back at you “why did you eat my fries?” You looked away smiling half covering your face with your spread open hand, “I can't stand you.” You missed his grin, “It’s a good thing you’re sitting down then.” You both sat back against the booth, watching the orange even slowly turn pink. The people passing, the ones on bikes, the kids running by looking like they were avoiding someone they had caused trouble for. You smiled propping your face on the palm of your hand, staring off into the skyline watching the birds pass over. “What do you think tomorrow will be like?” He eyed you, following your stare into the city building skyline. “Hopefully quiet, I wanted to sleep in but I ended up getting in trouble this morning and sent out.” You hummed, “heh, your mom reminds me of Naruto’s mom, don’t tell me your dad I’d like Minato too.” Sukuna went blank, doing his best to remember what you were talking about. There was a small twitch in his lips, “It’s close.”

You smiled huffing through your nose, “Oh wanna go with me to pick up a dress? I was supposed to earlier but ya know.” You picked up the little hello kitty case and shook it around, “I got distracted.” He smirked down at you, “Got distracted or just wanted a ride?” Your sheepish grin gave it away, “Alright, let’s clean up and go.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“You’ve been out all day, what did you get?” Sukuna’s mother was quick to stop him at the entrance, “You don’t have anything big so I’m hoping you have plans?” Her eye twitched the same way he had earlier under the stress.

“I do.” She smiled pulling him in, great WE” she yelled back over her shoulder, “want to hear all about it.”

Sukuna heard his dad groan, “Oh- I mean ofcourse we do.”

That’s how he ended up sat across from them, all of them in silence after he explained his gift choice… “Well.. congratulations on your engagement sweetie.” Sukuna and his father looked at their respective wife and mom, “I’m sorry, dove, what did you say?”

“It's graduation. diamond. necklace. Ryomen, that’s a lifelong commitment. Y/n isn’t his daughter so he would be stupid if he’s going to give this gift away and he doesn’t plan on having a future with her. But, that’s not my little Ryomen. No, he’s smarter than that, so I’m congratulating him on his pre engagement statement.” She looked away sipping from her cup of tea that had long ago gone cold. Her husband was looking at her and she placed her cup down, “Don’t argue with me about this, he came in here and said it’s for LIFE ACHIEVEMENTS, then said graduations, Engagements, marriages, pregnancies and anniversaries- does that not sounds like the process of what their lives could pass through???” Her husband paused to think about it, she was making sense, Sukuna was looking between the both of them, “I also bought a dress…” His mom smiled fondly, “Oh that’s sweet, what colour is it?” “…White..” his mom laughed softly, not at his choices but how in her head it sounds like a marriage was taking place, replace the necklace with a ring and she’d be telling him goodbye next week.

“Well, as long as you put thought into it I’m happy and I know y/n will love it.” His mothers soft eyes and smile matched her tone and he nodded. “I hope so, she basically chose it out and left it because she said she couldn’t ever buy something that fancy without a special occasion.” He scrolled through his phone to find the video of you trying on the dress, his mom saw the look on your face, how your eyes lit up when you turned to the mirror, the smile on your face and how your head snapped to him and ‘you’re taking a picture?’ You smiled with closed eyes holding up a peace sign and, ‘Heh, that’s the best you got?’ He questioned you and you pouted, ‘How do you like it?’ The sales woman who finished laying out the dress asked you, “It’s really pretty! I love the sleeves! It’s a little simple but it would look amazing in pictures.’ Your excitement shined through, ‘It’s our first event dress created, I’m so glad you love it, it’s only 152,100.05 yen. We can alter sizes and length upon request if you’d like, but in my opinion I think the length is perfect here, but in the back we could add a small clasp to hold it in just a bit more snug.’ Your blank smile was enough for Sukuna to cut off the video and go to your rescue.

“Sweetie.” His mom smiled at him, but he was smiling like a fool at his phone, the silly look of your blank smile made him laugh, “Ryomen.” He looked up at his mom, “That’s an event gown…” he blinked and nodded, “I heard her say it was an event gown.” His brows furrowed, “A WEDDING, event gown.” His mom stressed the word, “I would know, I was there and I saw the dress when they first brought it in store a week ago for their wedding debut.”

“Biology wants what it wants.”

—- —- —- —- —-

‘Are you going to class in the morning?’ You squinted at Sukuna’s message, it was almost midnight when you had woken up to his message. ‘No, I’m gonna sleep in late. I don't wanna go in tomorrow.’ You watched the screen of your phone when the chat bubble popped up. ‘FINE THEN, didn’t wanna see your face in the morning anyway 😒’ you smiled and laughed lightly at his message. Head nodding as you yawned, blurry vision as you got ready to nod off again.

‘Still awake?’ You blinked slowly at the message, typing your answer and accidentally hitting answer when a call came in.

‘Hey’ Sukuna’s voice on the phone was comforting, ‘hey.’ You were cut off by a yawn. ‘Y/n.. I need to tell you something.’ Yawning again you tried to answer, ‘yeah?’

‘I…’ the line went quiet for a second ‘Happy Birthday y/n…’ silence, you smiled, ‘Thanks Ryo.’ The smile was evident in your voice as you yawned again. Silence took over the line, you laid their comfortably to the thought of Sukuna being the first to wish you happy birthday. ‘Y/n?’ You hummed, ‘Ryomen.’ He let out what sounded like a smug scoff. “I love you…’

You grinned like a mad man, “I love you Ryomen.” You could hear the smile in his voice when he finally spoke up again, ‘Get some rest I’ll see you tomorrow then.’ You hummed with a smile, ‘yeeaah, I’ll see you tomorrow Kuna’m.’

—- —- —- —- —-

Waking up at 5 in the morning wasn’t ideal on your birthday, yet here you were, in a haze staring at your window that was being tapped on. The brief wave of panic had you shooting up until you heard the voice of your cursed lover. Sighing you opened the window and he quietly made his way in.

You yawned trying to ask him why he was here and he just brushed you off kicking off his shoes and taking off his sweater showing the long sleeve shirt that hugged his frame. He pulled down his sweat pants and you were going to look away until he mumbled “Calm down I’m wearing pants.” You looked back to see he was in fact wearing a thinner set of joggers, before he threw himself onto your bed throwing the blanket back. You looked at him as he looked at you, “You coming or not?” You weren’t sure what to say, as another yawn racked through your lungs and chest, “Yeah let me just.” You turned and locked your room door playing a risky game of getting caught with your boyfriend in your bed or getting yelled at for having a locked door. Either way, you’d take a scolding for a locked door any day. Yawning as you made your way to your bed, Sukuna rolled his eyes when he saw how much space you left. With one arm he hauled you over into his chest using the other to pull the blanket up over your shoulder. You settled on his chest as he held you tight, “Happy Birthday brat.” You smiled and hummed, a quiet “yaaay”, left you as you fell asleep on his chest to the faint scent of his cologne comforting you.

—- —- —- —- —-

It wasn’t until you woke up that you realised you had drooled over Sukuna’s chest. You looked up at him and he had an arm thrown over his eyes, the other wrapped around you loosely. His chest was rising and falling slowly as you started to sit up. You sat up and smiled down at him. When his hand slipped from your side he started to wake up groaning. “What time is it?” He was drowsy based on his squinty eyes that kept closing slowly and he’d force them open again. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, “It’s 10:56.” He hummed and let his head fall back into your pillow. You sat there just staring at him and he was staring off at the roof.

“I’m hungry..” he looked at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling before answering you, “Where do you wanna go?” He turned to you to see your cheesy grin before he popped your thigh with his hand, “It’s your birthday we’re not going to McDonald’s.” You huffed, pulling his hand into yours, spreading his fingers out and popping his joints, “How about one of those fancy kfc lunches?” He laughed, flexing his hand before intertwining his hand with your own, “I’ll take you somewhere I know that little brain of yours will be entertained entirely.” You would’ve squinted at his little Brian comment but let it slide, “alright, I’ll get dressed then and we can go. He rolled over to face you, you were sitting facing his chest before he propped his head up on an arm, “The place doesn't open til four, we have about 6 hours to burn if there’s something you wanna do.” You sighed, “I don’t know, I’m just hungry.” He huffed, flaring his dramatics, “Fine, get ready I’ll take you somewhere you can eat BEFORE we go eat.” He watched as you jumped up running over to your closet pulling out whatever it was before rushing out your room. He made quick work of getting out of your bed and running to your window to pull his bag in. It was a duffle bag that had your presents, his clothes and a few extra things.

By the time you came back he was dressed and stretched out over your bed that he tried to straighten up. “Took long enough.”

—- —- —- —- —-

You were indulgent in the little treats Sukuna kept paying for. By now you had one to many mini bags and Sukuna was carrying a few more. Each one was filled with chocolates and sweets you had picked up from every shop he had taken you to. Biting into a chewy fudge you were content with how it was sweet but not overwhelming, it was smooth and didn’t taste strongly or bitter. Turning to Sukuna with a smile you held the piece up to his lips, any other day he’d resist and make you work for it but he was curious and immediately inhaled your sweet making you laugh. The both of you sat in silence sharing sweets and opinions on what could be better. You mostly listened to Sukuna as he critiqued harsher things.

“Now what?” You asked as he chewed on another piece you pushed to his lips. He shrugged, “Is there anything you wanted to do?” You hummed looking around, and down at your shoes. They were your worn down sneakers, you’d wear when you’d often go out with Sukuna because they were more comfortable than those stiff loafers you’d use for uniform. You kicked your feet, “I wanna go buy new shoes, pretty soon I’ll have to retire these.” He looked at your shoes, “Yeah, didn’t wanna say anything but they look like they’re begging for a break.” You smacked his shoulder and he grinned at you catching your hand squeezing it, “truth hurts sweetheart.”

“Alright, let’s go then, take my bags.” You handed him the rest of the small bags that held chocolates neither of you liked. He rolled his eyes taking them from you and following you God knows where.

That’s how you ended up here, trying on shoes with Sukuna watching intently. You made the mistake of asking his opinion and he had taken his role seriously. “No, you’re not a show girl y/n you’re not going to wear six inch heels anywhere. You’ll break your ankle anyway, look.” His open hand motioned to your wobbly walk. “You just hate me cause I’m pretty Ryo.” He let out a single laugh, “Try these instead.” You sat across the aisle from him holding up your foot to him, “Change it for me?” If you were anyone else he would’ve thrown the box of shoes at you. But alas, there he was with a soft smile a scoff, untying your heel and putting your sock back on he placed the new shoe on your foot. They were simple converse but you were gleaming because he put it on and even tied it for you. “Perfect.” You wiggled your foot at him and he grabbed your foot by the sole of the shoe pulling the shoe off, “Great, we’ve been here so long I think we can go eat now.” You hummed lifting your other foot for him to take the heel off and put your sock on. He watched as you huffed trying to slip your old shoes on. “What about all the bags?” “We can take them back to your home and I’ll give you your birthday present.” He saw how your eyes lit up, “How about now?”

The way you exaggerated batting your eyelashes had a small smile tugging at his lips, “I left it at your house so you wouldn’t bother me all day, let’s go pay and then when we get there you can open it. I won’t fight you about it because you have to use it today or I’ll take it back.” You were smiling like a love struck fool when he offered his hand. You took it, letting him help you up before hugging his arm resting your head on his shoulder, “I love you.” He looked down at you from an angle, “mhm.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“No… Sukuna..” you held the dress to your chest looking at him with a sympathetic smile, before holding the dress up and smiling at it before hugging it to your chest again looking at Sukuna, “you didn’t have too Ryo, I love it so much, but it was so expensive I can’t, awww but it’s so pretty Ryyoooo.” You whined doing a little stompy dance squeezing your dress to your chest before throwing it in your bed beside Sukuna. He reached over to pick it up until you were between his legs squeezing him in a hug, his head pressed against your chest with wide eyes. He couldn’t get used to the displays of affection, still he let his hands hover over you until he hugged your waist letting you press your cheek to the top of his head and squeeze him harder, “I lied you are in the running for best boyfriend of the year.” You didn’t see the way he smiled but you felt the way he laughed when he pulled away shaking his head, “Where’s that damn plushie anyway.” You pulled him back into your chest fearing for your plushies life, “Uh, no where.” He squeezed your waist in his hud before he tried to push you back so he could stand. “Get dressed, I need to get ready.” You finally let him go and he turned to give your dress a Quick Look before grabbing his bag and heading out to the bathroom.

It took half an hour for you to get ready and you were still in a Fritz about shoes and how you were supposed to close your zipper. Finally you gave up sitting down on your bed huffing. The knock on your door pulled you out of your despair, “help me..” your plea had Sukuna dropping his bag and walking over to you with a focused face as he motioned you to stand. You did and face your open closet door, the body mirror there showed your reflection and how elegant the dress made you look. You smiled at yourself watching as Sukuna looked like he was struggling, “Step forward.” Was all he said as he finally stood behind you and zipped up your dress, you were smiling bright at your reflection, watching how it looked like he was pulling at something. “Is something wrong?” He looked up at you through the mirror, “Yeah something is missing.” His furrowed brows looked concerned through the mirror and you gave him a worried look, “Put your hands down I’ll fix it.” You kept your arms to your side hearing him rustle something around before he looked up bringing his arms around your shoulder over chest. He pressed his hands together before pulling them apart slowly showing you the reflection of the necklace he had bought. Your jaw dropped before you started choking, “RYOMEN.” You tried to step back only to bump into his chest as he laughed, stepping back to clip the necklace onto you, “What.” “NO RYO you didn’t have to, please, I’m gonna cry.” His smile was priceless, he looked so soft staring at you through the mirror. The edges of his lips were pulled up into soft smiles, his eyes were full of sentiment. “I think it fits well y/n.” You felt heat race to your face as you forced your eyes closed cupping your hands over your face. You turned to face him, hugging him and burying your face in his chest to hide your face, “rryyooo.” Your muffled whine was ignored when he laughed lightly patting you back with his hand, “if you really don’t want it I’ll take it-NO IT'S MINE.” The way you turned your head to the side with a sheepish pout led him to sigh, smiling down at you, “you’re a mess y/n.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Ooou, well aren’t you just fancy.” You shook your head side to side taunting him. “No, I just don’t spend all my money at McDonald’s for toys.” He flicked your forehead making you squirt him and make a face. “So… what is this exactly?”

“Just trust me you’ll like it alright, my parents are here also or else we wouldn’t get a private room so you can have fun with that also.” You both stopped when the hostess stopped in front of a Shoji door, “This is the room reserved for Ryomen Sukuna and company. Company has already arrived.” She slid the door open and there you saw Mr and Mrs Sukuna. Your bright smile was genuine as you greeted them, being wished happy birthday and squeezed into a tight hug by his mother. She held at arm's length, “Oh you look beautiful! This is beautiful. Where did you get it? You look very nice y/n.” Her eyes fell on her son, she looked him up and down, “I see you took a lesson from your father.” Her husband choked in the background looking at his son. Black dress shirt, black dress pants, shiny dress shoes and a black tie. “I don’t see anything wrong with it…” his mumble had her casting him a side glance, “There are other colours other than black husband.” He grinned, “Says the woman wearing black.” You smiled before she turned back to you rolling her eyes, “men.” Your laugh had her refocusing on you, “assuming Sukuna was with you all day after I got a call saying he was in fact not in school, how was your day?” She was smiling, nodding along as you went about telling her of the chocolates you tried, she was surprised Sukuna ate any considering he didn’t like chocolate all that much. Even more surprised when you told her you spent over an hour shoe shopping before he finally found you a decent pair. The two of you kept talking until she asked what he had gotten you as a gift. She was how you perked up jumping out of your chair to show her your dress in its full glory, “He bought me this dress, I really loved it when we saw it in a store, but I couldn’t get it because of how pricey it was. I almost started crying and telling him to take it back.” His mother admired your enthusiasm and sheepish smile, “Well, it looks amazing y/n. A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl.” You blushed with a sheepish smile. “Thank you he also got me this actually, you asked earlier but I didn’t get the chance to answer.” She watched as your hand touched the necklace. Your expression changed to a soft smile as you looked down, “I kept telling him he didn’t have too, I actually started crying.” She looked at her son, he was staring at you with a goofy smile until his dad elbowed him talking about something he didn’t have a clue of.

She smiled, “You’re a very lucky girl Y/n, but I can say that Ryomen is even luckier to have found someone like you.”

You all turned to the door when there was a tap. A chef rolled in with a cart, “It’s a special day, so we’re going to make it extra special!” Sukuna’s mom left you to sit by her husband leaving room for Sukuna to sit with you, “You’re going to love this.” You smiled at him, he was staring at you with a small smile. You reached over under the table taking his hand and bringing it to your lap squeezing it in both of yours. “Thank you for everything Ryomen, I love you.” It wasn't until your hand came up to bring his face closer and you kissed his jaw he reacted. His father laughed at his son's wide eyes and reddening face. The Chef laughed, drawing a heart with oil on the flat grill, “ah, young love,” he lit the oil causing a burst of flames leaving you in awe, squeezing and shaking Sukuna’s hand. He missed the entire show but was content with taking in your reactions.

It was true and he hadn’t realised it, he was in love with you and he couldn’t deny it.

(On a side note, I went to early birthday lunch and I dressed up and a lady literally got a glimpse of me and snapped her head around and screamed across the room “OH MY GOD YOURE BEAUTIFUL!” And i felt so loved 🥰🥰 also go you wanna leave me a gift 🥹 here’s my PayPal (my cash app didn’t wanna link) but it’s not obligatory or anything, I’ll probably take them down later because it makes me feel funny. Someone sent me a dollar and I love that virtual dollar sm it makes me smile lol)

Tag: @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille

@sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing

🤍🥳

[loveswrites]

Pumpkins Please Billy Loomis x Stu Marcher x reader

Pumpkins Please Billy x Reader x Stu

Word count: 1397

Time it Took me: 1 hours 30 mins

To my loves: It was so obvious that stu and billy would win for our celebration of 300 followers! I wrote it that same night so I've had it in my drafts for 6 days now. I was thinking if I should wait till the poll ended but we reached over 300 followers before it even did, So here you go loves! Enjoy! Thank you for the support. It makes me so happy you guys enjoy my writing as it is all I want to do in life.

Love <3

“I wanna carve a pumpkin.” You pouted.

“Why don’t we just crave someone up instead.” Billy smirked playing with the tip of his knife. 

“I already have the pumpkins at my house. You wanna carve em here or there?” Stu said dropping himself on the bed making you and Billy shake with the bed. 

“You didn’t tell me you bought pumpkins.” Billy said, narrowing his eyes at Stu.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” Stu laughed out.

“Yes.” You and Billy said in unison. 

Stu started to laugh but slowly stopped when he realized you and Billy were not joking. 

“I just thought I should have them at the house since you know it is halloween. You know our favorite holiday.” Stu said, looking in between you and Billy.

“It’s not my favorite holiday mine is-”

“Christmas.” The two boys groaned, making you smile.

“The moment September 1st came along you were running around here yelling out ‘It’s christmas!’” Billy mocked you but you could see the slight smile in his cheeks as he recalled the memory. 

“It’s a lovely holiday, what can I say?” You smiled rubbing your socks together. 

Billy stroked the sides of your waist with his knife sending a shiver down your spine. He did this often. To both you and Stu. Still would often get cut most of the time cause he'd always laugh or move too much. But you trusted Billy to never leave a mark on you and he never did. Never has. 

Billy had three favorite things. His knives. His girl. And his best friend.

“Do we have to go to school tomorrow?” You questioned as Stu rubbed your legs while he stared up at the ceiling.

“You wanna skip again? Something on your mind, pretty girl?” Stu questioned. 

“Is someone bothering you? I can handle that, you know.” Billy said with stern eyes as he watched you respond.

“No no none of that I’m fine and no ones bothering me. I just don’t want to go and talk to people you know?” You said, stressed by the thought of even being in that building. 

“When do your parents get back in town?” Billy asked, putting his knife on your nightstand after taking one last long drag against your skin that sent tingles throughout your body.

Your parents had left for a business trip so you invited your two boyfriends to keep you company because why not? They weren’t doing anything before you called anyways.

“Sometime next week. It might get extended depending on some things. They told me I could go with them as always but I wanted to stay.” You said snuggling into Billy’s side.

“I would’ve left. No school and a free trip as a replacement sounds fun right about now.” Stu said, making you smile knowing that he wouldn’t just leave. He’d make sure that you and Billy were able to come as well. No matter if he wanted to admit it or not Stu couldn’t live without Billy nor you. 

Looking up at Billy who had his eyes closed you know he couldn’t live without you or Stu also. He wouldn’t admit it but he shows his love in crazy ways. Rather that’s spray painting the sides of buildings to pulling pranks on literally anybody to actual crimes. Billy has killed for you and Stu. If someone hurt one of you two you either never saw them again or saw them in the news the next day. Same if it was reversed with Stu but Stu doesn’t really clean his tracks very well so it’s mostly just Billy. 

You wondered if loving them made you a bad person. You wondered if keeping their victims a secret made you a murder. You wondered if not feeling a drop of remorse made it seem like you have the knife in your hand. 

But at the end of the day you didn’t really care because at the end of these dark sad thoughts all you saw was Billy and Stu. The two crazy boys who were in love with you. The two boys who showed you the world and would kill anyone who got in the way of your happy fairytale. You just prayed that they wouldn’t be the one to ruin your love story. 

You woke up the next morning feeling relaxed and refreshed. This made you just up and check the time. 1:24 pm. Shit you thought I missed damn near all of school. Rubbing your eyes you noticed that your bed was empty. Where did they go? Getting out of your bed you walked downstairs. Hearing voices, you followed them to the kitchen.

“Dumbass! the butter goes first, did you not read the box?” Billy snapped hitting Stu in the back of his head with said box. 

“You didn’t say that!” Stu said, trying to defend himself as he wiped his cheek leaving some flour in its place making you smile. 

“Maybe if you looked at the box I wouldn’t have to say it!” Billy fussed back. Stu opened his mouth to say something but that's when you decided to make yourself known.

“So are you two gonna bicker all day or tell me what you're doing?” You questioned walking fully into the kitchen.

“Baking you some cookies. Again..” Stu said, making you frown your eyebrows.

“Again?” You questioned.

“Stu burned the first batch.” Billy said, rolling his eyes.

“I did not! They just cooked a little bit longer than the rest.” Stu finished.

“Burnt.” You and Billy said in unison. That was happening a lot more often than usual. 

“We just wanted to do something nice for you before you woke up.” Stu said sneezing all over the batter when he rubbed flour on his face.

“What the fuck Stu!” Billy yelled while you just turned your nose up at the fact that he just sneezed on the batter.

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry. Like at all. I just wanna carve pumpkins okay? That’s it.” You said shifting your eyes between Billy and Stu.

“I’ll go get the pumpkins then.” Stu said starting to move, making you and Billy scream out ‘No!’.

“No! I’ll do it,  just stay here.” Billy said, shaking his head as he walked past you but not before giving you your ‘morning kiss’.

“You keep touching me I’m gonna throw pumpkin guts all over you.” You yelled out. Stu’s elbow kept touching yours as he attempted to show you how to carve your pumpkin.

“I’m trying to help you! You're doing it all wrong, trust me I do pumpkins.” Stu stated as if he was some kind of Pumpkin master.

“You do pumpkins?” You laughed out, tightening the grip on the knife in your hand.

“Shut up if I did you’d be jealous of the pumpkin.” Stu said, rolling his eyes. 

“As if, Who wants to sleep with you?” You questioned going back to cutting your pumpkin.

“You!” Stu said laughing as if that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Only on holidays.. Billy gets Monday through friday.” You said poking your tongue out at Stu to which he leaned in and bit your tongue making you jump back squealing in surprise. 

“Good thing Halloween is coming up.” Stu grinned. 

“Billy, he bit me!” You pointed at Stu with the knife in your hand. Billy pointed down to your pumpkin that was hanging on for dear life. 

“You need help, you keep cutting it like that there's not gonna be any pumpkin left.” Billy said, smirking, making Stu laugh.

“Shut up, it's perfectly fine.” You said going back to cutting pieces of the pumpkin.

“As if.” Stu snickered, earning a handful of pumpkin guts to the face.

“Hey!” Stu yelled out. 

“That’s what you get your lucky I didn’t throw the whole pumpkin!” You yelled.

“What pumpkin?!” Stu yelled back making you gasp.

“Billy!” You yelled.

“God.” Billy said, holding his head in his hands still with the knife in his hand. All he could hear was you two fighting with each other

He was in for a long bumpy ride if he wanted to be with you two forever. But watching the two of the most important people in his life bicker made him realize that he would kill any bump in that road to make them happy.  

[bro-atz]

rooftop philosophy

in which: all hunter wants is a place to eat his lunch peacefully, but you disrupt the peace

pair: hunter/gn!reader

word count: 2k

content: fluff, a lot of unpopular opinions, slight heartbreak, kissing, teasing, and a box of chocolates?

apply for the permanent taglist here!

Hunter never thought that he’d have to share his safe place. He discovered that the roof was always unlocked one day by accident because he ran to the top of the stairs and tripped, his hand pushing the door open. He was running away from club recruiters that day. The school’s club fest was going on, and each booth tried to grab him before the other one could, hence the running away. Hunter was popular, and he knew that and he didn’t hate it, but he wasn’t a huge fan of all of the attention either. He needed a place he could go to and decompress in the middle of the school day.

So, when you showed up, he was flabbergasted. He was pretty careful about coming to the roof. All of his friends knew that he would go some place else to have lunch— they assumed with his significant other or something— and they all respected his privacy. You, on the other hand, were not close with Hunter in the slightest. You noticed every day around lunch time that he would sneak off somewhere, and one day, you decided to follow him all the way up to the roof.

The boy reluctantly shared his space with you because he was nice but also because he was scared that you were going to tell someone about the fact that the doors to the roof were unlocked and then the school would lock the doors and he’d have to find a new place. You, however, did not know this fear. You just wanted to enjoy the air outside, and the only times to do that were either during gym class or lunch.

You weren’t one to talk much in class, but you loved talking to your friends. You didn’t know if you could consider Hunter your friend on that kind of level, but talking to him was easy because he would just sit and eat his lunch in peace and occasionally agree with you while you talked about all the things in the world that concerned you, most of them being unpopular opinions.

“I still don’t get why people say money can’t buy happiness,” you started one day. “Money can totally buy happiness. My neighbors were really upset with their grandma died, and two weeks later, they were happy because they bought a dog. A dog. That’s literally buying happiness.”

Hunter nodded slightly in agreement, but you didn’t notice.

“I can’t make myself happy without spending money nowadays. No one can. If you want cheer up by eating chocolate or something, you have to buy it, right? That’s buying happiness. Little kids always want stuffed animals or toys, and when they’re sad, parents usually buy something to make them happy. That’s also buying happiness! Whoever said money can’t buy happiness is stupid.”

You continued talking while Hunter cleaned up the wrappers around him— he was pretty much done eating.

“The quote came from 1750 or something, so it makes sense for then, but now? Money is happiness. Material wealth is tied to happiness, and you can quote me on that.”

The bell rang. The unspoken agreement between the two of you was that you would head back to the classroom first, then him a couple minutes later. It’s not that he didn’t want to be caught with you, but he didn’t want his hiding spot being found, and if people thought you two were together, then it meant risking the discovering of his spot.

“Fairy tales are horrible if you really think about it. They tell you that there’s always a good person and an evil person and that you’re either one or the other. Fables are where it’s at. Those have lessons and morals, and more humanizing. Give me a lesson over a conquest any day.”

“Christmas is not the best holiday. Halloween is. We should be celebrating Halloween and having that day off to work on our costumes and enjoy the weather before it gets freezing cold outside.”

“Trying to put sweet and salty things in the same snack is gross and doesn’t work. They should come together but be packed separately so we can balance the flavors the way we want to.”

You would come upstairs with a new opinion everyday, and Hunter would listen to your opinions everyday.

As the school year progressed, there was one boy in Hunter’s friend group that caught your attention: Junghoon. Every time you saw him, your heart would flutter. He was always smiling and always laughing, and you knew that you didn’t stand a chance with him because of how immensely popular he was with the rest of the student body. Until…

“Forgetting to hit send on a message really does happen! Why do people automatically assume that it’s a white lie?! I literally forgot to hit submit on my homework last night, and now I have detention. I swear, I did the work…”

The bell rang. Hunter got up, and you left first. Same as usual. When you stayed back in school that day to serve your detention, you ended up getting to spend it with Junghoon, who was also in detention for the same reason as you. 

“I do this all the time,” Junghoon sighed as he admitted to you. “I just suck at responding and pressing buttons. I’ll have something I want to ask someone and have it all typed out, but when they don’t respond, I get upset, and then check my messages to see that I never sent the damn thing. So annoying.”

“Haha, tell me about it,” you said as you stared dreamily at him. That was also the shortest sentence you said that day.

It made you so happy that your opinion was actually a fact that was proven by Junghoon, but it also made you happy that you got to spend time with him.

You never stopped thinking about Junghoon after that day. You fell for him. Hard. You were planning on confessing to him for Valentine’s Day because, as far as you could tell, he was single, no one else was in pursuit of him, and there was no harm in trying.

What a lie. There was totally harm in trying. You got him a cute little box of chocolates and waited for him before school in front of the gates. You were going to pull him aside and hand him the box of chocolates then confess, but before you could even do that, you saw Junghoon walk towards the gate hand in hand with another student in your class. You wanted to lie to yourself again and say that they were just friends, but then when you saw them hug and kiss, your world came crashing down. You quickly shuffled your way back to the school building, shoved the chocolates back into your bag, and sat at your desk.

Your eyes were misty for the first half of the day, but as the day progressed, your sadness morphed into humor as a defense mechanism then into cynicism. By the time you got to lunch, you justified to yourself why someone like Junghoon was totally out of your reach.

“Here’s the thing, Hunter,” you started with your lecture the second the rooftop door closed behind you. “Things are beautiful. People are beautiful. The world is beautiful. But! Not everything is beautiful. Not everyone is beautiful. The entire world is not beautiful.”

You plopped down on the ground next to him. He continued eating, you continued talking— lunch as per usual.

“I wonder what it must be like to be beautiful. I imagine those people are always, “oh my God, being beautiful is so hard! My life is so tragic!” and then they’re just sweating sparkles and gold and you’re annoyed with them because living a beautiful life is nothing. Nothing! They don’t have to work for anything! Things just fall into their hands.”

Hunter raised an eyebrow because this was a different rant for once.

“I will never know that feeling because I’m not beautiful,” you explained. “People are attracted to and love beautiful things… And I am not one of them.”

“Y/N, shut up,” Hunter said— he had never, ever said anything during your rants or lectures, but this time was different because the rant was different.

“What? It is true. Beautiful things, beautiful people— no one can resist them. Meanwhile, me? I’m not someone’s first choice, and I’m not really a choice anyone considers because I’m not beautiful or even pretty. I’m just… Okay. I’m mid. I’m aight. Not attractive, just aight.”

“Stop it, Y/N.”

“What’s your deal? Since when do you care about what I talk about? You usually just ignore me, anyway.”

“No, I don’t.”

“See? You don’t care—”

“I do care, Y/N,” Hunter interrupted. “And I don’t ignore you. I always listen to everything you say and stay quiet because I usually agree, but right now? Right now, you’re so wrong.”

“Huh? Wrong about what? Liking beautiful things? Do you not like beautiful things?”

“I do, but that’s not what I’m taking about. You’re not just okay, you’re not mid… I’d say you’re aight, but you’re beautiful, too.”

You stared at Hunter for a solid minute before bursting out laughing. He had such a serious look on his face, and he made the funniest joke with that straight face of his. “That’s a funny joke, Hunter. You should be a comedian,” you said while wiping tears from your eyes.

Hunter’s face didn’t even flinch, causing you to laugh all over again. His stone face was incredible. You continued to laugh, but he still didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile because he wasn’t joking.

“Hunter, you don’t have to lie to make me laugh and feel better, but thanks for that. I needed it.”

“I wasn’t lying.”

“Wait, but wasn’t the joke the fact that it’s a lie? See, wait. Let me look it up…” You took your phone out and typed quickly pulling up the definition of the word. “Okay, it says here that beautiful means “pleasing the senses or mind aesthetically, and of a very high standard,” and that definition is definitely not—”

Hunter couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed your wrist and moved your phone away from your face before pressing his lips firmly against yours. Your eyes went wide, only for you to squeeze your eyes shut when you felt Hunter’s other hand move to the back of your head and hold you gently, his lips leaving an additional kiss, then two, then more until your phone slipped out of your hand. You were completely flabbergasted when he finally stopped and moved back, your eyes staring into his.

“W-wh-what…?” For once, you had no words.

“Now you listen, and let me talk,” he said gently. “Originally, I let you come up here because I didn’t want to lose the access to the roof. I was slightly annoyed at first because I wanted to eat my lunch in peace, but every day, you come up here with something new to talk about, and I’m always intrigued and entertained.”

“I had no—”

“Shut up, I’m not done,” Hunter held a finger to your lips. “I like your company, Y/N, and I like you, so it kills me to hear you say those kinds of things about yourself. So, stop it.”

You stared at Hunter, eyes wide, jaw dropped. 

“I always care about everything you say and think and do, Y/N. If I didn’t, I would have made you stop talking like I did today.”

Hunter let go of your hand and moved away from you while you were still shellshocked. Your mind was blank for once, until a tiny intrusive thought entered your head.

“I have a question,” you told him.

“What is it?”

“So, if I say things you don’t agree with, will you make me stop talking?”

“Yes.”

“Would you make me stop talking the way you did just now?”

Hunter took a second to process the question before going hot red in the face. He let out a couple of empty noises before looking away from you, steam literally rising from the top of his head because of how embarrassed he was. You had to stifle a laugh as you watched him react to your genuine inquiry.

“Love isn’t a choice,” you teased him. “You only like me because you spend so much time with me.”

“Y/N—”

“You just don’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day.”

“I swear to God—”

“You just want me to give you a box—”

Just as he said, Hunter shut you up, and he shut you up by kissing you again. You couldn’t help but giggle as his soft lips encompassed yours and his fingers tickled your neck and cheek. You kissed him back, suppressing the urge to smile in between each one. It was only when the bell rang that the two of you separated, a slow exhale leaving your lips as he moved away. A small smile settled on your face as Hunter looked away shyly, his face a light shade of pink. You stood up and helped him clean up before heading to the rooftop doors.

“I’ll head down first,” you told him.

Just as you took one step down, you felt him grab your wrist. You turned to look at him, his face still pink, and his eyes barely able to maintain contact with yours.

“Yeah?”

“Um… You said something about a box…”

“What, you want me to give you a box of chocolates?” you asked with a snicker.

“I wouldn’t be opposed…” he mumbled.

“Okay, I’ll give you the box… Tomorrow.”

You shuffled down the stairs while laughing to yourself, and as you turned to take the second set of stairs down, you looked up to see Hunter with a huge grin on his face. He, like you, couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.

[https-harlow]

Jack Harlow

Series

Dad Jack

Concepts

All Individual Fics

All of my Jack Harlow Fics (oldest to newest)

Saturday Night Live

The reader is a very famous actress, has been since they were a child. Jack has been very open about his crush. The reader ends up hosting Saturday Night Live the same week Jack is the musical guest.

An Evening I Will Not Forget Part 2

Jack and the reader had been friends as long as they could remember, eventually turning into boyfriend and girlfriend in high school. Until several years later when their relationship fell apart and they had to continue their lives without each other.

Missed You

Jack shows up at your house at 2am because he missed you.

Proposal

Jack takes reader on a helicopter ride in Kentucky or Miami and he proposes afterword it’s at night by the way and urban and everyone set the scene for when they land back at the helipad.

Protect You

Jack wants to keep you and him a secret to protect you and him from the media but it lowkey hurts u. Like let’s say you guys are walking back to ur hotel one night and then he sees paparazzi and instantly drops your hand and your trying to not let it bother u but when he looks up at you after dropping ur hand you have tears in your eyes and he feels bad.

Settle Down

Jack wants to settle down, but you think he should continue to focus on his career.

Mini-Me

Paisley’s first dance recital, where you find out that she truly is a mini-Jack, and Jack, you, Paisley, and Olive start a new tradition.

The Early Years

You met Urban in middle school, which eventually led you to meeting Jack in high school. Urban saw how much you two liked each other before either you or Jack did, eventually setting you two up. Causing you to realize your feelings and make your relationship official shortly after.

Paisley's First Word

You and Jack had been trying to get Paisley to say mama or dada as her first word, but when Urban returns from a trip her first word isn’t what any of you expected.

Pumpkin Patch

Taking Paisley and Olive to a pumpkin patch.

Taking Care Of You

All Jack wants to do while you’re pregnant with your first daughter, Paisley, is take care of you even if it’s something small like putting lotion on your belly. You and Jack also start to celebrate Jack’s birthday with your tradition of giving each other gifts at midnight, though this time it is a matching gift. Jack can’t sleep and ends up talking to Paisley while you’re asleep.

Gentle

Paisley watches how Jack interacts with you during your pregnancy with Olive, and with Paisley being Jack’s mini me, it only makes sense that she copies him.

After Party

Jack and the reader would rather spend the after party alone then with others.

Keeping Secrets Part 2

You decide to tell Urban about your relationship with Jack, but he doesn’t respond in the way you thought he would.

Halloween Costumes

Paisley and Olive pick out their Halloween costumes, along with yours, Jack’s, Urban’s, and Clay’s.

That's Not My Daddy

Paisley and Olive see Jack in his wigs for Saturday Night Live for the first time and Olive refuses to believe it is him.

I'm Not Jealous, Just Protective

You and Jack go out to a club when a guy approaches you to hit on you and Jack gets jealous.

I Love You Because

You are struggling after giving birth to your second daughter Olive between feeling overwhelmed and dealing with the changes that happened to your body during your pregnancies, while also comparing yourself to some of the girls in Jack’s music videos. Jack reassures you that he loves everything about you.

Christmas Date

Knowing Christmas was your favorite holiday, Jack planned a Christmas inspired day for the two of you, decorating your Christmas Tree, watching Christmas movies, looking at Christmas lights, wanting to make your first Christmas as a couple and living together special, then on Christmas you exchange gifts.

Meeting Santa

You and Jack take Paisley and Olive to meet Santa.

Christmas Eve

How you and Jack spend Christmas Eve with Paisley and Olive.

Christmas Morning

Christmas morning with the family and you and Jack, with Clays help, surprise Paisley and Olive with a special present.

Elf Emergency

Olive accidentally touches the Elf on a shelf and Paisley is afraid the elf is going to lose its magic.

24 Hours With Jack Harlow

Based off the Vogue 24 Hours With Jack Harlow video.

New Sibling Reactions

You and Jack tell Paisley and Olive about their new sibling, except Olive isn’t ready to be a big sister.

Touring & Pregnancy Tests

Towards the end of the Come Home The Kids Miss You tour, you and Jack find out you’re pregnant with baby number 3.

Aren't You Nervous?

How you and Jack find out you are pregnant with your first born, Paisley.

Memories

You and Jack take Paisley and Olive to the park you went to a lot while dating, where they ask you questions about your relationship.

Baby Brother Or Baby Sister

You and Jack tell Paisley and Olive if they are getting a baby brother or a baby sister.

Officially Outnumbered

You give birth to your and Jack's third baby. Paisley and Olive meet their little brother.

First Concert

You and Jack take Paisley to the Eras tour, which happens to be their first concert other then watching Jack preform.

Pool Day

You, Jack, Paisley, Olive, and Hayden spend a day in the pool.

Presence

When you ask what Jack and Urban want for their birthday, they both say they want you.

Trick Or Treat

You and Jack take Paisley, Olive, and Hayden trick or treating.

Christmas Day

You, Jack, Paisley, Olive, and Hayden celebrate Christmas.

10 Years Later

You and Jack felt like your family was complete after four kids, but you start thinking about having a fifth baby.

She's Totally Flirting With You

Jack gets hit on by a waitress, though he thinks she's just being nice, Paisley and Olive come to your defense to convince Jack she's flirting with him.

First Time Parents (Paisley's birth fic)

You give birth to you and Jack's first daughter, Paisley.

We're Doing Something Right

You and Jack catch Paisley and Olive trying to make sure Hayden falls asleep.

It Was Always You

Despite Jack’s marriage to Amber, you and Jack make confessions to each other that you probably shouldn’t.

Cheered Up

After Gazebo festival is cancelled, you find a way to cheer Jack up.

Met Gala 2024

You and Jack attend the Met Gala, except not together, technically.

We're Going To Atlanta

You find out if you were accepted to a college in Georgia, something that needed to happen for your parents to let you move to Atlanta with Jack after high school.

Bonnie & Clyde - A Scalvo Fic

You and Scalvo are partners in crime, but what happens when a robbery doesn’t go as planned?

By My Side

Despite his team's wishes, Jack has no desire to portray being single to his audience early on in his career. He wants you and your future daughter to be by his side through every step. You come in to meet his team, and bond with Neelam.

Insta AU’s

Date Night

My Girl

Paisley’s Pregnancy & Birth Announcement 

Olive’s Pregnancy & Birth Announcement

Christmas Trees & Gingerbread Houses

Valentine’s Day

Baby #3 Pregnancy Announcement

[cicimunson]

Christmas

Author's Note: My comeback is fierce, this fic is long af compared to what I usually write. I couldn't come up with a name. don't judge. Also this is the first time I've kind of drifted back and forth between POVS but I'll try to make it obvious. Steve's POV is in italics.

Story Summary: You and Steve have disliked each other since high school, but after your car breaks down in front of his house on Christmas Eve, the two of you...well, read the story.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Female Reader, OC Vinny the mechanic, nameless family members of the reader.

Warnings: Steve is drinking a bit but NOT drunk, Steve and reader are mean af to each other, angst, bit of fluff, sexual situations included: rough sex, bareback, biting, mentions of blood, spanking, face slapping, choking, degradation, praise, fingering, orgasm denial, too many orgasms, I think that's all but please let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count 7.5k+

Conclusion is up

Steve should be used to being alone for the holidays.

Birthdays, Halloween, even Christmas Eve now. It's not like his parents didn't call and apologize for not being there. It's not like they didn't put overpriced gifts under the tree to make up for it before they left. It's not like Steve was hurt or even surprised when they took off for a tropical vacation five days before Christmas without him.

He tried to convince himself he didn't care as he sat on the couch across from the fireplace, sipping a beer. He told himself he chose to be alone tonight. Nancy had invited him over for Christmas dinner but the thought of seeing the Wheeler family in matching sweaters and all happy like a real family had no appeal to him. The thought of Nancy and Jonathan exchanging gifts and kisses really had no appeal to him.

He's nursing his second beer when there's a knock at the door. He almost thinks he imagined it, it's nearly ten p.m. Surely no carolers are out this late. The knocking comes again, louder this time, and he peels himself off the couch to answer.

He opens the door and frowns.

"Shit, shit, piece of shit!" You bang on your steering wheel in frustration. Your clunker of a car always gives out at the worst times. You're not dressed for the cold weather, having chosen to wear a tight, short red dress to your office Christmas party and your jacket wasn't big enough to keep you warm for the mile walk to your place. 

You get out of your car and kick the door shut, trudging through the snow to the first house you see. You go up to the door and knock, shivering as you rub your arms trying to keep warm. No one answers but you see lights inside and a car in the drive, so you knock again.

The door opens and you frown.

"Wrong house, Y/N?" Steve asks, crossing his arms across his chest. No way you showed up on his doorstep on Christmas Eve intentionally, especially not with the way you're dressed. He glances down at your exposed legs, your dress barely covering half your thighs. Surely you weren't this dumb, coming out in the cold in a dress so short and tight he could see your nipples poking through.

You explain through chattering teeth. "M-m-my car broke down in front of y-your house."

Steve sighs. "You need to call someone?"

You nod, shivering as the wind picks up.

He steps aside and motions for you to come in.

"T-thank you."

He nods curtly. "Phone's in the kitchen. To your left."

You go into the kitchen, a little surprised that all that's sitting out is a half-eaten box of pizza. You would have expected the Harringtons to have a whole feast for Christmas.

You call for a tow truck, but of course Vinny says he's gonna be a few hours. The holidays, you can't be mad.

You go back into the living room.

"Get squared away?" Steve asks, tossing another log on the fire.

"I got Vinny coming to tow my car and drop me off at home, said he'd try to be here by midnight."

"Long wait."

"It's Christmas, I expected it. Thanks for letting me use your phone." You head for the door.

"You're gonna wait two hours in the cold?" Steve asks in disbelief.

"I didn’t think-"

"Sit down, dummy, and warm up by the fire."

"I'm fine. I don't want to bother -"

"I said sit." He snaps. "I'm not gonna let you freeze to death, no matter how much we might dislike each other."

You sigh. He's right. As much as you want to get away from him, you'd turn into an ice block sitting outside in your car. Instead you sit in front of the fire, holding out your hands to the flames to warm yourself.

"Thank you." You say softly.

He flops back down on the couch and continues nursing his beer.

You both sit in awkward silence for a bit. Finally you ask: "Your parents already in bed?"

He snorts. "Not here. Went to Florida to beat the cold."

"So you're alone on Christmas Eve?"

He gives you a withering look.

"Sorry. Just making conversation."

"Yeah, we don't have to exchange pleasantries and shit." He shakes his head and sips his beer.

You frown at him and turn back to the fireplace.

"Sit back a little dummy, you'll catch that dress on fire."

I fucking hate him.

"Don't call me that."

"Then don't do dumb shit." He retorts. "I'm not tripping over myself to put you out when you start smoking."

"I wouldn't expect you to do shit for me, Harrington." You snap. "I'm surprised you even let me use your phone."

"You and me both."

"Sorry I'm not throwing myself at your feet with gratitude!"

"Can you shut up? You're killing what little buzz I had going." He snaps.

You both fall silent. You sigh. Your feud with Steve had been going on since freshman year when the two of you were assigned to work together for a science project that was twenty percent of your grade.

Steve hadn't met up with you a single time to work on it. You'd busted your ass on the project and refused to put his name on it with yours. Steve failed the class and had loathed you ever since.

Steve stares at the fire, pretending you aren't sitting in front of it. You two had been in an intense feud since freshman year when he'd overhead you complaining about being partnered with him. He knew he wasn't smart like you, but hearing you and your friends mock him for his low grades had actually hurt his feelings. He had avoided you, taking a failing grade on the assignment so that he didn't have to deal with you judging him and putting him down.

You sigh again, frustrated beyond belief as to how your night is turning out. The office party had been lame, your coworkers sloppy drunk and loud. You didn't want to spend Christmas Eve alone but halfway through the party you'd made up an excuse and left.

"Why are you dressed like that anyways? It's freezing outside. You didn't think to at least wear tights?" He suddenly scolds you.

He's more annoyed with himself than with you if he's being honest. Your body looked amazing in your dress and the twitch he'd felt in his pants when he had opened the front door and saw you standing there had him feeling frustrated.

"I forgot to wear tights. We can't all be as smart as you, Steve." Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and Steve scowls. There you go, making quips about his intelligence.

"For someone that graduated high school with honors, you really are a dumbass." He retorts. "You'd risk freezing to death just to look hot?"

You blink up at him, surprised. "I look hot?"

Steve blushes slightly, realizing what he let slip. "As hot as someone like you could look, which isn't much."

Your face falls and Steve immediately feels guilty. You rise to your feet.

"I think I'll take my chances waiting in my car."

"Don't be stupid." He starts to protest, but you're heading for the door. "Y/N, come on, I didn't mean it."

You ignore him and slam the door behind you.

Steve contemplates going after you, dragging you back inside. Your scrap of a dress wasn't going to help you against the cold at all. 

Not my problem. He tells himself.

He sips his beer and sighs, the loneliness creeping back up to taunt him. He finds his thoughts turning back to you, you and that tight fucking dress. He palms himself without even realizing it. What the hell were you doing showing up at his house in the middle of the night dressed like that? And then you chose to be rude after he was gracious enough to let you come inside?

He stands up and grabs his coat, hellbent on giving you a piece of his mind.

You make your way back to your car, yanking on the door handle. It doesn't open. You fight the urge to scream when you realize you locked your keys inside.

Fantastic. Fucking fantastic.

You wrap your arms around yourself and try to stop shivering, cursing yourself for dressing so skimpy tonight.

I hope I freeze and they charge that asshole for contributing to my death. Smug pretty bastard.

You kick your wheel in frustration.

Who the hell does he think he is, talking to me like that? And he chose to be rude when I was trying to be gracious?

Your temper flares. You start to march back to his front door, hellbent on giving him a piece of your mind.

To your surprise, the door flings open and Steve comes charging out of his house. You both start speaking at the same time.

"Listen here you prick-"

"Alright dummy, listen up-"

You both stop and glare at each other, tension rising.

I want to hit him. I should smack him in the damn mouth. That fucking mouth of his.

You stare each other down, chests heaving, angry expressions, both waiting for the other to do something. To yell, to swing, anything. You tense up, expecting him to lash out at any second. Whatever he can dish out, you're ready for it.

What you aren't ready for, however, is Steve Harrington jerking you to him by your thin jacket and crashing his lips into yours.

You're stunned. He's kissing you roughly, teeth biting your bottom lip, tongue sweeping inside before you can react. You bring up your hands to his chest and push him away, hard.

Steve stumbles back a step, eyes widening. 

"Y/N, I-"

"What the fuck, Harrington?"

Has he lost his mind? Have I lost mine?

He looks just as shocked as you do, mouth hanging open, hand on his chest.

You realize you can't stop staring at his lips.

I want more. I want to taste him again.

You close off the space between you and fist his jacket, jerking him downward. 

"What the fuck, Harrington." You repeat, but there's no malice behind your words.

He stares down at you, his expression darkening. You reach a hand up and tangle it in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging slightly.

He groans and reclaims your mouth. The kiss isn't as rough this time, but still hard and frantic, almost needy. He starts tugging you towards the house, almost slipping on a patch of ice, his lips never leaving yours.

He pulls you inside and slams the door, yanking your coat off your shoulders. He walks you backwards toward the fireplace as his tongue slips into your mouth and he snags a blanket off the back of the couch.

Steve breaks the kiss long enough to spread the blanket out in front of the fire, then yanks you flush against him.

You gasp as his hands reach under your dress. He grazes his fingers lightly over your clothed pussy, then slips his thumbs in your waistband and snatches your panties down, dropping to his knees.

His arm locks around your waist and he pulls you to the floor, laying you down on the blanket before pushing your dress up.

He unzips his pants and shoves them down to his knees with his underwear, then wraps his hands around your thighs and yanks you to him.

"Clean?" He asks, looking feral.

You nod, your words stuck in your throat.

"Safe?'

You nod again.

He holds out his hand in front of you.

"Spit."

You spit in his open palm.

Steve spits too, then coats his cock with your mixed saliva.

He lines up with you and pushes inside.

You cry out. You were a little wet from kissing and the spit helps, but it's not nearly enough to prepare you to accommodate his length.

He chuckles as you groan. "Too much for you, dummy? You can always tap out."

"Are you even in yet?" You retort and Steve lands a light slap on your cheek.

"You're moaning like a whore so you must be feeling something." He taunts, pushing in deeper.

"All I'm feeling is disgust that I'm letting you between my legs."

"Of course you are, you're such a pretty fucking whore, aren't you?" He reaches between the two of you and rubs your clit.

You moan again, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Steve leans down and kisses you roughly, then peppers bruising kisses down your jaw. He bites your neck and you yelp, shoving his face away.

"Don't leave marks on me."

"I'm do what the fuck I want." He growls, yanking your dress over your head. "No bra?"

You blush, crossing your arms over your chest, which makes no sense because he's already inside you but you do it anyway.

Steve laughs mockingly, tugging your arms away. He bites down on you tit so hard you yelp, grabbing his hair and yanking.

"Fucking prick!" You hiss.

He bites down again, his hand returning to your clit. 

"Steve, fuck!" You arch your hips as he bottoms out in you and starts fucking you hard.

"Take it. Take this dick." He groans.

"Not much to take-"

He shoves his fingers in his mouth and makes you gag.

"Shut the fuck up." He snarls. "Or I'll choke you with my cock next."

You bite his hand and it only seems to excite him, he moans and sticks his fingers further down your throat. You gag again and he chuckles.

"Dummy can't even suck fingers properly."

 You bite again, harder this time and he snatches his hand from your mouth to smack you.

"Bite me again and I swear I'll bite back till you bleed." He warns.

You squirm, his words having the opposite effect he intended. He notices and cocks an eyebrow.

"Thought you didn't like being bitten."

"I said no marks. Visible ones."

"Then fucking come here." He slips out and rocks backwards on his ass, then yanks you so that you're sitting in his lap straddling him, before shoving himself back inside you and biting your shoulder.

"Bleed for me." He groans into your skin. 

"Fuck, Steve." You whisper, squeezing him tighter with your thighs as you start to ride.

He bites and laps with his tongue at your shoulders, your tits, anywhere he knows you can cover up. You're gonna be a walking bruise tomorrow but the pain is so delicious you wouldn't dream of telling him to stop.

"I'm so close." You whisper.

"Already?" He teases. "Come on dummy, show me how you cum."

"Stop calling me names, you fucking prick!" You choke out, your body starting to tighten with anticipation of what's building up inside you.

"Whore. Slut. Bitch." He cups your chin and forces you to look at him. "Fucking dummy."

You cum hard, soaking his cock. You wail and bite down on his neck, your whole body spasming as you ride out your orgasm. It's so intense you almost fall off his lap, and Steve digs his fingers into your waist to hold you steady.

Steve makes a disapproving sound. "Didn't last long, did you? And look at the mess you made." He gestures to his cock. "So naughty."

You whine, overstimulated now that you've cum. He chuckles and rolls his hips, hitting that sweet spot inside you again.

"Steve, oh God."

"Knew you'd break first. Going soft on me now that I made you cum, slut?"

You slap him and he grins. "I wouldn't go soft for you if you begged me." You hiss.

"We'll see about that."

He picks up the pace, determined to make you cum again, to see you fall apart on his cock one more time. He'd never tell you, but you look so beautiful right now, skin flushed and glistening with sweat, lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes dark and pupils blown with lust. You were stunning, he realized. How he hadn't noticed it before tonight, he had no idea.

You moan as Steve locks his arms around your waist, lifting his hips and fucking himself up into you. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, the expression on his face practically feral as he looks up at you. He was gorgeous like this, you couldn't deny it. 

Your eyes stayed glued to his mouth, wanting to bite his bottom lip yourself. Wanting to kiss him until you were both breathless and whimpering.

Steve locks eyes with you. He smirks, but there's no malice behind it. He shifts and rolls you onto your back, driving his cock deep.

Your breath hitches. His hand loops under your armpits and grip your shoulders, his chest pressed against your tits as he thrusts harder, faster, groaning and grunting. At one point you think he moans your name but surely you misheard him.

Steve's trying to hold off, trying not to cum just yet even though you already got off, but the way you're looking at him, the way you clench around him, he's not going to be able to hold out much longer. You're perfect, so goddamn perfect, your tits, your lips, the way you're spreading your legs so eagerly for him.

"Baby…" He moans and your eyes widen. "Y/N, baby."

"So good." You whisper. "You feel so good, Steve."

He kisses you, still rough and demanding, but there's an urgency underneath. He needs to kiss you, needs to suck your tongue and catch your breathy sighs in his mouth.

"I'm close again." You groan, your body tightening once more, almost to the point of pain.

"Cum for me." He mumbles, his tone almost pleading. "Soak me again, Y/N, come on, come on, baby."

You cry out his name, that coil that was winding up so tightly inside you finally snapping and releasing. Steve groans as your nails sink into his back, hoping it leaves marks that sting for days, so when he jerks off thinking about this night he'll still be able to feel some of the pain.

"Steve! Fuck! Fuck!" You gasp, rocking your hips against him frantically.

"That's it baby, let me hear you."

You let out a garbled sound that's something between a scream and sob, your body slumping back on the blanket.

Steve stops pumping. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, keep going. I'm good." You reach up and push his hair off his forehead.

"You sure?"

"Who's going soft now, Stevie?" You tease.

"You're the one laying there all fucked out on my dick." He retorts, suppressing a smile.

You clench around him and his breath catches.

"Don't think just because I need a minute to recuperate that I can't keep rocking your world, Harrington."

"Yeah?" He thrusts hard, making you whimper. Your pussy is so overstimulated that even pleasure hurts, but you aren't gonna give him the satisfaction of knowing he's made you so fucking achy and sore.

You clench again and he grunts, slapping your tit.

"Oh, you ass." You groan, your nipple stinging from the blow.

His hand snakes around your throat. "Didn't we agree, no more name-calling?"

"I didn't agree to anything. You're still a prick."

"And you're still a dumb slut."

"You talk too much."

His hand around your throat tightens. "So do you. But I know how to shut you up."

He keeps his grip around your neck as he resumes fucking you, long, deep, strokes that have you wet and throbbing all over again.

He pulls out and flips you on your stomach, barely giving you time to scramble to your hands and knees before he's slamming back inside you, his hand coming down hard on your ass.

"Take this dick." He groans. "Fuck, Y/N, take it."

You fuck yourself back on his cock, crying out as his slaps your ass again, the sting almost making you tear up.

"Damn it, that hurts." You groan.

"Shut up and take it." He hits you again and again, his strokes becoming more frantic and sloppy.

You grit your teeth and take his blows as long as you can, but one particular slap catches you so roughly your knees buckle.

"Steve, no more!" You whimper.

He stops, his hands coming up to grab your waist and pull you back further on him.

"I'm gonna cum." He grunts. "Gonna fill you up, slut."

"Oh fuck."

"Beg for it."

You aren't sure you heard him right. 

"What?"

"Beg for to cum in you."

"Oh, fuck off." You retort.

He jerks your hair so hard your hands come out from under you. You land face first on the blanket, turning your head to the side to breathe. You try to lift back up but Steve pushes on your back, keeping you pinned.

"Beg, dummy, if you even know how."

"Fuck you."

"I'll hold off, Y/N. I'll fuck you for hours until you're raw and begging me to stop, don't think I can't. Now, beg me."

You have no doubt he can do it. And as much as you love pissing him off and defying him, your sore pussy can't handle much more. You hold off a few more minutes, then finally give in.

"Cum in me." You whisper.

"Louder, don't think you're gonna get away with that. And I didn't hear please."

"Please cum in me."

"Again." He speeds up and you cry out, your body starting to tighten up once more.

"Steve! Please!"

He reaches under you and rubs your clit. 

"No, fuck, Steve, I can't!"

"You can and you will. Now, beg!"

"Cum in me, fuck, please, Steve, cum in me!"

"You first." He groans. "Again, Y/N."

"I can't, oh fuck, oh please." You babble, trying to push his hand away from your clit.

He keeps rubbing, ignoring your nails digging into his wrist.

"One more time, baby, you can do it. Cum pretty for me, yeah? Make me happy."

Oh fuck, not praise.

Of course he waited till the end to start praising you. Steve wasn't an idiot, he saw the way you lit up in school when you got an award, had a teacher call you out by name for doing a good job. Of course you had praise kink.

"Come on pretty girl, you've done so good for me. Cum for me, you've earned it. Let go."

You sob his name, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body convulses. You lose your balance on your knees but Steve holds you against him easily, grunting loudly as he pumps his load into you.

Rope after rope shoots off inside you and he wonders briefly if he'll ever stop cumming, because fuck, he hasn't exploded like this since he was a teenager.

After a minute or two he gently eases himself out of you and lays by your side. Normally when he's fucked a girl he'll hold her close and tell her how good she was, how sweet and perfect she is, but with you he isn't sure if he should. You probably wouldn't like it, right?

You can barely hold your eyes open. You'd been up all day as it was and now Steve has fucked you so good that all your muscles ached. You will yourself to get up and start hunting for your clothes, but you can't summon the strength to lift your head, much less anything else.

You hear Steve ask you something, hell, probably telling you to get out of his house, but you fall asleep before you can respond.

Steve asks again if you're okay, frowning when you don't answer. Are you seriously ignoring him right now, after what just happened? He sits up and looks at you.

Oh. You're asleep. He automatically grabs another blanket and covers your body, debating on what to do. Should he wake you so you can leave? Carry you his bedroom and let you sleep? Leave you here by the fire and go sleep in his room alone?

He's still weighing his options when there's a knock at the door. He glances at the clock. Little after midnight, must be the tow guy.

He tugs on his pants and answers the door.

"Y/N here?"

"She's asleep. I don't know if-"

"I told her I'd tow her car and give her a ride."

"Right, um, I don't know where her keys are or-"

"She locked them in her car. She does every time it breaks down."

Steve frowns. "Her car breaks down a lot?"

"At least once a month. I keep telling her she needs a new battery."

"Can't you replace it?"

He shrugs. "She says no. None of my business why, but I figure it's a little out of her price range."

Steve glances behind him to where you're sleeping. Even resting you look worried, the frown lines between your eyes furrowed and your jaw slightly clenched.

"Can you just fix it and bill me for it?"

"Sure, but tomorrow's Christmas and I-"

"I'll pay double. And throw in a big tip for your trouble."

Vinny hesitates, then nods. "Y'all swing by around noon tomorrow, I'll have it ready for her."

"Thank you."

"No problem, thank you. Have a good night."

Steve nods and shuts the door. He adds another log to the fire, tiptoeing so he doesn't wake you. After a minute of debate he slides under the blanket beside you.

He's asleep within minutes.

You open your eyes and stretch, sitting up to look around. You briefly panic when you don't recognize your surroundings, almost jumping out of your skin when you notice the sleeping form beside you.

Oh God. I fucked Steve Harrington last night.

You groan out loud and he stirs, propping up on his elbow.

"Hi."

"Uh, hi."

"How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks. You?"

"Good."

The awkwardness between you can't be looked over, and to your surprise, a giggle escapes your mouth. Steve gives you an amused expression, letting out a chuckle himself.

You realize the sun is up. "Oh fuck, my car!"

"It's fine. The tow guy was smart enough to come to the door, he said we can pick your car up at noon."

"He's gonna fix it on Christmas? Must be feeling the holiday spirit."

"Would you like coffee? Or a shower?" Steve quickly changes the subject.

"Oh, um, yeah, a shower would be great, thanks."

You stand up, wrapping the blanket around you and scooping up your panties and dress from their discarded spots on the floor. Steve leads you to the bathroom, explains which one is hot water, and leaves you to it.

You're both relieved and disappointed that he didn't ask to join you. You wash quickly, wincing when your hands run over your chest and between your legs.

You wipe the mirror off when you step out of the tub, grimacing when you see yourself. The bites and hickeys on your shoulders and tits are red and purple, one small bite on your neck. Your ass is bruised too, you observe as you do a complete turn, and your hips and waist have fingerprint marks.

What a fucking night.

You dress and follow the smell of coffee to the kitchen. Steve pours you a cup and pushes it across the table to you as you sit down. The wince as your ass touches the seat doesn't go unnoticed by Steve, and he makes no effort to hide the smugness on his face.

"Sorry there's no cream or sugar. Haven't shopped in a bit. If you're hungry I might could fry an egg but-"

"I don't usually eat in the mornings. But thanks." You reply, sipping your coffee. You try not to gag at the strong bitter flavor.

"You slept a long time. We gotta pick up your car in just a bit."

"You don't mind giving me a ride?"

"You didn't mind giving me one." He quips without thinking.

You frown slightly.

"Sorry. That was crass."

"Yeah."

There's an awkward silence for a bit, you struggling to choke down Steve's coffee, him trying to come up with something to say. 

"Should, uh, should we talk about last night?" He finally asks.

"I don't think there's anything that needs to be said, do you?"

"I mean-"

"It was fun. We had fun."

"Yeah, sure." He agrees quickly.

More awkward silence. Steve leaves the room and comes back fully dressed, thank God. You'd been having a hard time not staring at his bare chest sprinkled with your bites marks and scratches.

"You ready to go?"

"Mhmm, sure."

You follow Steve to his car. He opens the passenger door and helps you inside, ever the gentleman.

He gets in the driver's seat.

"Vinny's shop is-"

"I know where it is."

He starts the car and you chuckle lightly as Christmas music starts playing softly through the speakers. Of course Steve Harrington likes Christmas music.

You sit in silence until you pull up in front of the shop. Steve puts the car in park.

"Um, so, thanks for the ride."

"You too." He replies with a cheeky grin.

You blush slightly. "Steve."

"Merry Christmas." He says simply, reaching across and opening your door.

"You too."

You get out of the car and hurry inside the shop. Vinny greets you warmly and hands you your keys.

"Glad you finally got this clunker fixed, Y/N. I mean don't get me wrong, good for business having repeat customers, but I worried about you being stuck out in the cold in the middle of nowhere. Not safe for a young girl."

"Did you say you fixed my car? As in-"

"Replaced that damn battery."

You fight the urge to panic. "Um, Vinny, I didn't tell you to do that. I can’t afford that!" You were barely scraping by to pay student loans and rent right now. You couldn't afford a new bill.

"Your boyfriend said he was taking care of it. Didn't he tell you?"

"My boyfriend? What are you…Steve??"

"Whoever's house you were at last night. I assumed boyfriend."

"He said he's gonna pay for my car repairs?"

"Sure did, offered double. Now normally I get payment up front, but that family is well off and his mother is well-respected so I know I'll get paid."

"I, uh-"

"Good on you girl, bagging a Harrington. They'll have you driving one of their fancy cars in no time, I'm sure."

You don't respond and Vinny pats your shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Y/N. Now, get outta my shop. I wanna go eat some turkey."

You leave, still absorbing what Vinny had said.

Steve offered to pay for my car repairs? Sure, he can afford it, but why would he do that?

You're lost in thought as you drive home, suddenly realizing you're passing by the Harrington house. You pull to the curb and park, marching up to the door and knocking.

Steve answers, shirtless again, hair still damp from a shower. He frowns when he sees you.

"Don't tell me that your car broke down again?"

"Why would it? It's got a brand-new battery, thanks to you."

"You don't sound happy about it."

"Why would you pay for my car repairs?"

"Well it's a shit car and the tow guy said it keeps dying on you. Why not?"

"You aren't serious."

"It's no big deal. I can afford it and now you won't be stranded anymore. You could have froze to death last night."

"Not the point!"

"Why are you being ungrateful? I did you a favor!"

You sigh. He's right. I sound like such a bitch.

"I'm sorry. It was very sweet. Just very unexpected. I'll pay you back. It may have to be on payments but-"

"Consider it a Christmas present or something. You don't have to pay me back."

"It's a lot of money, Steve."

"Honestly at this point hearing you actually say thank you would be more than enough to repay me."

You force a smile begrudgingly. "Thank you, Steve, truly."

"You're welcome."

You both stand there staring at each other awkwardly.

"Did you, uh, wanna come in?" Steve asks, hating the way his voice sounds almost hopeful.

"Hmm? Oh, no, thanks. I've gotta get home and start cooking. My family has a big dinner on Christmas."

"Oh, well, have a good time with your family." Steve replies.

You realize that he probably has no Christmas plans and mentally kick yourself for bringing up yours.

"See ya." Steve says with a little wave.

You turn to leave. Invite him to dinner, it's the least you can do.

"Do you wanna come?" You blurt.

Steve pauses, hand on the door. "Um, I don't know if that's a good idea. I mean last night was great and all but I think a repeat would be-"

"Wait, what?" You cut him off, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"You asked if I want to cum and I just-"

"Come to Christmas dinner, Steve! I mean do you want to come to dinner!" You blush scarlet and so does he.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I completely misread that." He apologizes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"Sorry, sorry." He repeats. "Uh, what were you saying about Christmas dinner?"

"I was asking if you wanna come- would you like to have Christmas dinner with me and my family?"

"Oh, uh, that's sweet of you, but-"

"Think of it as a thank you for my car. You should join us, really."

"You sure?"

"Yes. You know where my parents live, right?"

"Doesn't everybody know where everybody lives in this town?"

"Good point. We usually eat around five, if you decide to join us."

"Okay. Thanks." He starts to shut the door.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You close off the space between you and peck his cheek. "I really hope you'll show."

Steve watches you hurry back to your car, his hand drifting up to touch his face. Your lips had been cold, so why was warmth spreading from his cheek through his body?

That evening you're surrounded by family and friends, helping serve food and chase the kids away from the desserts.

You're so busy you don't even hear the doorbell ring. Your uncle calls out in a booming voice from the living room.

"Y/N, a boy's here for you!"

You swat away a little hand trying to stick dirty fingers in a pie and hurry out of the kitchen.

Steve is standing by the door, holding a poinsettia plant and a bottle of wine. His red and green sweater is hideous and bright, making you giggle softly.

"Hi, Steve."

"Hi. You said five, right?"

"I did. Come on in."

You introduce him quickly to your hoard of a family who swarm and ask all kinds of questions. Steve is polite and charming, instantly dazzling your aunts with his smile and impressing your uncles with his knowledge of sports. You catch his gaze every so often and offer an apologetic smile, to which he shrugs his shoulders and smiles back.

Dinner is finally ready and everyone gathers around the table. Plates are passed, cups are filled and everyone chatters excitedly. 

Steve bumps your arm with his slightly and leans into your ear. "Your family seems really nice."

"Only in small doses. We're all ready to kill each other by New Year's."

Everyone eats and talks, dessert gets passed, and you manage to wrangle Steve from your family so you two can go for a walk.

As soon as you're outside, you apologize. "I should have warned you that they're so…much. Honestly, I didn't think you'd come."

"You saw my kitchen, you really think I was gonna pass up a free meal in favor of leftover pizza and cheap beer?"

"Good point."

To your surprise, and maybe his too judging from his expression, Steve slips an arm over your shoulders. "Cold." He explains, but honestly he's never felt warmer.

You nod. "Can't wait for the snow to melt away."

"Really? I love it."

"I had you pegged for a summer lover."

Oh for sure, can't beat the heat. But the snow is just something else. Beautiful."

You find yourself smiling up at him. "Yeah. It is."

"Wow, something we agree on." He quips. "I never would have thought."

"I'm sure we agree on a lot of things. Just neither of us would ever want to admit it."

"I know one thing we seemed to agree on."

You blush slightly. "Steve."

"I'm just saying, we were definitely in agreement last night."

"Were we? I seem to recall a lot of bickering and name calling." You tease.

"Foreplay, baby." He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh.

"You're an idiot, Steve Harrington."

He grins. He’d heard those words several times from several people, but for some reason hearing them from you didn’t sting. He could hear the warmth behind them and it made him feel lighter than air.

You two make your way back to your house, the sun starting to go down and the wind picking up.

"You coming back inside?"

"Actually I'm gonna head home before it gets too dark. Tell your family I appreciated their hospitality, truly."

"They certainly liked you."

"Maybe too much. Pretty sure one of your aunts slipped me her number."

"Oh, I'm sure she did."

Steve hesitates, then closes off the space between the two of you and wraps his arms around you.

Maybe he meant it to be a quick friendly hug. Maybe it was a way of thanking you for inviting him to dinner so he wouldn't be alone.

But somewhere in between hugging and pulling apart, his mouth finds yours.

You gasp softly and he cups your cheek, stroking it with his thumb as he gently deepens the kiss, his other hand resting on your lower back.

You moan softly, parting your lips for him, and his tongue sweeps inside, brushing yours.

There's a whoop from the front door and the two of you jump apart, you turning to glare at your nosy cousins who'd stuck their heads outside.

Steve chuckles. "Guess that's my cue. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Steve."

He jogs to his car, hesitating before getting inside. "Hey, Y/N, you got plans after this?"

You shake your head. "No, why?"

"Just thinking, if you get cold tonight, you know where I'll be." He winks and gets in his car.

You watch him drive off before going back inside to your family.

They gush over Steve, how handsome he is, how charming he was. You nod and smile, your mind replaying his words over and over.

If you get cold tonight, you'll know where I'll be.

You make up an excuse and skip out of the family festivities early, driving straight to Steve's.

He's got the door open before you're even all the way up the walk.

"Get in here and lose the clothes." He orders.

"Don't tell me what to do." You retort.

He groans and reaches out, snagging you by the back of the neck. "Shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

"You goddamn brat." He growls, and his lips are on yours and he's slamming the door shut behind you.

Clothes are shed in mere seconds, and then he's got you bent over the couch, slamming into you.

"Couldn't stay away, huh? Such a greedy whore." He taunts.

"I could always leave." You retort, moaning as he drives deeper into you.

"I'll never let you go." He groans, landing a loud slap on your ass, and you know that he's just rambling, saying whatever he can to make himself feel in control, but your heart does a little flip-flop in your chest.

He reaches around and rubs your clit. "Come on whore, cum on my cock."

"Make me." You grunt, rolling your hips frantically. "Come on Steve, make me."

He slaps your ass again, his fingers working your clit furiously. "Cum for me baby, soak me cock, come on, wanna see it, Y/N, fuck, cum." He mumbles, biting down on your shoulder.

"I'm so close." You groan, your body tightening. You grip the arm of the couch, hoping you don't hit the floor when you cum.

"That's it baby, so fucking pretty when you cum, God, so sexy, cum for me." He rambles, lost in how good you feel clenching around him.

Your orgasm hits you so intensely that you choke back sobs. It's like white lightning and pure pleasure and also pain because God, pleasure like this has to be just a little bit painful, doesn’t it? Steve cries out your name, shooting rope after rope inside you, holding you tight against him.

You start to slump but he catches you easily, dropping to the couch and pulling you into his lap.

"I got you pretty girl." He murmurs, his lips touching your temple. "Wore you out, didn't I?"

"Don't sound so smug." You push at his chest playfully. Steve catches your hand and kisses your knuckles, then tucks it back against his chest.

"Ugh, don't be sweet."

He bites your ear. "Shut the fuck up, I'll be sweet if I want to."

"Ew. No." You tease, giggling.

He fists your hair and jerks your hair back, planting a noisy kiss on your lips.

"I'll throw up right here." You roll your eyes and make a gagging noise.

Steve slips a hand between your legs, fingers brushing your over sensitized clit, making you hiss and whimper.

"I could be mean. I could play with your pretty pussy until it's so sore you can't walk tomorrow."

"Please?" You whisper, parting your thighs further for him. You can feel his cock already stirring beneath you.

"Tell me you're my good girl."

"Oh, fuck you."

He pushes a finger inside you. "Tell me. Tell me and I'll pleasure you all night long."

"That's blackmail." You retort, trying not to moan and arch your hips.

"Mhmm. Be my good girl."

He sucks a nipple between his teeth, biting hard.

"Fuck…"

"We can. As soon as you say it." He adds another finger, his thumb pressing on your clit.

You feel yourself getting close again. "Steve, oh fuck yes."

He smirks and starts to pull his hand away.

"Prick." You grab his hand, trying to keep it between your legs.

"Come on, Y/N, admit it. You wanna be my good girl so bad."

"I'll choke first."

"On my cock, maybe." He starts fingering you again. "Say it."

You groan and rub against him, your hips jerking. Steve continues till you're right at the edge of your orgasm, then pulls away once more.

"Steve!"

He kisses you roughly, his fingers moving once more, curling against your g-spot.

Your body aches, the need to cum again so severe it's borderline painful.

"Please!" You whine.

"Tell me."

You bury your head in your shoulder. "I'm your good girl, please, please, I'm your good girl!"

He pulls you so you're straddling him and slips back into you.

"Steve!" You wail, your nails digging into his back.

"That's my good girl, say my name." He growls, his hips snapping upward, teeth against your throat. "Who's fucking you?"

"Steve, oh god."

"Whose good girl are you?"

"Yours, fuck, I'm gonna cum again, Steve, gonna cum!"

He grinds his palm against your clit, making you cry out. You wrap your hand around his wrist, bouncing faster on his cock.

"Cum baby, soak me, soaking my fucking lap." He urges. "Make a mess baby, God, making me such a fucking mess."

You scream. You try to stop but you literally fucking scream as you cum again. You feel a gush of wetness between your legs and can't even stop yelling to see what happened.

You realize Steve is yelling too, his hips flexed off the couch, driving deep inside you as he cums again.

You slump against his chest, whimpering softly. Steve strokes your hair, panting heavily.

A few minutes of silence pass. Your heart rate slows and you catch your breath. Steve is staring at the fireplace, looking lost in thought as he absent-mindedly runs his fingers up and down your back.

"Do you mind if I shower before I leave?"

He shakes his head. "Spend the night."

"I can't. I always meet my cousins for brunch the day after Christmas, family tradition."

He looks disappointed but masks it quickly.  "Oh, nice."

"I mean, I could stay, I'd just have to get up super early so I could run home and change-"

He cuts you off. "Nah, we've had enough fun for one night. Don't worry about it."

His words sting. Enough fun? Wow.

You get off his lap and collect your discarded clothes before disappearing into the bathroom. Once again, Steve doesn't join you. You shower quickly and redress, coming into the living room.

Steve's snoring on the couch, still naked. You toss a blanket over his lap and leave, ignoring the voice in your head that says to wake him up and kiss him goodbye.

Tag list: @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki @cal-is-not-on-branding

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

❄️Welcome everyone!❄️

If you love the winter holidays as much as I do, then this challenge is for you! It’s pretty simple:

The calendar below has a prompt for every day of the month of December. No matter what holiday you celebrate or even if you don’t celebrate one at all, I hope you find one or more that you like! You can submit as many as you'd like (I plan to do one everyday) or as few as you'd like.

All drabbles should be between 300-1000 words. I will be using wordcounter.net to check them all before reblogging!

Please tag this blog @steddieholidaydrabbles when you post. You can also follow the tag steddieholidaydrabbles to keep up with posts.

All submissions should include a rating and any CW or tags that you feel are necessary. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well. It’s not required, but please consider putting Explicit material under a read more. A sample of this may look like: optional title rating: G/T/M/E cw: violence, blood, etc. tags: established relationship, first time, etc.

Because there will be SO many prompts, please try to only post your submission for a prompt ON that day by 11:59 pm EST. Really early or late submissions won’t be ignored, but could easily get missed in the mix of a different prompt on a different day. A reminder of the daily prompt will be posted at 12:01 am EST on the day of the prompt.

Any of the prompts could be holiday related if you wanted them to be, but it's not required!

1st - Open mic night

2nd - Came back wrong

3rd - Mutual pining

4th - Meet-cute at work

5th - FREE SPACE (Domestic fluff)

6th - Cooking together

7th - Hanukkah

8th - Idiots to Lovers

9th - No Upside Down AU

10th - First kiss/First time

11th - Royalty AU

12th - Only one bed

13th - Roadtrip/Vacation

14th - FREE SPACE (Angst with a happy ending)

15th - Time travel

16th - Modern AU

17th - Platonic Stobin

18th - FREE SPACE (Hurt/comfort)

19th - Enemies to lovers

20th - Magic AU

21st - Snow

22nd - Sports AU (players or fans)

23rd - Uncle Wayne adopts Steve

24th - Birthday

25th - Christmas

26th - "Who did this to you?"

27th - Coffee shop/Bookstore/Tattoo AU

28th - Proposal

29th - FREE SPACE (Spicy/Mature or Explicit)

30th and 31st - New Year's Eve/Resolutions

ARTISTS The submission must be made on the day of that prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. The image must be Steddie, Steve, or Eddie focused (with the exception of Platonic Stobin day), though other characters can be included!

Collaborations with writers are encouraged!

Always tag this blog with your submissions so we can see them and reblog them.

If you have questions, message this blog or @steddieas-shegoes.

WARM UP ROUNDS SCHEDULE AND PROMPTS:

Same rules apply (300-1000 words each, must have rating and cw/tags, and tag this blog if you want it reblogged)

August 19th-21st: High School or College AU September 18th-22nd: Fall October 28th-31st: Halloween November 18th-22nd: Bakery AU Warm Up Rounds AO3 Collection

Steddie Holiday Drabbles AO3 Collection  

Week 1 Masterlist Week 2 Masterlist Week 3 Masterlist Week 4 Masterlist

[witchwyfe]

the ugly sweater party | kook friend group

I pairing: platonic kook friend group x female reader, platonic (non-canon) rafe cameron x reader, platonic topper thornton x reader, platonic kelce x reader

I précis: ugly christmas sweater party with your friends!

I word count: 1,125

I content + warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, cursing, mentions of being drunk, mentions of throwing up

On Figure 8, any holiday was an excuse for all the college kids to come home and throw parties. You’d been to ragers the night before Thanksgiving for God’s Sake. You love Christmas time. You and your friends always end up drinking too much eggnog at a party and regretting it the next morning. But your favorite is when someone throws an ugly sweater party. You and your best friends have gone every year since high school, and this year would be no different.

“Alright, no complaining okay? I don’t want a repeat of Halloween.”

“We didn’t give you that hard of a time.” Rafe whines, scowling.

“We didn’t, you did.” Kelce reminds him, nudging his side. 

“Shut up.”

“Anyway,” You cut off their bickering before it can fully start, glaring at the boys. “This year, I picked them out, and—”

“How is that any different, you pick them every year?”

“Because no one else ever offers to pick.” You narrow your eyes. “Remember two years ago when I let Rafe be in charge?” You wonder. 

“It wasn’t that—”

“You wrote merry x-mas on a white t-shirt in sharpie.” You cut him off. “That was so fucking stupid.”

“We didn’t even get top three for best sweater.” Kelce frowns, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Anyway,” You start again. “Imagine if I could speak without getting interrupted. I was going to say that Kelce and I picked them together.” Kelce smiles, moving off the couch so he can sit by you. 

You pull out two large bags, giggling slightly. “Oh-kay,” You say slowly. “Who wants to see?”

You and Kelce share a look, matching grins on your faces. You nod at Kelce, watching as he hands a folded sweater to Rafe and to Topper.

“Santa’s nice little boy?” Topper splutters—incredulous. You and Kelce burst into laughter, leaning against each other.

“Santa’s naughty little boy?” Rafe says, flipping the sweater around and holding it to his chest. 

“You guys can switch if you want,” You manage between laughs. “But Kelce and I thought those would suit you pretty well.”

“Are these baby clothes?” Topper wonders seriously. The writing on the white sweaters does in fact, emulate Christmas onesies that say things like—my first Christmas—Kelce went above and beyond finding the design your own sweater site.

“This sounds so wrong,” Rafe frowns, shaking his head. “That’s fucking messed up.”

Kelce is practically cackling now, laying on the carpet. 

“What do yours look like?” Topper wonders, glaring at you.

“Oh!” You giggle, nudging Kelce again. You pull two more white sweaters out, checking the tags before handing the correct one to Kelce.

You unfold them, unveiling the matching sweaters to Rafe and Topper. Yours says Merry in red cursive, Kelce’s says Christmas in green. 

“They go together!” You say, tone saccharine. “Just like yours do!”

“What the hell?” Rafe complains. “How is that fair?”

“Think of it as payback for the sharpie incident.” You grin, laughing evilly with Kelce. 

“You didn’t want to help pick them out.” Kelce points out. “And we asked. Many times.”

“What was it you said, Top?” You wonder, furrowing your eyebrows. “’I don’t care what they are, just pick them. I don’t have time for this shit.’”

Topper’s face reddens, the sweater falling limply in his lap. 

“We wanted to do those big sweaters, like the two-person ones, but a four person.” Kelce says. “But we decided not to, because we knew y’all would hate that.”

“That would have been hilarious, come on.” You grin, looking to Kelce who nods in agreement.

“Thank you?” Rafe says like it’s a question. “Don’t know if I should be saying thank you for something that alludes to me having an inappropriate relationship with santa.”

“Hey, you said it, not us.”

“Come on guys, we’re gonna be late!” You call up the stairs. The four of you decided to pregame at Topper’s house, since his parents were out of town. 

It ended up being much less of a pregame and much more of a listen to Rafe whine about the sweater he hadn’t even put on yet. You and Kelce had each taken a shot of peppermint schnapps though! In an attempt at Christmas spirit. 

You and Kelce went all out, deciding to match your whole outfits—ripped jeans and Converse—to pair with the sweaters. 

Finally, Rafe and Topper trudge down the stairs, Rafe quite literally dragging his feet, his footsteps reverberating on the staircase.

“Oh, look at that!” You coo exaggeratedly, placing a hand on your heart. “My boys, looking so cute!”

Topper gives you a dirty look, Rafe muttering curses under his breath. Kelce snickers at their obvious disdain, even more so when you share a look with him.

“I’m never forgiving you guys for this,” Rafe declares, looking between you and Kelce. “Just so you know.”

“Oh no,” Kelce feigns a pout. “____, he said he’s not gonna forgive us for this.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe groans, effectively cutting off whatever snarky comment you were preparing to make.

“Okay, whatever, no more complaining.” You announce, giving pointed looks to Rafe and Topper. “You’re so grumpy, Rafe, we just need to get some eggnog in you,” You giggle, happy when a smile—albeit a small one—finally makes its way onto his face.

“Alright boys, get together so I can take a picture!” You giggle, whipping your phone out of your pocket. 

“Get closer together,” You scold. “Rafael, smile for God’s sake.”

“Please, enough with the mom photos, can we please go now?”

“Someone grab my hand, please!” You whine. “I can’t walk without a hand.”

Rafe sighs, holding his hand out for you to take. Topper has his arm around Kelce, trying to guide him to the car.

“____, come on sweetheart, we need to get you in the car.” Rafe says, tugging your arm gently. 

“Want a snack,” You whine again, leaning all of your body weight onto Rafe. “I’m so hungry.”

“If we get into the car, we can go and get something.” 

“By the way,” Kelce is slurring his words as he turns to face you and Rafe. “____ and I are picking the sweaters every year. First place in the ugly sweater competition, baby!” He cheers.

You squeal gleefully, pumping a fist in the air. 

Topper is mid-pushing Kelce into the car when he jerks away, bee-lining for a nearby bush. He’s emptying his stomach, bent over at the waist.

“Aw, Kelcey,” You coo, rushing over to him. Despite your intent to comfort him, the second you’re close enough, you’re throwing up as well. 

“Every fucking year.” Topper sighs, shaking his head.

“Merry Christmas.” Rafe laughs, rubbing your back.

© witchwyfe 2022. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[haikyuupaladin]

Epilepticon Day 2 prompt

Epilepsy awareness month is sandwiched right in between Halloween and Christmas, two of the most widely decorated for holidays (at least in the US). If epilepsy awareness month had traditional decorations, what do you think they should/would be?

[kristinamae093]

Dashing Through the Snow ❄️

Everything else can be found here.

Book/Universe - TRR

Pairing - Liam x F!OC (Kyla)

Summary - A new festival commences at the palace, and the terror twins get creative to ensure their victory. (HCTS AU)

Word Count - 2500

Warnings - two bad words, a lot of fluff, shenanigans.

A/N 1 - I am using the following prompts-

@choicesflashfics prompt number 3, which will appear in bold.

@choicesflashfics holiday prompts numbers 10, 17, 18, 46, and 97, which will appear in blue.

@choicesholidays prompt its tradition, which will also be blue.

@choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt snowball fight.

Please excuse any errors, and thank you in advance for reading and sharing!

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

The palace was alive with activity, as it usually was on a Saturday afternoon, but today was a special day and called for additional hands. What would now be named Winterfest would soon open; a plethora of holiday-themed activities and competitions lay ahead, the most awaited a snowball fight with participation from both nobles and commoners. Despite the snowstorm from the day before, the projected attendance was still substantial.

Constantine banned the unofficial tradition long ago after Liam suffered a harmless injury, but Liam wanted to resurrect the idea. The holidays were near, and Liam saw an opportunity to strengthen the bond with his people and start the new year on a positive foot. 

Liam lingered in the foyer, observing the commotion beyond the window. The elated smiles of the growing crowd mimicked his own, as he anxiously awaited the start of the festival. 

Constantine emerged from the hallway singing, bundled in multiple layers and a thick hat. “Dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open–” 

Liam was a patient man, but could withstand only so much; Constantine had been doing this for weeks. “I swear to God if you sing another damn Christmas carol…” 

“It’s fitting!” Constantine protested. “Seems like someone wants to be on the naughty list this year…” 

“Ha! You want to talk to me about who’s naughty?” Liam snickered. “You’re getting coal this year… No doubt about it.” 

Constantine’s mouth fell open. “Why? Give me three justifiable reasons–” 

“Halloween alone gives me plenty.”  

“You’re not Santa — you may be the king, but that doesn’t mean–” Constantine stopped as Liam arched his brow. “You know what? Forget I said anything…” He nonchalantly grasped Liam’s bicep. “... Have you been working out?”

Before Constantine could respond, Kyla appeared in the doorway. She traded out her usual scrubs for jeans and a coat and let her long, luscious locks flow freely. Liam couldn’t help but admire the pep she held in her step as she bounced over; the smile on her face stretched from ear-to-ear and Liam momentarily swore he was staring directly into the sun. 

“There you are!” Constantine exclaimed. “I hope you’re ready for a day of fun!” 

“Oh, I am.” Kyla beamed. 

“Good! We have a lot to accomplish today.” 

Kyla furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Since I am forbidden from participating, that means I shall live vicariously through you.” 

Kyla’s eyes widened. “Me?” 

“Precisely! Since the Grinch over there believes that my health won’t allow me to toss a snowball.” 

“I stand by that statement,” Liam interjected. “And that’s Mr. Grinch to you.” 

“I have to agree with him, sir…” Kyla timidly spoke, but threw her hands up when Constantine glowered at her. “I’m not the one being a hard ass about it — I just gave my professional opinion.” 

“Hey!” Liam cried, the creases on his forehead duplicating. 

Constantine chuckled. “You’ve got a point there — his rear is solidifying as he ages.” 

“Really…” Liam placed his hands on his hips, glancing back and forth between the pair. 

“Perhaps we should venture outdoors while we await the first contest?” Constantine spoke to Kyla, completely ignoring Liam. “It’s a hill race, but we can explore the vendors in the meantime.”

Kyla’s stomach rumbled. “Does that include food?” 

“As far as the eye can see,” Constantine laughed. “Let’s go find something to munch on and we can discuss our plans…” He quickly cut his eyes over to Liam and smiled brightly, but soon directed his attention back to Kyla and whispered, “Let’s talk elsewhere…” 

Kyla clenched her lips together to conceal her laughter. She nearly broke when she saw the feigned offense etched in Liam’s features, but could tell from the playful glint in his eye that he wasn’t upset — actually, he looked as if he were fighting the crack in his stony facade.

The pair quickly exited, leaving Liam alone in the entryway. He watched them disappear and couldn’t help but grin. However, his father glanced over his shoulder with a distinct glint in his eye that Liam recognized all too well, causing the hair on his neck to stand at attention — he didn’t know what it was, but the terror twins were up to something. 

The day was enjoyable for Kyla; she survived an exhilarating sled race and placed third in an apple bobbing contest with Constantine cheering from the sidelines. The pair bounced around at a steady pace, visiting the multiple booths and sampling the offered delicacies. Liam was scarce as the center of attention, but made it a point to smile and wave whenever he spotted them.

After Kyla made a snowman that resembled the former monarch — much to Constantine’s delight — they retrieved some hot chocolate. Kyla's hands practically froze in the brisk air, but the warmth of the cup soothed her icy fingers as they sat together on a vacated bench.  

Constantine took a swig of his drink and observed the crowd. “It would appear as though the finale starts shortly…” 

“Seems like it…” 

He reached into his pocket and dug out a trinket, handing it out to Kyla. “Take this — it’s your secret weapon.” 

Kyla’s brows furrowed. “... What is that?”

“You know what it is, Kyla.” 

“Okay, but — how is this a weapon? And for what?” 

Constantine snickered. “The last person standing is victorious, and that is going to be you.”

“Me?” Kyla reiterated with wide eyes. 

“Yes, but we have to get creative…” He lowered his voice. “Here’s our plan — Liam will eliminate most of the competition because he’s competitive by nature, so you need to stay hidden until the playing field dwindles.” 

“… Then?” 

“Then you’re going to catch Liam off guard, and victory shall be ours!” 

Kyla’s confusion intensified as she stared at the object in her palm. “But I don’t see how this will –” 

“You know what to do with it, Kyla…” Constantine suddenly stopped. “You don’t have to actually do anything, but act like you intend to…” 

“That seems kind of… mean…” Kyla unsurely answered. “And I still don’t see how–” 

“Just play along — distract him — the rest is taken care of…” 

Before Kyla could respond, static from a microphone peeled through the air. Atop the stage was Liam, wearing a vibrant smile. After the crowd roared for a moment, Liam held up a hand to silence them. He detailed the past traditions that were being honored, as well as his intention to continue the festivities annually, which everyone in attendance was receptive to. He thanked the vendors and the staff for their service, but everyone listening was patiently awaiting the commencement of the last activity. 

“Alright, let’s get to business,” Liam started. “Our last event will be the snowball fight. Remember that today there are no titles — everyone playing is engaging as equals, myself included. In order to win, you must be the last one standing when the bell rings, and that person will receive this plaque, along with substantial bragging rights.” He held up the item and the crowd erupted, eliciting a chuckle from Liam. “I will see you on the west grounds in five minutes.” 

As Liam vacated the stage, Constantine addressed Kyla. “Alright — you’re ready for this.”

“I am?” 

“Yes! Follow my instructions and you’ll be fine.” Constantine reassured while leading Kyla to their destination.

Kyla nodded and before she knew it, they'd arrived. The country came out in full swing; there wasn’t a patch of snow-covered ground that didn’t have eager feet on it. The area was transformed into a makeshift battlefield, including ridges to take shelter and piles of pre-made balls scattered around. 

A loud horn sounded and chaos ensued; most ran to the nearest stockpile to arm themselves while others dropped to the ground to form their ammunition. Within seconds, Kyla’s vision neared completely white as snow sailed through the air. She recalled Constantine’s instructions and hid in a bank away from the brunt of the commotion. She fended off a few people on her venture but made it to her spot safely.

Liam bobbed and weaved the multiple projectiles flying in his direction. He hadn’t had this much fun in years and although the preparations were draining, this moment was worth it. He laughed and regardless of his frozen fingers, he never stopped even for a second. Liam took out anyone who dared to provoke him and as he watched them fall, his confidence skyrocketed. 

As the playing field lessened and only a few contenders remained, he didn’t even try to seek coverage; Liam felt ten feet tall and bulletproof, and nothing was going to stand in his way. Usually, he would have to compete against Drake or Olivia, but the storm impacted their travels; nobody was blocking his path to victory. 

Kyla could tell from the dwindling voices that people were bowing out; she carefully raised her head and saw very few contestants left. Liam stood in the open firing at anyone he saw, and Kyla couldn’t help but smile at the pure elation etched in his features. The moment was short-lived as she watched Liam force yet another participant to concede; she knew her moment was now.

She dashed to the closest shelter near Liam. “Hey!” Kyla exclaimed, just loud enough to grab his attention. “C’mere!” 

Liam jogged over, but kept his ammunition in hand. “Well, well, well…” 

“I come in peace!” Kyla proclaimed but knew it was a lie. 

“You know you’re supposed to be throwing these…” He trailed off while holding up his snowball. 

“I know… But… Well, I have this — thing that I wanted to show you…” 

“Now?” 

“Yep…” Kyla unsurely answered, suddenly realizing how blatantly obvious this ploy was. But Constantine was trusting her, and she was going to see this out. She dug the object he’d given her out of her pocket and held it over their heads. “Look, there’s mistletoe. We have to kiss, it’s the law.” She bluntly stated, but instantly flushed and scolded herself. 

Liam smirked and was tempted to succumb to her — oddly timed request, but it faded as he pieced things together. “So… You’re just running around out here with mistletoe in your pocket?” 

“Don’t you? I thought everyone did.” Kyla nervously chuckled. “You know, Romans believed that mistletoe brought about peace, and they hung them over their doorways for protection.”

“Is that so?” Liam asked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. 

“Yep.” 

“Okay, then.” Liam dismissively agreed. “I’m going to have to take a rain check on your offer, but don’t worry — I’ll be back to collect.” He winked. 

“What–” Kyla stopped as two people appeared behind Liam, poised and ready to strike. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that the first was Trent, the other Bastien. However, Liam instantly thwarted their plan as he sensed their approach. He wasn’t a monarch at that moment — he was a predator. 

Liam spun around in true action hero fashion, hurling projectiles in every direction; despite his blind reaction, he landed a few critical hits. As Bastien and Trent retreated, he launched his ammo with precision, intently focused on his targets. “You think you’re sneaky? HA! Better luck next time!” 

Kyla watched and knew Constantine’s plan must be failing; on instinct, she took matters into her own hands. She quickly crafted some artillery and rose with her arm cocked, expecting Liam’s attention to be on Trent and Bastien but they were gone, and Liam was staring directly at her with a smug grin. 

“If you throw that snowball, you’re declaring war,” Liam emphasized. 

“Kyla!” Constantine yelled from the sideline. “Do it! Finish him!” 

Liam saw Kyla considering it. “Don’t — you will regret it.” 

Kyla’s brow arched. “Is that a threat?” 

“Nope…” Liam snickered. “It’s a promise.” 

Kyla contemplated her options for a moment before she lowered her arm with a sheepish smile. “Sorry… I guess the battlefield got to me for a minute.” 

Liam smiled. “No harm, no foul.” 

“Yeah… Perhaps it’s best if we hugged this one out.” Kyla suggested, trying to buy herself time. 

Liam’s grin faltered. “... Truce?” 

“Truce,” Kyla agreed. She hugged him, taking a moment to bask in his scent, but knew she had to think of something. 

Liam held Kyla closer, relishing in the added warmth from her petite frame, but noticed she was tense. The thought was short-lived as a brisk chill started at the base of his neck, slowly traveling downward and creating icicles in the wake of the snowy path. 

He recoiled away from Kyla, shuddering and dancing to vacate the sensation freezing his skin. Kyla giggled, and that’s when Liam recognized her deception. A newfound sense of determination washed over him at this sudden betrayal but before he could react, an icy projectile landed on his chest, followed by another, then another. 

“Throw the snowball like you mean it!” Constantine hollered. 

Kyla did as instructed and wildly launched snow at Liam; she wasn’t crafting balls anymore but hurled anything in his direction. Liam returned fire, but Kyla proved to be precise. Regardless, he snuck his way back to her. He secured his arms around her waist to subdue her, but Kyla wasn’t willing to go down without a fight; she squirmed and kicked up snow as he lifted her and spun in circles. The sound of Kyla’s infectious laughter filled his heart to the brim, but Liam's deep rumbles joined the symphony of her joy. 

He eventually stopped and Kyla stilled, but Liam kept his hold intact. He stared down at her, admiring the elation sparking behind her doe-like eyes. A force beyond himself took over; he inched closer, never once breaking their intent gaze, but he could see the anticipation coursing through him reflected in Kyla’s vibrant orbs. Just when he was about to make contact the concluding bell sounded, startling them apart. 

The crowd invaded the field again to congratulate those remaining, and Liam made a small statement to finish the day. People surrounded him after, but he politely deflected their attempts to get his attention; he had a prize to collect. 

He quickly located Kyla, his father, Trent, and Bastien together. “Ah, so I’ve found the circle of treason.” 

Trent’s jaw dropped and he stuttered something, but Constantine rolled his eyes and snapped, “Compose yourself, boy. You’re safe for now, even if you failed miserably.” 

Bastien laughed. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got your back.” 

“And you,” Constantine scowled. “I expected better out of you.” He went off on a long rant about honor and dignity, causing Liam and Kyla to chuckle. They quietly slipped away from the commotion, but kept Constantine in their line of sight. 

“So…” Liam started after a period of comfortable silence. 

“Yes?” 

“I believe I was promised a — prize — of sorts…” 

“You weren’t the only winner, thank you very much.” Kyla confidently stated. 

“Then consider it a reward for both of us...” 

As she took in Liam’s smirk, realization swept over Kyla. “Oh…” She bowed her head with flushed cheeks. “You want…?” 

“It’s tradition, Kyla, and I always honor traditions…” 

Kyla giggled and softly pecked his lips; it was so fast and sudden that neither was sure it truly happened, but the jolt of electricity told both it was very real. However, Liam needed more — a little taste of her simply wasn’t enough. He brought her closer and kissed her properly, cradling her face in his palms as they savored the tranquility of the moment. Butterflies swirled in their chests as their lips softly curled together, but Liam eventually pulled away wearing a bright smile that mirrored Kyla’s. 

“Now that’s a prize...” Kyla playfully swatted his chest, eliciting a bark of laughter from Liam. “Thanks for coming today, Kyla… I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Me too.”

“Do you think Lancelot failed Arthur, such as you have me?” They heard Constantine bellow over the crowd, as he laid into Bastien and Trent. “Yet, there are two of you, and you still couldn’t manage a simple task–” 

“Should we rescue them?” Kyla asked Liam. 

Liam considered it a second before he shrugged. “Nah. They can consider this punishment for their treason.” 

“Aww… Is William butthurt that his men turned on him?” Kyla batted her lashes with a toothy grin. 

Liam rolled his eyes. “Always with the 'William'…”

Tags (let me know if you want added or removed) - @ao719 @queenrileyrose @angelasscribbles @tessa-liam @kingliam2019 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @bascmve01 @busywoman @belencha77 @mysticalfangirl @nestledonthaveone @lovingchoices14 @lunaseasblog @malblk21 @sfb123 @emersyn-in-cordonia @walkerdrakewalker @tinkie1973 @queenmiarys

[wutheringmights]

AUTHORS COMMENTARY FOR NEW CTB PLSSSSS😭😭😭

Thank you! I would be more than happy to explain myself.

My commentaries have, historically, been a pain in the butt to read on a formatting level. I have attempted to fix this by breaking up the commentary into labeled sections. Consequently, this led to me writing out way more than I normally would.

So, enjoy.

[The Past]

Pre-Festival & Festival Day

As I mentioned previously, I wrote a significant part of this past section for the last chapter-- all the way up until Link asks for Icarius’s name. I ended up cutting the chapter into two for space, which meant that there was a few weeks between writing the first and second half of the icarius stuff. 

I really did not spend as much time with the latter half as I wanted to, and I think it suffers for it. I’ll elaborate on that in a second. Let’s try to stick to talking about the chapter in a somewhat chronological order. 

I joked about this last weekend, but Jakucho is extremely funny for hearing Link speculate about Icarius and Nephus and deciding, “Yup. Not my problem. Have fun with that.” Of course, she thinks he’s obsessed with Nephus and not Icarius. 

Gaze upon my weak attempt to confirm Ayane is trans. I think this might have been a bit of a clunky way to do it. I never know how to get characters to confirm their identities without it sounding too much like a script read. Hopefully, this was at least clear if not entirely blatant.

Holidays are such an important part of world building, and I think it is very silly when you are in a fun little fantasy world and they celebrate not-Christmas or the like. That being said, sometimes you are so exhausted of any ideas that you have to sit down and say “Fuck it. Off-brand Halloween.”

That being said, having a holiday to mourn the loss of the Sacred Realm feels fitting for the world, even if the inclusion of masks was a bit clunky. 

I really do think an under-explored area of Zelda lore is that the goddess’s realm is just... gone. Corrupted. Where are the goddesses now that the Sacred Realm is the Dark World? Is there a holy crusade to restore the Dark World to the Sacred Realm? I think Nintendo could do a dark fantasy spin off about this. Or when I finally get around to running that Hyrule homebrew DND campaign I have been cajoling my friends into playing, I’ll make it a plot point. 

Now that I am typing this, I am realizing that I really should have had a little moment where all the masks forces Link to remember the child. Fuck. 

In my original vision, Icarius was going to be very polite and quiet while at Jakucho’s estate, only for his next scene to be him snarking at some guys during a bar fight. What a bait and switch that would have been.

When I was a kid, I genuinely thought that the keaton mask was supposed to be a Pikachu mask (in part because I had only seen it in my cousin’s copy of Super Smash Bros). Hence, the yellow fox vs yellow mouse banter. 

Link’s House / Icarius Backstory

Writing Icarius and Link banter was surprisingly difficult. I have this whole vision in my head about these two being loving to verbally spar with each other. And for some reason, the dialogue was just not flowing the other day.

And by the other day, I mean that a part of my major revisions the day of posting was to fix this entire section. Did it work? Not really. But I got a D grade prose up to a B-, and that was going to have to do. 

My biggest gripe is their conversation in Link’s house, where Icarius info-dumps his entire backstory. In my brain, this scene would have felt dark and moody while still being a little romantic. They definitely hit all the points I needed them to hit for the plot, but it just... it’s so stilted. It doesn’t feel like Icarius is unloading years-worth of grievances on someone who he can trust to listen, if only for a night. It feels like Icarius is reading from a script. Ugh.

There was going to be an in-story explanation from Icarius as to why his hair is bleached that never actually came up. For those curious, it’s that Nephus had the grand idea first to bleach his hair but was worried it wouldn’t look good. So he had Icarius dye his first. Sure enough, he thought it looked terrible and decided to not go through with his end. Icarius was going to be very annoyed by that and would bitch about how long it would take for him to grow it out again. 

I originally was not going to give him the bleached hair to begin with, but after everyone made fun of Warriors for not recognizing him in the first place, I felt like I had to make a significant change to his appearance. It actually helped to get him to play the role I needed him to play in Link’s post-war problems.

Let’s rewind. In my original outline, Icarius was never here in Kakariko. This entire chapter would have instead been Link deciding on his own terms to get over his hang-up over being involved with men and going out to flirt with one. This would have been a random soldier who had been discharged and was just passing through town on his way home from the war. Link would have subconsciously been attracted to him because he resembled the engineer. 

For example, he would have made some comment about liking how strong his hands were. 

This soldier was truly going to be a random guy. At most, he would have mentioned rooming with a friend on-leave named Arlo (who appeared earlier in story as a soldier in the trenches). The whole point was that Link felt like he could connect with another person as long as he didn’t give them a chance to look too deeply into him. 

But after the House of Nephus characters were all introduced, I realized I needed to find some way to elaborate on them. Switching out the random soldier for Icarius was the easiest move.

Does it work? Kinda? It definitely helps the obsession plotline, but the original point got lost among all of the Icarius backstory.

So, Icarius backstory. I feel terrible for everyone who was looking forward to Link being swept away in a beautiful, touching romance. I tried to warn you.

Icarius and his relationship with Nephis is fascinating to me, and I really feel like I only have time to scratch the surface. Icarius is very smart, but believes that Nephus is one the “good ones.” But he can see that Nephus is starting to lose respect for him, so he plays these tricks to remind him that he’s still needed. He knows its foolish but his entire like has encompassed Nephus and he’s scared to know what it would look like without him. It works for a while, but not long enough. The reader knows that it stops working because that smart mouth of his that always picks fights gets taken away.

And that’s not even addressing the greater society Icarius lives in or the way Philo’s addition changes things for him even more. 

All that’s to say that even if Icarius is not the perfect romantic lead people were hoping for, I intended to suggest in-story that if either him or Link were in different circumstances, there could be something there. 

I actually really like the idea of Warriors’s love interest being an agent of an enemy state who is mean to him in the exact way he thinks is hot. Instead of inventing Hylian soldier or Sheikah warrior OC’s to be Warriors’s love interest, can there be more of this? It doesn’t even need to be Icarius. I just think falling-in-love with-the-enemy-but-the-enemy-is-a-shithead-about-it is an extremely funny dynamic.

There is also nothing funnier than Icarius thinking he’s met a nice, normal guy only to realize mid-act that he Messed Up

Also I hope this contexts helps fill-in the blanks for some of Icarius’s actions in the present day, which is no doubt a lot of “oh crap, it’s that guy I screwed that one time” and “how dare you forget about the one time we screwed!”

Post-Icarius Timeskip

I really needed to spend a few days at least on that last bit about Link’s realization. It’s so pivotal for his character, and I really just shoved it in at the end there. I’m going to have to add a lot of flowery prose to the beginning of next chapter to make up for it. 

That being said, it’s important to me that there really isn’t a specific trigger for him realizing what he’s done. He just finally feels comfortable and safe enough for his brain to start processing everything he did. 

It was very important to me that Link decided to stop dwelling in his past by putting a bowl into his cabinet, only for that bowl to break when he realizes what he’s done. Symbolism and stuff. 

[Present Day]

Ganondorf’s Arrival & Townhouse

I’m really happy that so many of you were excited for Ganondorf’s arrival last chapter. That scene was so cheesy that I was worried it would dampen the excitement of actually getting to see him. 

Originally, Ganondorf and Lincoln were going to have their argument in a bedroom, but I moved it to the foyer for convenience sake. But in my mind, I never moved Lincoln’s starting place from hiding in Ganondorf’s room, hence why he started the scene at the top of the stairs and not a more logical spot (in the hallway).

The reason it was going to be in the bedroom was because I thought Lincoln had snuck past Ganondorf’s guards and housestaff. But they all know about Lincoln, so it made more sense for Lincoln to subtly enter through the back entrance. It’s a whole thing. 

I think my favorite part of the Chain already being at Ganondorf’s house is that there’s an implied subplot that happened off-screen where they plus Lincoln had to go hunting for where they thought Ganondorf was staying. 

When Spirit pretends to not know who Ganondorf is, there was going to be a joke where the boys are trying to explain everything and he’s like “oh, so we’re all being racist here.” I ended up cutting it because, well, they were being racist.

Speaking of which, the whole thing with the maid calling Warriors “my lady” is that Warriors was going to try to gently correct her (because he thinks she’s stupid), only to find out that she was just being passive aggressive

Some may remember that one of the hardest cuts I made to CTB was a reporter OC. You can definitely tell that I am massively regretting that cut right now. Imagine how could it would have been for Warriors to pressure this antagonist journalist who’s been reporting all his fuck-ups into helping him fix everything. That sub plot would have been so good. 

I was going to have a few of the other heroes confront Warriors as to why he credited Zelda, reaching a similar conclusion that his narration provided. Ended up cutting it for space. 

A lot of the black blood stuff that I came up with for this chapter really doesn’t hit with LU, but at this point, I really don’t care. 

There’s something about how Spirit viewing monsters and humans the same resulting in him very easily killing people while also being the only one who would realize that black blooded monsters could have always been cured, had anyone thought about it before. I just enjoy the way this man thinks.

Also, Spirit really enjoying spicy food is such a stupid character quirk, and I am almost ashamed of how much effort I went to develop it. Originally, I wanted Wild to get so fed up with Spirit being unimpressed with his cooking that he would demand Spirit to cook one night, only to discover that he actually can’t cook and just overcompensates with a shit-ton of hot sauce. 

Ganondorf’s speech about how to win a war is partly the result of me spending months ruminating about how the Triforce could be used to end a war ethically, and partly an exploration of how Ganondorf thinks 

I wanted to do one last scene of everyone leaving, where Wind would confront Time about being an asshole to Ganondorf. I cut it for space, then convinced myself that I would have time to add it back in, only to then cut it for time. My apologies to the Wind fans who have gotten nothing as of late. 

Hospital & Family Dinner 

I said before that I wasn’t initially going to rescue Toto until the end, which means that I had no plan for how Toto would feel until now. I realized that Toto was just... done. He wanted no part in Warriors’s life any longer. Unlike Kat, who got a lovely send off, I think this will be the last we see of Toto: an unfinished, unresolved mess of emotions.

When I was first describing Lincoln’s casual fit, I remember thinking to myself that I was just describing a semi-retired aged rockstar. The image has not left my brain, and if I was willing to throw a few more anachronisms into the story, I would have 100% described Lincoln like that. 

Fun fact: Orlanda’s family was going to come back in the form of her sibling being a prominent member of the rebellion. I didn’t do it because it was getting ridiculous how many relevant people were related to each other. 

When I was first coming up with Linkle’s character, I had the idea that she had that shallow form of feminism where it’s a big win for women everywhere when, say, generic action heroine wears pants. So I had it in my mind that Linkle hates dresses on principle. So during the fever dream sequence, when Warriors dreamt that Linkle was fawning over a dress, it was to show that he didn’t really know her that well.

But I never really established this idea that well and no one knew this about Linkle, so into a dress she goes.

I told myself that I was going to scour the entire story to double check if I had ever described Lincoln laughing anywhere, but never got around to it. But the nice thing about unreliable narrators is that if I get something wrong, I can just blame Warriors (that is not really how unreliable narrators work)

I have a friend who “tee-hees” while she laughs, and it’s the cutest thing ever. I just think it would be fun if Lincoln also has an adorable little kitten laugh. 

I had to look up how they build roads on dunes for this chapter. 

I did write the full Lincoln and Ganondorf backstory in a post way back when, if anyone wants to review it. It would be nice to get to get all the small details into the main story, but it’s really not pertinent to any of the main action

I definitely talked about Niko before, but I can’t find the posts. To refresh: Niko is Spirit’s uncle, in that he’s a member of the Macaryll family but no one can remember who he’s actually related to. Spirit’s parents are dead, and he lived with a different uncle and aunt until his apprenticeship. Then he moved in with Niko since he lived near Alfonzo. 

Warriors hating chocolate is a character quirk that’s not necessary to the story, but I just think is too funny to not go out of my way to include

The idea of Linkle and Lincoln dancing came from a completely different scene idea. I played around with doing a similar set-up while the Chain is on the road to the Zora’s Domain. The scene would start with Sky showing Lana how to do a Skyloftian dance, which would lead to everyone else showing off their moves. When Warriors admits that he doesn’t think he could dance anymore, Spirit would teach him a New Hyrulean dance that required only one hand. 

That led to an idea of Warriors dancing with Linkle and Lincoln, then just Linkle and Lincoln dancing themselves.

The night was going to end with Warriors forgetting his scarf and, when he went back to get it, he would overhear Lincoln venting to Ganondorf about how the whole stepping up as the parent thing is going. This got cut because it’s more fascinating when you’re forced to infer that a character is thinking. 

The Walk Back & Out Dancing

This scene of Warriors and Spirit walking back together and opening up is my real pride and joy this chapter, which unfortunately got massively overshadowed by everything else. 

So I will now take time to gush.

Spirit’s photography... so I wanted to give this man a hobby because the man cannot just like trains. I know everyone headcanons it as his hyperfixation, but it’s also his job. He needs a richer life than just that one thing. Granted, I took the route of making him start as a trainspotter like the Spirit Tracks NPC Ferrus. 

I just feel like I am so correct about Spirit liking photography. I want this to be my cultural impact. I know I said that already about Icarius, but I mean this more. Go forth and give that man a camera. 

The official document Spirit was carrying around was his engineering license.  

Also, I was 100% ready for everyone to flood me with questions about Spirit’s ex-boyfriend. After the ickywars ordeal, I figured that there was a significant chance y’all wouldn’t be normal about him. I was prepared. And you know what? I’ve heard zilch. So, let me info dump about this man now.

Spirit’s ex-boyfriend is named Jean. He is on the cusp of 30 (compared to Spirit’s 23/24). He’s a mechanic, which is a few steps below Royal Engineer. He lost his leg in a work accident when a piece of machinery fell on him. They met through work. Spirit goes through phases of being a serial dater before swearing off dating for a few months, but Jean is the first person to make it past an awkward first date and hit relationship status. Spirit thought that because he was older, he would be more understanding. 

And Jean tried. He really did. But Spirit is massive defensive and always on the offensive, so every slight disagreement turned into an explosive argument. Jean decided that he could not deal with someone who could not have a rational conversation with him, so he dumped him after 6 months. This was fairly recent, about three months before Spirit returned to Warriors’s era. 

Spirit was going to name drop Jean in his speech later, but I couldn’t figure out a way to make it clear who Jean was without it sounding awkward. 

I really like Spirit and Warriors’s conversation about Icarius, if only because it shows where their communication fails. When Warriors insists that you have a duty to disobey bad orders, he is criticizing himself for falling into the military mindset. This sounds like a criticism to Spirit, who insists that people will do anything under orders because that is what he did. 

After Warriors has spent nearly every chapter since his amputation bemoaning his disability, I really wanted there to be a moment where he realizes that just because his ability level is different, he doesn’t have to give up doing everything he loves. That’s just an important lesson for him to learn, even if it is a little inspiration-porn-y.

The Hot Mess

You might realize that there is a massive elephant in the room I am not going to discuss here. That is because this post is going into the main tag. No one has complained to me yet, but let’s not tempt anyone right now. Just like the Neck Thing, I’ll make a separate post later for anyone who wants it. Just remind me in a few days.

With that being said--

Them sharing a cigarette was another scene that was originally conceived as taking place during the trip to the Zora’s Domain. Spirit’s anecdote about failing to make friends would have served as an early hint about his loneliness and inability to make friends. 

I also have never smoked a cigarette before, so I had to sit there on wikiHow reading up on  how to smoke one without coughing. 

The half in Spirit’s four and a half attempts at quitting is this time he decided to quit, only to relapse after three hours. It was too short to count as a full attempt.

Spirit’s speech hopefully reveals what exactly is Spirit’s problem, both how he sees it and how it really is. Unlike Warriors, he never found support and healing once the war ending. No one understood his experiences, and his coping mechanism of lashing out ward away anyone who could help him. Spirit just wants to feel better, but he doesn’t know how. 

Like... his whole thing about starting his own garage-- he’s a child prodigy who is used to be good at the things he does. He ended up tarnishing his own reputation, so he threw himself back into work because working on trains and fulfilling his dream is supposed to make him happy. He’s successful, but he’s not satisfied.

I was also expecting people to have a ton of questions about why Alfonzo disowned Spirit. In short, Spirit was already on a thin line with his lashing out and shitty attitude. Alfonzo was willing to let that slide until he realized Spirit was breaking work regulations to go on more runs without taking the legally required amount of time to rest inbetween. Spirit was a legal liability. He fired Spirit, but made it very clear that he was doing him a favor by not reporting him and getting his Royal Engineering license suspended. 

No one else in New Hyrule knows the real reason why Spirit was fired, so they all assumed it was his personality. So he has a bit of a reputation now for being hard to work with. 

Another thing that was not 100% conveyed in Spirit’s speech was that even if he didn’t hurt Zelda, he could not be with her because he does not want to be Prince Consort. His experiences in Warriors’s Hyrule thoroughly scared him off from politics, though he would have refused anyway since he would never give up being an engineer. 

 Fundamentally, Spirit is an extremely lonely person who has felt abandoned by everyone in his life. He knows that his life is the way it is now because of his experiences with Warriors. His guiding principle is trying to find some way to fix himself so that he can get the life he was supposed to have, one where he is happy and loved. 

I just... god, I love this character.

And then there’s Warriors, who feels like he not capable of change and that any opportunity he has to change has been denied to him. Fixing Spirit and Time’s relationship was supposed to be a part of his redemption. Making Spirit happy was supposed to mean he’s forgiven. He has no friends, not in the Chain or in Toto. No one needs him.

Warriors also just means so much to me. I adore this disaster of a human being. 

Warriors’s Plan Out

Does Warriors’s plan make sense? I am assuming it does since no one expressed confusion, but nearly every comment thus far has exclusively been about the Hot Mess (understandable). 

There was a reason I was peeved I had to cut every chance in earlier in the story to go back to Castle Town, and it’s because I’ve known that it was going to be an extremely important location. 

Warriors choosing to forgo a glorious revolution in favor of maintaining (if not manipulating) the status quo is not a great philosophy for our protagonist to be spouting in 2024. In my defense: a) I came up with this story in 2021, which was a different real world landscape, and b) Warriors would never become this ideal hero.

It feels more true for Warriors to not really become the idealized hero. His best is not that great. But if he can’t help being the worst, he could at least use his methods for good. 

I have mentioned before that I have low empathy. Lincoln’s speech about people naturally being better or worst at being good is a product of a lot of my musing about how I sometimes feel frustrated and resentful at how hard I find it to follow the social cues that would make me a “better person.” Wouldn’t I be a better person if I had an easier time recognize when someone is in trouble and needs my help. Instead, I have to depend on myself to remember the cues, and I am so prone to mistakes.

I want to be a kind person. I want to be the best person anyone has ever met, but it’s an uphill battle. I feel like I am always working against myself. But it’s still important that I make the choice every day to be kind to others. 

Besides, I have been told that I am more kind and helpful than other people, if only because I don’t rely on my feelings when deciding to reach out to others. So it has its perks. 

I’m not saying Warriors has low empathy. I have expressly written him as someone with empathy. But my philosophy that kindness and caring for others is an active choice just felt like it belongs here. 

There is story-canon low empathy character that I wanted to reveal in story to help Warriors beat the accusations and get people to not armchair diagnose him. I am still holding out hope I will have time and space to explore this in story, but if I don’t--

Four is written to have low empathy. It’s a consequence of the Four Sword splitting up his emotions, making it extremely difficult to tap into more than one emotion at a time, much less his empathy towards others. He can feel how this change in himself and has some thoughts on the whole thing. 

Is that the end of the chapter. Fuck yeah. I’ve been working on this since Monday, If you read all this... congrats! I hope it was worth it.

Also, I forgot to mention that this is the end of Act 5. My act system is a scam and not that important, but I figured I should let you all know.  

[delopsia]

del 💓 you said “rhett wants to jump straight to putting up the christmas tree and related decor, and bobby has to fight for his life to keep it at bay” and it got me wondering if this is how things go in the floytt household? 😂 do robby and reader kind of bend to rhett’s will and desires a lot of the time? does he pout for things and butter them up with kisses and hugs and soft-drawled pleas, or has he just taken to independent freedom and happiness so hard that he just starts doing things and neither reader nor robby have the heart to stop him—except where winter holiday decorations are concerned? 

omg and not to encourage rhett 😂 but what does the floytt family christmas tree look like? 

first of all, real or fake? i have a feeling that someone is allergic and thankfully knows it so decorating and subsequent celebrating goes off without a hitch...

is it rhett-sized or much shorter? the thought of any of them being taller than their tree is a little hilarious to me...

is it pine green or white / vintage colorful? can christmas-loving rhett appreciate wacking aesthetics from the 60s or is he a red and green traditionalist?

colorful lights or white lights? random collection of ornaments or matching cohesive store bought? i know what i think, but i wanna hear what you think 😌 

are they tinsel garland people? or popcorn string people?

do they make it a whole affair, putting it up and decorating? are they playing music while they eat seasonal snacks and sweets from the grocery store? omg do they bake cookies? i think christmas is the only time of year that rhett will eat non-fruit sweets and desserts, but robby says it hardly counts because everything still has a tendency to be fruity or vanilla, not to mention most of it is candy cane flavored! 

rhett ends up eating all those (i don’t know if you know what i’m talking about because they might be regional or generational [omg] but i hope you do) vanilla snowmen stick-less ice cream bars on him in retaliation *cue tackling in 3, 2, 1* 

and please don’t stress too hard about the void au 🥺☁️💕💐

aaaa! omg hello 💐💕

It...it is...

A majority of the time, Robby is just fighting for his life in this household. He has his set dates for when every holiday celebration should begin, how early is too early, and what the best day is to take down the decor...and Rhett is simply fueled by the sheer power of vibes. It drives Bob mad. There's no order! If Rhett could have his way, Halloween decor would be out in August, Christmas would be up November 1st, and it would stay up past Valentine's Day.

But his excitement is so damn contagious. How is anyone supposed to say no when Rhett's got a Santa hat held between his teeth as he digs through a box in search of their matching candy cane keychains? Bob tries for all of half a second, but then Rhett's looking up at him with those big, confused puppy eyes, and the effort flies out the window.

Usually, it ends in a compromise of baking Christmas cookies the day after Halloween and getting out the small things. But the tree stays put away until the day after Thanksgiving. It is not coming out any earlier than that. But there was that one year when he was away on deployment, and Rhett convinced the Reader to get it out in early November.

Bob's still (jokingly) annoyed about that, by the way.

I could have sworn that somewhere around here, I mentioned Bob having a pine allergy...but I cannot find it to save my life. A part of me likes to think that Rhett grew up having a real tree every year, and now he's just perpetually confused about the whole fake tree thing. Why does it feel like that?

dfkjgh the concept of using Rhett as a unit of measurement is so funny to me 😭 there are two trees. The first one came about the first year in the house. With the chaos of getting settled in and work getting in the way, Christmas took a weird place on the back burner, where it was high on the list of things to do but kept getting pushed off. Rhett's knee was hurting him, Bob and Reader went off and got sick twice, and all of a sudden, it was December 3rd and they had no damn tree. So Bob, mid-sickness, bought one online.

You can imagine his and Reader's surprise when they came home to find Rhett in the living room, staring down at the frailest tree they'd ever seen. Fully set up, fluffed, and leaning over because the tree topper was too damn big. It didn't even have lights!

The joys of no-return policies and not reading the fine print.

Twas a true Charlie Brown Christmas. That poor tree had to sit in the corner because it would just...fall over. Reader looked at it funny one afternoon, and the damn thing dropped dead.

But the second tree is a completely different story. The high ceilings in the living room allow them to get away with virtually any sized tree, and one way or another, they wound up with a ten-foot-tall tree (Which is the only thing stopping Rhett from getting it out by himself). They had their choice between a regular green and a flocked tree; the Reader was the deciding factor on which they got. It's got the fancy color-changing mode because nobody could decide on colorful or light.

Bob usually sets it on white, and then Rhett passes by and sets it to the blinking rainbow setting. It's a quiet war every year.

The ornaments start out cohesive, but the next year, the Reader finds their decor that went missing during the move, and things slowly start to randomize. Some fall and break. The trio finds adorable new sets of ornaments that weren't out the year prior, and the aesthetic falls into adorable disarray.

The only consistent decor is the topper. An adorable animated biplane that Nat gifted them. Always happily spinning at the top of the tree and will only ever be replaced if they inexplicably discover a version with an F/A-18...

I don't know if this counts as a Christmas tree, but there's a two-foot-tall rainbow tree in the kitchen that Rhett inexplicably came home with one day. A gift from a well-meaning boss who doesn't quite get the whole "just because I'm married to two people doesn't mean I'll only accept Pride-themed gifts" thing. It serves as home to all the weird ornaments that get collected over the year.

A chicken wing ornament simply does not belong on the main tree...

With three people, the tree gets busy a little...fast...so the tinsel garland makes an adorable appearance on the staircase banister. Usually matching the wreath on the front door.

It's an entire weekend venture! Saturdays are reserved for the tree-related fussings (getting a ten-foot tree out of the attic is a hell of a venture), and Sundays are for the general decor. Wreaths, knick-knacks, stockings over the fireplace, various figurines, and the stuff in the front yard. The three deer are the first to go out there, because, one way or another, each member of the household is represented by one of the deer. One might or might not have an old pair of glasses hot-glued to its face...

Festive music is a must! Rhett's still got some CDs that he used to play in his truck, and once those have been played out, it switches to whatever playlist someone has made. Sometimes, they'll take a break and head to the grocery store for some seasonal snacks out of the bakery section, but a lot of the time, someone has already brought some home. There's an adorable bakery on the route home, and it's so hard to not stop at.

Baking cookies, omg. Bobby's momma gifted them a 12 Days of Christmas Cookies recipe book, and every year they go through it. They try to bake one set every few days, but every once in a while, something happens, and like four types get baked in a day. Rhett's partial to Kołaczki (Polish filled cookies), and Cowboy Cookies. Who could have guessed. Bob is a simple man who would commit a crime for Danish Butter Cookies. Please don't ask how many blue tins he owns. He's lost count.

But nothing can come between these two and their mints. Buttermints, candy canes, those soft peppermint puffs that are sold by more brands than I can count but always seem to taste the same. They're insufferably minty until they run out of mints after the New Year. If it's mint, they're eating it.

I swear I have seen these vanilla snowman bars somewhere! I know I've never had them, but they looked so damn familiar when I looked them up. They absolutely get rationed out because otherwise, Rhett will eat them all in the span of two days.

But then there was also that year when Bob brought home a couple boxes of them, and Rhett moved them out to the garage freezer because they kept falling every time he opened the door. Except, he didn't tell Bob, so that coming Friday, Bob came home with more.

Rinse and repeat until he cracks and asks how Rhett and Reader have eaten so damn many so fast, and Rhett realizes what happened. That may have been the longest wrestling match they've ever had.

In better news, they had enough snowmen to last till Spring.

[scarletqueenx]

chapter six - a very supernatural christmas

Dean Winchester x female oc

Summary: After experiencing an alternative life through the spell of a Djinn, Dean realizes that he is missing something in his life. He and Freya Holloway had been dating for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for.

Author’s Note: this is my first time writing in tumblr. Also english is not my first lenguage.

series masterlist

Henry Holloway hated Christmas. Well, he hadn't always hated them, in fact it was his favorite holiday, until his wife died on that tragic May night in 1994. From then on, Christmas became a nightmare. Everything reminded him of Laurel and Carter. Because they were both the biggest Christmas lovers, unlike Freya, whose favorite holiday had always been Halloween, and not just because it was her birthday.

Still, Freya had made sure to always celebrate Christmas so her little brother could experience a normal life. Receiving presents from Santa Claus like the rest of the kids, decorating the tree, baking cookies and watching movies. But since he was born, Peter couldn't remember a Christmas with his father. Henry always left the house during that month, leaving Freya and Peter alone. Well, in the care of a family friend.

"You spent Christmas with Bobby?" Dean couldn't believe Freya's words. The girl nodded with a smile on her face, her arms resting on the back of the front seats of the Impala where Sam and Dean were sitting.

"Until I was 15, then I don't really know what happened. Bobby didn't come back that year nor the following and I became the adult in the house." She explained.

"That's weird."

"Something must have happened between them." Sam commented, turning to face Freya. The girl shrugged, not having an answer.

"Yet Henry called him when you disappeared." Dean pointed out.

"My father is not a hunter. I think Bobby is the only one he knows. He had no choice." Freya said.

Freya had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for almost three months. And after spending so much time with them and accepting them as part of her family, the girl knew that losing Dean would be much harder than she had first thought.

Now, three days before Christmas, the three of them were on their way to solve a new case. This had been the first year in a long time that Henry Holloway hadn't left his home on the last day of November. However, he was going to do it sooner or later. Peter had called Freya numerous times, frightened to be alone during this time of the year. Freya hated being away from him, and hated even more having to tell him that she wouldn't be able to make it in time to be with him on the 25th, so she had spent the last few days trying to convince her father to behave himself and stay by his side for the holidays.

So while Dean and Sam investigated and questioned the victim's family, Freya decided to stay at the motel so she could talk to her father.

"I know I should stay with him. But I see your mother everywhere during these days, it's like her ghost is haunting me." Henry explained as he ran a hand over his face in frustration.

"You burned her remains." Freya reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. But what if there's something left..."

"Dad, no ghost has shown up at that house during the Christmas that Peter and I have spent by ourselves." Freya cut him off. "Mom's ghost isn't haunting you. Okay? Peter can't spend Christmas alone..."

"He's 14 years old."

"Exactly, and you're his father. Act like it." She complained. "I've already spent his birthday away from him and he's spent mine away from me, don't do this to him."

"Maybe I can call Bobby..." Henry mumbled to himself, but still Freya was able to hear him.

"Forget it, Dean told me he was on a hunt." She said. "Dad..."

"I can't do it, Freya." He interrupted her. "I can't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I'm disappointing you and him, but... I hear your brother's laugh from when he was little, running around the house covered in flour from the cookies he used to make with your mother. I see you, still innocent, decorating the tree while dancing to Christmas songs. Last Christmas by Wham was your favorite. And... I see her, Freya. And it hurts."

"It hurts us all."

"I'm sorry I'm not the father you hoped for, Freya."

"You are." She assured. "You were for 10 years. You still are, I know you are."

"No. That man died alongside your mother that night."

Before Freya could say anything to refute his words, Henry ended the call leaving her clueless as to what to do to make sure her brother didn't spend Christmas alone. An idea quickly popped into her head just as Dean and Sam began sending her the information they had gathered on the case.

With a quick search, Freya managed to obtain Maddie Lockhart's phone number. Freya didn't have any friends or family to call other than Dean, Sam and Bobby, so Maddie was her only option.

"I don't know, Freya. I told you I don't want anything to do with this." Maddie complained after hearing her request.

"You just have to spend Christmas with him. One week, until after New Year's. My father will come home then." Freya insisted.

"You hardly know me."

"Come on, I can read people, I'm a hunter. You're not a killer. And Peter will run all the necessary tests to make sure you're human before he lets you in the house. He's very thorough, believe me."

"Okay. I'll do it. But you owe me one." Maddie finally agreed.

"Whatever you want." Freya assured, letting out a sigh of relief.

After that Freya went back to research, hanging pictures of different demons that might fit with what happened in that city on one of the walls of the room, opening several of the books she had taken from her house and looking for information on Sam's laptop.

"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Dean asked her, carrying a brown paper bag.

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke." Freya answered, causing Sam to chuckle.

"Who?" Dean looked at them in confusion.

"Mary Poppins?"

"Who's that?" He frowned.

"Oh, come on. I thought movies were your specialty." Freya frowned. "Never mind. Did you guys find anything else?"

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?" She frowned.

"Don't know." Sam answered. "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof."

Dean nodded, sitting down on the couch as he turned his attention to Freya.

"So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" He asked her.

"Actually, I have an idea." She admitted.

"Yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows with interest.

"Uh, it's gonna sound crazy."

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us?"

"Um... evil Santa." She replied with a nervous smile.

Dean paused, sharing a glance with his brother before turning his eyes back to Freya as he nodded. "Yeah, that's crazy." He stated.

Freya rolled her eyes, looking at Sam before getting to her feet as she grabbed one of her father's books to approach Dean.

"Yeah... I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture." She explained, showing Dean some evil Santa pictures. "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter." She turned to Sam the show him the book too. "Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" Dean asked.

"Saying... back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah." Freya looked him in the eyes as Sam took a step back as he seemed to be left out of the conversation. It was as if Freya and her brother had forgotten about his presence in the room as they discussed the girl's theory.

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Well, ah – I'm just saying, that's what the lore says."

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa."

"Yeah, I know." Freya assured with a scoff. "I mean... I could be wrong. I... just... Yeah, I gotta be wrong." She looked down, turning back to the table.

"Maybe, maybe not." Dean shook his head, taking the book from her hands in a quick motion when he saw the deception in her eyes.

"What?" Sam looked at him with confusion.

"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched." Dean explained with a shrug.

"Where?"

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

"This is not exactly how I pictured the North Pole if I'm being honest." Freya said, looking at that little event called Santa's Village where Christmas music was playing and children were running around while various employees dressed as Santa's elves were trying to entertain people. It was quite depressing. "I told you one thing, if I brought Peter here he wouldn't talk to me for a whole year. This place takes all the magic out of Christmas."

"Speaking of." Dean spoke, gaining her and his brother's attention. "We should have one this year."

"Have one what?" Sam frowned.

"A Christmas."

"That would be great." Freya smiled.

"No, thanks." Sam scoffed at the same time.

"We'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little." Dean commented towards his brother.

"Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know." Sam sighed.

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases."

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam looked at him in disbelief.

The look in his eyes was all Freya needed to see to realize that this subject was not a pleasant one for the younger Winchester.

She couldn't relate to it. Despite her father's absence the last few years, she had always had good Christmases. Except, maybe, the first one after her mother's death and Carter's departure. Peter was still a baby at that time and didn't understand much, which meant she didn't have to pretend to be happy and make sure he had a good Christmas experience.

"Oh, come on, Sam." Dean insisted.

"No! Just... no."

"All right, Grinch." Dean scoffed, walking away to take a better look of the place.

Freya turned to look at Sam, who seemed lost in thought. Truth be told, she was a little lost too, feeling once again that knot in her chest at the thought that she'd left Peter alone for Christmas. Well, not completely alone, but without his family. She just hoped he and Maddie would get along.

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow." Dean's voice brought Sam and her out of their thoughts

"What?" Freya frowned.

"Nothing. What are we looking for, again?"

"Um... lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets." She answered, looking around.

"Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa." Dean sighed which made Freya giggle. "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?" Freya teased, moving closer to him.

"That's creepy." He stated, looking back at her.

"Yeah, I know. I just... have this tendency to try to cover everything bad with a joke or a sarcastic comment."

Dean nodded, totally understanding that.

"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" Sam asked as he walked with them.

"I don't know." Freya shrugged, stopping and staring at the man wearing a Santa Claus costume sits outside a small barn a few feet away from where they were standing. Like the fake Santa Claus in the malls, this one let children sit on his lap to tell him the gifts they wanted to receive for Christmas.

"So, Ronny, tell me. You been a good boy this year?" Santa asked the kid who was currently sitting on his lap.

"Yeah." The boy answered.

"Good. Santa's got a special gift for you." Santa answered him as cackled creepily, which caused Freya to cringe.

"Maybe we do." Dean answered his brother's earlier question after witnessing that scene.

"Yeah, as if kids were actually honest when Santa asks them that." Freya scoffed as she watched the mother grab her son's hand to lead him away from the fake Santa.

Just at that moment a woman in an elf costume walked up to Sam, Dean and Freya.

"Welcome to Santa's court." She smiled. "Can I escort your child to Santa?"

"Uh..."

"No. No. Uh, but actually my brother here" Dean spoke, cutting off his brother's mumbling as he smacked him on the shoulder. "...it's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elfin girl turned her eyes to the young Winchester, looking at him like he's a freak. "Uh, sorry. No kids over... 12."

"No, he's just kidding." Sam quickly spoke, trying to clear up the situation. However, his last words caused quite the opposite. "We only came here to watch."

The girl frowned before turning her eyes to Dean and Freya, as the latter tried to hide the chuckle that was about to escape her lips.

"Eww."

"I-I didn't mean that we came here to w—" Sam tried to explain, but she didn't pay him any attention as she walked away from them. Dean turned his head towards Freya, and when their eyes met neither could help but chuckle at the awkward situation the olderer Winchester had put his brother in. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that." Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance as they continued to laugh.

"Hey, guys, Check it out." Freya spoke as she caught her breath, pointing to the fake Santa, who was standing up from his chair, walking with bad limp.

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?"

"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man." Dean commented when the man walked pass them.

"That was weed, dude." Freya stated. "I think. Had to be. That guy is definitely high. Who the fuck hired the people in here?"

"Okay, maybe you're right, but are we willing to take that chance?" Dean looked back at her. Freya shrugged.

No, they were not going to take it. They needed to be sure. That's why when night came they found themselves inside the Impala, watching the house of the stoned and fake Santa Claus.

"What time is it?" Dean asked.

"Same as the last time you asked." Sam answered him. "Here... Caffeinate." He handed Dean a thermos.

"How come she gets to sleep and I don't?" He grunted, looking over to Freya who was lying on the back seats of the car.

Sam turned toward him with disbelief.

"Really? You're the one who told her not to worry, that we'd take care of it."

"Yeah, well. She looked tired." Dean shrugged, opening the thermos.

"Yeah, right." Sam scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"Come on. What's that look for?" Dean asked in frustration.

"Nothing, Dean. It's just that you're so obvious." Sam answered, looking back at him.

"What are you talking about?" Dean frowned, trying to pour some coffee into the cup, but the thermos is empty. "Wonderful."

"I'm just saying that if you really want to keep your distance with her, you're not doing a very good job."

Dean looked up at him at his response, remaining silent for a few seconds. If he was honest his brother was right, but sometimes he couldn't help but fall into the habits of his time dating her. Besides, Freya was hard to ignore.

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?" He then asked, changing the subject. Sam scoffs, directing his gaze back to the fake Santa's house.

"Dean..."

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids."

"'Bumpy'?

"That was then. We'll do it right this year."

"Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."

Dean looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds."

"Well, I'm sure Freya will want to join you. She seems to love Christmas." Sam pointed to the girl.

The car went silent again as they returned to watching the house. Just in that moment fake Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top, looked outside and then closed his curtains.

"What's up with Saint Nicotine?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, my God!" A woman's voice was heard from the house, making the brothers jump out of the car and run to the house with their guns drawn.

At the noise, Freya couldn't help but wake up. Her eyes searching for them, seeing them enter the house with their guns in hand. Quickly the girl grabbed hers and went after them. But the image she encountered was not what she expected. The stoned, fake Santa was sitting on his couch, watching what appeared to be a Christmas porn movie while Dean and Sam sang a very off-key version of Silent Night. Freya did her best not to laugh as she grabbed both of their arms to pull them out of the house, closing the door after her.

"That went well." She sighed.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Arriving at the Holloway house, Maddie was alarmed to find that its door was wide open. Fear almost made her run out of there, but then she remembered that a boy was waiting for her. As scared as she was to run into those two demons again, she had to gather courage from wherever she could.

However, the girl didn't expect that when she set foot inside the house, a stream of water would be shot directly into her face.

"You have passed two tests, congratulations. Now let's see how you get out of that trap, demon." Peter spoke from the top of the stairs, shooting her again with his water gun.

"Whoa, whoa. Stop!" Maddie exclaimed, trying to cover her face with her arms. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure you're not a demon or some other monster. You have past the salt line. This is holy water." He explained, pointing to the gun in his hands. "Now you need to get out of there." Maddie frowned as she watched him point to the ceiling. She then looked up, finding a circle with various symbols drawn on it just above the door of the house.

"It's a demon trap." Peter explained. "Although, if you're one of them you already know that." Maddie was about to speak, but he interrupted her before she could. "Now, move and go get that silver knife over there." He ordered, pointing to her right as he shot her again with the holy water.

"Quit it. What is this, the house from Home Alone?" Maddie asked in disbelief.

"You like movies." He observed with a little smile. "I like you. I really hope I don't have to kill you." Peter admitted, turning serious once again. "Move."

"Okay, okay." Maddie accepted. "God, what is wrong with this family?" She muttered to herself.

Doing everything as the boy ordered, Maddie finally managed to convince him that she wasn't a monster. After that Peter put away his gun and the silver knife with which he had forced her to make a small cut on her hand and joined her again with an innocent smile on his lips.

"How about ordering some pizza?"

Pizza was also what Dean, Freya and Sam had for dinner that night before morning came and they heard the news of another attack. As usual that forced them to put on their suits and grab their fake badges so they could interrogate the victim's family.

"So, that's how your son described the attack? 'Santa took daddy up the chimney'?"

"That's what he says, yes." Answered the woman, who had a bruise over her eye from the attack.

"And where were you?" Dean asked.

"I was asleep and all of a sudden... I was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attacker?" Freya wondered.

"It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out." Mrs. Caldwell said with a shake of her head.

Freya nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard."

"Yeah, um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" Sam asked her as he pointed to it.

Freya and Dean frowned with confusion, looking at the wreath a little puzzled by Sam's question.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Caldwell looked at him just as confused has them.

"Just curious, you know." He shrugged with a smile, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Forgive him, he is a just rookie and doesn't know how to follow orders." Freya excused him, resting her gaze on Sam. "I told you to keep quiet, remember?"

Sam wasn't amused by that, unlike Dean.

"Thank you for answering our questions." Freya looked back at the woman. "And we're sorry about what happened."

Mrs. Caldwell nodded as they left the house.

"Wreaths, huh?" Dean asked his brother as they walked back to the car. "Sure you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"We have?" Freya frowned.

"Dean and I, yes. At the Walshes'. Yesterday." Sam answered.

"I know. I was just testing you." Dean smiled making Sam scoff.

"Okay, but what does a wreath have to do with the case?" Freya looked at them with confusion. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but it was the exact same wreath. It's a connection between victims, it's worth a look."

"Fine." She shrugged getting inside the car.

Back at the motel, Sam was on the phone with Bobby while Dean cleaned the guns and Freya tried to contact her father. At least she knew her brother was okay, as Maddie had texted her the night before to confirm that she had arrived at the house. Accompanied by a threat that if Peter didn't behave himself she would end up killing him. She clearly wasn't serious, but she was close to it.

"I swear I will kill him. He just had to stay with his son for the holidays, is that so hard?" Dean looked up at her and watched as she slammed her phone down on the table. She looked back at him then, her eyes full of exhaustion and disappointment.

Unfortunately, Dean and Sam knew exactly what it was like to spend Christmas without their father, and certainly, though the kid was a pain in the ass, Dean didn't exactly wish that on Peter.

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby." Sam spoke before hanging up the phone. "Well... we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."

Freya grunted, resting her forehead on the arm she had over the table. Dean sighed as he watched the state she was in.

"What did Bobby say?" He asked his brother as he turned to him.

"Uh, that we're morons." Sam answered, sitting nest to Freya, who then looked up at him. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.

"Wow! Amazing." Freya answered sarcastically. "What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore." Sam said, looking at his laptop.

"Pagan lore?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, I know that one." Freya raised her hand.

Sam looked at her with confusion before answering his brother.

"See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a... Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday." He pointed out with confusion.

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas'. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit – that's all remnants of pagan worship." Freya explained, letting her head fall back.

Sam and Dean shared a look at that. The younger one especially confused by her attitude, as he hadn't heard about the situation with her father.

"Wow, you really are a smarty, aren't you?" Dean smiled with amusement.

"Don't call me that." Freya harshly complained, looking back at him.

Dean looked at her startled by her reaction. "Okay, I'm sorry. But how do you know all that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?" Freya rolled her eyes at his worlds as Sam stayed silent. "So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?" Dean then turned to his brother.

"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice." Sam answered, looking down at his laptop.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths..."

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'."

"Great."

"Huh... When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return." Sam spoke again.

"Lap dances, hopefully." Freya chuckled at his answer.

"Mild weather." Sam corrected.

Freya frowned, looking out the window. "Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan."

"For instance."

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths."

"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?"

"Let's find out." Sam exhaled.

After visiting several Christmas decoration stores, they finally found the one that had sold those wreaths. From what the shopkeeper had told them, a woman named Madge Carrigan made them and gave them to him for free, saying that they were special. He had taken it upon himself to sell them, this time charging for them, and that is how they had arrived at the victims' houses.

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked, turning on the light as they walked back into the motel room.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least." Sam answered.

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious." Freya said, sitting down on the couch as she checked the messages on her phone.

Dean and Sam nodded, taking off their jackets and siting on the edge of their beds.

"Hey, Sammy, remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?" Dean asked his brother.

"You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?" Sam frowned as Freya looked up at them with curiosity.

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans." Dean explained to her when he noticed her confuse expression. "That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it."

"Sounds cool, I guess..." Freya didn't exactly know what to respond.

"All right. Dude... What's going on with you?" Sam frowned, looking back at his brother.

"What?"

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it." Sam shook his head as Freya began to feel a little out of place. Her nerves increasing at the lack of messages or calls from her father or Maddie.

"Then what?"

"I-I mean, I-I just... I don't get it." Sam admitted. "You haven't talked about Christmas in years."

"Well, yeah. This is my last year." Dean pointed out, causing a knot to settle in his brother's and Freya's chests.

Sam sighed, looking down.

"I know. That's why I can't." He finally admitted.

Dean's face turned confused at his little brother's words.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead." Sam explained. "I just can't."

After that Sam left the room claiming he was going to get some dinner. Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh, glancing down at his hands before raising his gaze back up to Freya, who was sitting on the couch across from him.

"You are not gonna say anything?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" Freya asked with confusion. "Honestly, I'm too focused on my own family problems to be focused on yours."

"Yeah, about that... Did your dad call you?" Dean asked with honest interest.

"I think he's avoiding me." Freya let out a sigh. "And I have this friend with Peter..."

"The same one you went to visit in Salem?"

Freya paused, narrowing her eyes.

"Is there something you want to say to me?"

"I know you were lying." Dean stated taking her by surprise. "I don't know what you went to do in Salem, but I know you weren't going to visit an old friend."

"It's none of your business."

"Some old boyfriend? Maybe a hook up budy? Friend with benefits?" He asked with a smirk.

"You're an jerk, you know that?" Freya said without amusement. "You and Sam aren't the only ones with family problems, you know? Maybe he's right and you should stop talking about Christmas, because this one's definitely the worst. Although I'm sure next year's will be even more so for him."

With nothing more to say, Freya stood up, grabbed her bag and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Dean stayed there, sitting on the edge of his bed. Everything he did or said seemed to mess everything up even more with his brother and Freya. The only consolation was that maybe this way his death wouldn't affect them as much. But that was a stupid thought and deep down he knew it.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The next day was not very productive for Sam, Dean and Freya, who all they could do was visit the woman who made the wreaths. Although the visit did serve to confirm that her and her husband were the ones causing the attacks. At least it seemed obvious to Freya because of their obvious weird energy with their meadowsweet and peanut brittle, their old-fashioned cardigans and their whole aesthetic of an old couple stuck in the 50's. Nice and happy.

After that they could only do more research and wait for Bobby to tell them how to stop them.

Peter and Maddie however did have a much more productive day. Maddie was growing fond of the boy, who had dragged her to the nearest mall for last minute shopping, begged her to make Christmas cookies and tricked her into playing with some rubber-bullet guns around the house. If she was honest, she hadn't had this much fun in years. Peter reminded her why for years she had longed for younger siblings.

"I win. Again." Peter said, lowering his gun as the rubber bullet hit the Maddie's shoulder.

Maddie grunted with annoyance. "How are you so good at shooting?"

"My sister started teaching me when I turned eight."

"Your sister taught you how to shoot real guns?" Maddie looked at him shocked. Peter nodded, taking the plastic gun from her hands to put it away alongside his own.

"She wanted me to be prepared in case any monsters showed up at the house or if I encountered any." He explained. "She also made sure I brought a knife to school and taught me martial arts. I can teach you if you want."

"No, thanks. Hunting is not my thing." Maddie admitted with a nervous smile.

"And what is your thing?" He asked curiously.

"Photography."

"Why?"

Maddie shrugged. "I don't know. If you take the perfect picture at the perfect moment, you can live a moment over and over again. You can cherish the little gestures and little moments for a lifetime."

"Too deep for me." Peter sighed "But I guess I get it. I want to be a movie director."

"That's cool. But it's also deep."

"Yeah, I guess. Although my thing would be horror or fantasy films. I know a lot about monsters."

"I can see that." She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure. What's for dinner?" He asked.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve and my mom had this tradition of making a turkey with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. How about that? The turkey's in the oven." Maddie explained as she headed to the kitchen being quickly followed by him.

"Freya and I usually have ice cream while watching a Christmas movie after dinner, can we do that too?"

Maddie turned to him with a slight smile on her lips, appreciating that he hadn't complained about her plans.

"Of course."

"Great. I'll go get the movies." He said enthusiastically.

"You should also call your sister." Maddie reminded him before he ran off upstairs.

Peter stopped on his tracks letting out a sigh.

"Yeah, you're right." He admitted, approaching the wall phone. However, Freya was not in a very comfortable position to answer his call at that moment.

After Bobby informed them that the way to kill the pagan god was wooden stakes, Dean and Freya had made sure to set them up while Sam learned that the old married couple had lived in Seattle last year where two similar attacks had occurred.

The house looked perfect, decorated for Christmas and smelling of freshly made food and cookies. Everything seemed normal, until they reached the basement of the house. Where they found bones covered with blood in a large bowl and many other disgusting things. The whole basement looked like a butchery room rather than a storage room. And it was there that the couple took them by surprise, knocking all three of them unconscious.

Now Freya's phone was buzzing in her pants pocket as she lay on the kitchen island, still unconscious. Her hands and legs tied, preventing her from moving while Sam and Dean sat back to back in two chairs beside her, struggling with the ropes that held them.

"Hey, Freya. Sweetheart, you need to wake up." The girl could hear Dean's voice in the distance. With her eyes still closed and dazed, Freya tried to turn her head toward his voice. Dean grunted as he kept trying to get free from the ropes around his wrists, watching as Freya grimaced in pain when she moved.

"Dean?" She asked in a quiet whisper, still not opening her eyes.

"Yeah, is me, sweetheart. I'm right here. We're here." He assured her.

"You okay?" She asked, slowly opening her eyes.

"We should ask you that." Sam answered, giving her a slight smile. Freya tried to return it, but her whole body ached with every movement. "I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God." Dean nodded. "Nice to know."

In that moment the kitchen door opened and the Carrigans came waking in, dressed in colorful Christmas themed sweaters.

"Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff." Madge giggled,

"Miss all this? Nah, we're partiers." Dean cockily replied.

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?" Mr Carrigan looked at his wife before turning his gaze back at them as he smoked his pipe. "You're hunters, is what you are."

"And you're pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?"

"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" He laughed. "I don't think so."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?" Sam commented.

"Oh now, don't get all wet." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes.

"Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that's a fact." Madge spoke, putting a napkin on Dean's lap before doing the same with Sam. "Now what do we take? What, two? Three?"

"Hardy Boys and their girlfriend here make six." Her husband pointed out.

"Now, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that, I guess you guys are the Cunninghams." Dean answered, smirking at his own comeback.

"You, mister, better show us a little respect." Mr. Carrigan said, looking back at him.

"Or what? You'll eat us?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

Mr. Carrigan was about to answered him but his wife's voice interrupted him. "Oh, honey, don't try so hard. It's no use." Madge said as she noticed how Freya shifted, struggling with the ropes on her wrists trying to get loose while letting out slight grunts of pain with each move.

"Don't touch her." Dean stated, clenching his jaw.

"Well, guess we've just figured out whose girlfriend this young lady is." Mr. Carrigan commented, stroking her cheek. Freya looked up at him threateningly.

"I will kill you." She declared through her teeth. Mr. Carrigan raised his eyes, sharing a glance with his wife at her response.

"What a mouth you have, young lady." Madge said, approaching her with a knife and bowl in her hands. "I think you need to learn some manners."

"All I need is a wooden stake. I'm going to enjoy driving it into your hearts, believe me." Freya replied, clenching her jaw.

Without missing a beat Madge slid the knife down one of her arms, collecting her blood in the bowl. Freya couldn't help but grunt in pain at the piercing sensation. But still, her tolerance for it was impressive. Especially for the couple of Pagan Gods, who were used to the cries of despair. But unlike their other victims, Freya had already experienced a situation similar to that and it had been much worse.

"Freya!!!" Dean exclaimed. "Leave her alone, you sons of bitches! I'm going to kill you."

"Hear how they talk to us? To Gods?" Mr. Cardigan looked at his wife. "Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions."

"Times have changed!"

"Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our–our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

"Maybe because you are." Freya replied.

"But did we say a peep? Oh no, we did not." Madge continued, ignoring her words while her husband added something to the bowl of blood. "Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh-What was that word, dear?"

"We assimilated." He replied.

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We're just like everybody else." She spoke as she took another bowl and the knife to sliced up Sam's arm.

"You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady." Dean answered, clenching his fists as he heard his little brother screaming in pain.

She ignored him as she stood in front of him to slide the knife down one of his arms. "This might pinch a bit, dear."

"You bitch!" Dean screamed out.

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar." She looked at him with offense. "Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? 'Fudge.'"

"I'll try and remember that!" He panted making her smile.

"You guys have no idea how lucky you are." Mr. Carrigan said, picking up a pair of pliers. "There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

Freya turned to look at him as she noticed how he stood at her left side, holding her hand. Panic invaded her as she remembered the most painful and terrifying night of her life. It was then that Mr. Carrigan's face seemed to change into her own older brother's for a few moments. Confused, Freya blinked several times. For a brief second, it seemed as if she had returned to her home, to that night in 1994 when everything changed.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" She looked at the tool once she came back to reality. But Mr. Carrigan didn't respond, he just smiled at her. A shiver ran down her spine.

Watching that scene play out before his eyes Dean turned to Madge. "You fudging touch her again and I'll fudging kill you!"

"Very good!" The woman smiled.

"No. No. Don't." Freya looked at Mr. Carrigan with panic when she understood what he was going to do. For the first time that night, Freya felt the pain for real. Her body ached since she had been knocked unconscious, but this was much worse. Though nothing compared to what Carter had done to her. A scream left her mouth when Mr. Carrigan pulled the nail of her index finger.

"Oh, we got a winner!" He said, holding up the nail.

"What else, dear?" Madge asked him as they put all the ingredients in the bowl and stirred them.

"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh... Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick. I forgot the tooth." He laughed.

"Merry Christmas, guys." Dean said, making Sam and Freya groaned. Mr. Carrigan picked up a different time of pliers and walked towards Dean.

"Wait! Wait!" Freya exclaimed. "Take one of mine."

"Aw, how cute, protecting her boyfriend." Madge commented, looking at her husband.

"Please." Freya insisted while Dean shook his head. "I can take the pain."

"We know, honey." Madge assured her. "But we actually like the screams."

"Open wide... and say, 'Aaah.'" Mr. Carrigan grabbed Dean's chin.

Despite trying to resist, Mr. Carrigan managed to put the pliers into Dean's mouth. Then suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Somebody gonna get that?" Deas asked with the pliers still in his mouth. Madge and Mr. Carrigan looked at each other. "You should get that."

"Come on." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes before leaving the kitchen with his wife. At that, Dean couldn't help but sigh in relief and run his tongue around his teeth.

To their luck, the two gods had left a knife on the island countertop, just inches from Freya's left hand. But Sam and Dean had more experience getting loose from ropes, handcuffs and chains, so before she could reach the knife they had already broken free.

"You're a little slow, sweetheart." Dean walked over to her, starting to undo the knots in the ropes on her wrists while Sam did the same with the ones on her ankles. "'Take one of mine', really?" Dean whispered, holding her by the waist to help her down.

"Oh, leave it. I was trying to save you the pain." She sighed, putting an arm around his neck to steady herself.

"And keep it all for yourself?"

"Well, I've had worse." She admitted, turning her head toward him. It was then that she noticed the short distance between their faces, causing her to gulp nervously. She could feel his breath against her lips, his body against hers, how his muscles tensed at her touch, how his eyes roamed her face....

"Hey, lovebirds." Sam snapped them out of their daydream, opening the other kitchen door so they could get out. "Come on."

Dean nodded quickly, following him into the hallway of the house as he helped Freya walk.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." Freya said, releasing her grip, but Dean kept his arm around her waist, hesitant.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. It's okay. I promise." She smiled reassuringly at him. Sighing, Dean took a step back, letting go of her.

"Now, where were we?" Madge spoke as she and her husband walked back into the kitchen. A gasp escaping her mouth when she noticed that Sam, Dean and Freya were no longer there.

Splitting up, each of the Winchester brothers closed the two kitchen doors. Freya staying with Dean and dragging a drawer to the door as the Carrigan's started banging on the door, trying to escape. When they finally managed to block the door completely, they both rushed to join Sam so they could help him hold the other door.

"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!" Sam answered with obviousness as Freya rolled her eyes, stepping back and looking around the room they were in, the main living room of the house.

"I think I just found us some more." She spoke, looking at the Christmas tree.

"Good idea." Sam admitted. "Dean, help me get this." He pointed to a cabinet. Dean nodded and help him pushed in front of the door. Meanwhile Freya snapped a couple of branches from the tree to use as stakes.

Suddenly the house fell into silence. The brothers and Freya couldn't help but share a look of confusion as she tossed them two of the stakes. Just as Dean caught the stake in his hand, Mr. Carrigan appeared out of nowhere and tackled him. Madge walked behind her husband, straight toward Freya.

"You little thing." She growled, her face momentarily distorting to her true form. "I loved that tree."

Sam raised his stake but Madge hit him so hard he crashed into the couch and onto the floor. Freya moved quickly towards her, pushing her far from the young Winchester and thrusting the stake into her heart.

"Madge!!!" Mr. Carrigan screamed, stopping the punches he was throwing at Dean. Freya pushed the stake deeper and she groaned, falling to the ground, dead. Meanwhile Dean toke the opportunity and hit Mr. Carrigan, stabbing him with his stake. He screamed in pain before Dean pulled out to stabbed him again. Mr. Cardigan then thumped to the ground, next to his wife, dead.

Helping the Winchester brothers get to their feet, Freya sighed with relief.

"Merry Christmas." Sam said looking at her and Dean with a brief smile on his face.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After what had happened that night, Freya just wanted to take a shower, change her clothes, call her brother and go to sleep. It was Christmas Eve, but her Christmas spirit seemed to have disappeared. What the pagan gods had done to her had reminded her of that 1994 night. Even in the warm, comforting shower, every time she closed her eyes she felt like she was back home being chased by her older brother.

"Hey, Freya, do you want something particular for dinner?" Dean's voice could be heard through the bathroom door. Their rooms were adjoining, so he must have wandered into hers.

Turning off the water, Freya stepped out of the shower. "No. Whatever you bring will be fine. Thank you."

"Okay. I'll be back in 20 minutes." Dean was about to leave, but stopped short before doing so, leaning against the bathroom door with his eyes fixed on the floor. "Are you all right?"

The question took Freya off guard. Her hands shaking slightly as she wrapped a towel around her body.

"Yes." Her voice came out shaky. "I'm fine."

Dean knew she was lying, but decided not to insist. "Listen, uh... I'll buy something and when I get back I'll patch you up, okay?"

Freya nodded not realizing he couldn't see her.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get me something for my headache too?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, but it quickly disappeared.

After hearing the door close, Freya reached into the sink to grab her phone. Her father had not yet returned her calls or messages, but she did have several texts from her brother.

Leaving the bathroom, Freya dialed her brother's phone as she sat on the edge of her bed. "Frey, are you okay? Did something happen to you? I'm going to kill those..."

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm all right." Freya cut him off. "It's okay. You don't have to kill anybody." She reassured him. "How are you? How are you doing with Maddie?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I still miss you."

"I miss you too, kiddo."

"You know, Maddie's agreed to watch a movie with me. And we're going to eat some ice cream."

Freya smiled wistfully. "Sounds like the perfect plan."

"It would be if you were here." Peter admitted sadly. "What are you and those idiots going to do tonight?"

"I really don't know. I'm really tired." Freya answered.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve." He reminded her.

"Yeah, I know. I know." She sighed. "I don't know, maybe I'll watch a movie too."

"Great. Tomorrow you tell me which one. I love you." Peter said in a hurry as he watched how Maddie had just put the movie on the TV.

"I love you too." Freya answered. "Say hi to Maddie for me."

"Yeah, sure. Bye." He said a quick goodbye before hanging up and leaving her alone in that motel room, just as she had been before calling him.

Still, Freya knew Peter was right. She couldn't stay all depressed and alone on Christmas Eve. Sam might not want to celebrate the holidays, but Dean sure would want to take a walk with her and celebrate together.

What Freya didn't expect was that after getting dressed and walking through the door connecting their rooms she would find Dean and Sam already celebrating Christmas. A very improvised celebration due to the cheap decorations that had been put up.

"I brought you what you asked for." Dean spoke as he saw her enter the room, holding up a bag. Freya turned to him, giving him a slight smile of gratitude though still confused about the whole situation.

"Ah, uh... I thought it would be nice to celebrate Christmas." Sam explained when he saw her confusion. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I know it's not much..."

"It's perfect. I love it." She assured him.

Sam smiled. "I brought some movies too."

"And there's ice cream in the fridge." Dean added making Freya look at him with confusion.

"You bought me ice cream?"

"I know you love it. It's not your favorite flavor because they didn't have it, but..." Freya cut him off as she wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you both." She spoke, hugging Sam this time. Both brothers couldn't help but share a look and smile at her reaction.

"We also have gifts."

"You do?" Freya looked at them with surprise as she separated from Sam. Dean nodded. "I... I have something for you too." She admitted then. "I didn't know if I was going to be able to give them to you because Sam here seemed so sour about Christmas, but... I'm going to get them."

She quickly left the room and returned just a few seconds later with two small packages in her hands.

Sam and Dean gave her their gifts first, both of which they had bought quickly at a gas station store, but for Freya they turned out perfect. Sam had gotten her a book so she wouldn't get bored in the back seats of the car during drives while Dean had won her a stuffed animal in one of those claw machines. Their gifts were so them that Freya couldn't help but smile with amusement.

"I love them." She assured. "Now it's my turn. They might be a little more personal, and you might think it's stupid, but..."

"Freya." Dean interrupted her as he noticed how she started to wander.

"Sorry, sorry. Here you go." She handed them the packages.

As they opened them, Freya decided to start explaining the reason for them. "Years ago my brother made me one of those braided bracelets out of purple fabric." She showed them the bracelet on her wrist. "The next year I made him one with a different color fabric. It turns out that this fabric is a special kind. In some cultures they believed it provided protection from darkness and evil. I thought red and blue would be your colors. You don't have to wear them. It's stupid..."

"We love them." Dean interrupted her. "Right, Sammy?"

"Yeah. They're pretty cool." He assured her.

Freya looked at them doubtfully, but smiled slightly as she watched them put them around their wrists.

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[kickingitwithkirk]

Snow Globes and Forgiveness

Summary: Even though Chucks no longer creating the narrative, it’s not a Winchester Christmas till something goes wrong.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 3194

Warnings: wincest, cursing, m/m kissing, frottage, my attempt at flangst

For: @thepromiscuousduck @spnfanficpond Secret Santa exchange 2023

A/N: set after 15.19 & in this AU 15.20 doesn’t happen

A/N II: Apologies to all other participants for taking so long. Between a last minute switch, couldn’t rewrite until after new year & had a rebound of a bad respiratory virus that’s keep me mostly offline last few weeks.

A/N III: once again, brevity doesn’t exist in my vocabulary

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*gif credit to creator

Sam Winchester has never been big on the holidays.

Let’s start with a specific Halloween party and his disastrous bobbing for apples incident involving a girl he liked. Then there was that one Thanksgiving he’d been invited to by another girl who turned out to have hands like an octopus and spent the whole dinner, as his brother so eloquently put it, playing footsie with brace-face, not three feet from her dad.

Not to mention, others celebrated, or not, Winchester style; his dad either missed it entirely or showed up with a bucket of extra crispy from the colonel and passed out on a couch. The best was that one Christmas before Dean went to hell a few months later.

But this year was going to be different.

They’d been adjusting to normality reasonably well. Okay, so Dean is the one adjusting better in some respects and said since it’s the brothers' first non-Chuck Christmas, they had to make it extra special. Sam knows this was Dean’s way of trying to make up for all the shitty holidays during their childhood. And knowing his brother, he’s envisioning emulating Mrs. Butters, the wood nymph they accidentally released in the bunker, Jam Packed holiday extravaganza she’d done those few weeks before leaving.

While Dean was getting the tree (Sam would’ve bet more likely grabbing the first one he saw before hitting the liquor store), he sent Sam to pick out ornaments. Sam was trying to make an effort and found himself standing in the middle of a smaller retail chain store's Christmas section, overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices and feeling like a freak for not knowing what to get outside lights and colorful balls.

“First Christmas together?”

Sam’s head swiveled around, “Umm, I’m sorry?” The person who spoke said, “You’ve got that whole I’ve got no freaking idea what I’m doing look, so I took a guess it’s your first Christmas with your girlfriend…wife?”

“Uh, no, no girlfriend or wife.”

“Ahh, boyfriend.” Sam was about to correct their assumption when they continued, “That can be trickery,” and gave him the once over. “I’m guessing he’s not into frills and bows. You should head to the Christmas Market two blocks south of here. There are always booths selling unique or vintage items for the Holiday. Probably find something more appealing than this mass-produced crap.”

After one more glance, Sam thanked them and texted Dean where to meet up with him later, then headed out of the storefront and strolled down the street. He soon hears jolly holiday music and smells enticing scents wafting before entering the colorfully illuminated European style Market and is hit with the sense he’d been here before.

Sam shook his head, feeling ridiculous. Of course, he’d never been here before, but something about this place kept nagging at his memories of familiarity when the irresistible scent of hot, minty chocolate beckoned. After indulging in a creamy, decadent drink decorated with a soft peppermint stick, he walked around, taking in the wares for sale.

At one booth, he found strands of original bubble lights and instantly knew they’d appeal to Dean and his oft-denied inner child; another yielded hand-strung garlands and got popcorn and cranberry ones with instructions on storing them for future use. Sometime later, Sam is laden with so many packages and bags that even his long arms are having trouble juggling them when he sees an elderly woman seated by a table with a simple stand of lights.

The hunter in him was always looking for anything unusual which fit the bill. Smiling politely at the woman when approaching, Sam studied the few antique-looking items and decided they seemed innocuous and relaxed. He spotted an old snow globe, picked it up, and sardonically smiled at how it looked diminutive in his large hand and began examining it.

Sam took time to appreciate its craftsmanship. Its base was silver with hand-worked engravings and an inscription in a language he didn’t recognize. Giving it a shake, Sam watched the artificial snow gently drift over a scene of a log cabin snugly ensconced among evergreens and bare-limbed trees. He got that feeling again. Impulsively, he asked how much he was surprised not to have to haggle over the price.

Carefully taking the globe in her gnarled hands, the woman told Sam that it was crafted in the country of her birth but didn’t specify where. She carefully inserted it into an equally old wooden box, telling him it was explicitly constructed to house the globe to keep it safe during its travels. Sam hears rumbling and glances around, spotting an old pickup parking not far off, and turns back to find the woman has disappeared.

Frowning, he placed the box in a bag, gathered up the rest of his purchases, walked to the waiting vehicle, deposited the items in the crowded truck bed, and then climbed in noticed Dean peering through the cab's back window, “Couldn’t find any more stuff, Sam?” “Couldn’t find a bigger tree, Dean?” His brother says nothing while backing the truck up, “Good thing I got all that to decorate it with then.”

Dean grunted as he set his end into the tree stand and, catching his breath, huffed out, “This would’ve been the time to use some of those witchy tricks, Sam.”

“Or maybe a good time to start working out more and cut back on the burgers and pie?” Sam shot back. “Wadda you talking about?” Dean snapped defensively, “I’m in great shape!” Sam gives him bitchface and says, “Keep telling yourself that Dean.“

Squatting down to affix the supports to the tree, Sam continues. ”You got winded just carrying this down the stairs. We have to face it: neither of us is getting any younger. We had this conversation not long after dealing with Chuck. Yes, we’ll enjoy the everyday things we couldn’t before. But if we’re doing something or on a hunt and get seriously injured, Cas isn’t here to help. And you know Jack is hands-off, so we’ve ….”

“Whatever, Sam.” Dean interrupted, unsuccessfully tamping down his that hurt but not gonna acknowledge it look. “I’m going to take my out-of-shape self and get the rest of the stuff from the car. Unless you’re worried I might, I don’t know, fall and break a hip.”

“Dean, that’s not what I,” but his brother just left, and Sam sighed, knowing he’d put his foot in it again, trying not to express his true feelings. Since they got their freedom from the manipulations of heaven, hell, and all the other things that went bump in the night, the feelings he’d buried and thought were over had come back.

Before he said yes to Lucifer, Dean acknowledged Sam was an adult, and he needed to stop being overprotective. But there is a part, deep down, in both Winchesters that is psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent. That part in Sam is one hundred percent positive that if Dean found out, he’d be so disgusted by what a perverted freak he indeed was forcing Dean would cut him out of his life forever.

The bunker's door banged shut, and at the bottom of the stairs, Sam paused on the last tread, watching the scene playing out before him in the war room.

“Oh, come on,” Dean grumbles at an ornament, refusing to stay on a branch of the mostly decorated tree. He lets it go, and it begins coming off again. “That’s it, I’m getting my gun.”

Sam couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice. “Maybe I should’ve gotten some floaters and air fresheners instead?” He can see Dean mulling over that memory, “They were great.” Peering over at his brother, he asks, “Where did you disappear to? Thought you were going to help.”

Sam held up a grocery bag, “A peace offering? I know you aren’t going to change your habits, but I'm hoping we can compromise, at least when we’re not hunting. It’s 90% lean beef, and the pie,” Dean's whole face lit up, “Is made with almond flour and natural sourced sugar.”

Trading the wayward ornament for the bag, Dean states, “You deal with this,” Sam shakes his head when he hears, “Meatman coming to town” and sets about finishing the tree.

After cleaning up, the brothers sit in the library, drinking beer and watching an old Christmas movie playing on a laptop, when Dean casually inquires, “So what’s with the box?” Sam frowned before realizing he meant and remembered leaving the item sitting by the displayed swords. “It’s ahh, well,” Sam stammers as he retrieves the box, sets it on the table, and lifts the wooden lid. Dean raised an eyebrow at the contents, “Something you need to tell me, Samantha?” he snarks, removing the snow globe.

“I’m not sure why, but I'm drawn to it.” Dean frowned at his brothers' words and took a closer look. “What’s the saying?” He asked, pointing to an inscription on the base. “Not sure. I think it's a form of an older Germanic dialect. I was going to translate it later.”

Since nothing is screaming cursed object, Dean shakes it, making the snow swirl before setting it on the table, picking up his beer, and resuming watching the movie. He could feel Sam suspiciously eyeballing him asks, “What, Sam?” But Sam simply sighed, knowing his brother wouldn’t let it go. And sure enough…

“Did Santa ask if you were a good boy this year?”

Sam glances around trying to figure out where he’s at since a moment ago he was in the laundry and now starting at his decades younger self reclining against a headboard reading he hears his, their, name and watches himself huff in displeasure and getting up proceeds to trip over his own feet.

Following himself down a wood-paneled hallway, they enter a shabbily furnished living room, and spots his brother watching his younger self standing by a wood-burning kitchen stove. “Dean?” Turning, green eyes boggle, seeing Sam standing next to his own younger visage.

“What the hell you’d do, Sam?” Dean’s gravelly voice snapped and got Sam’s back up. “What makes you think I had anything to do with this?!” Dean looks at their younger doppelgängers arguing about something when young Sam stomps to a rickety kitchen table, plopping down on an equally rickety chair, crossing his arms, and glaring at its sacred top.

“Man, I forgot how bad your emoing could get,” Dean offhandedly commented, returning his attention to his brother, eyes hooded. “You were working in the library, so it's not hard to deduce you deciphered some curse cause now,” chucking his thumb toward the window, “We’re in the damn snow globe!”

Sam shot off bitchface #37, “It’s not a curse! I determined the words are an idiom. Слова не воробьи, как только они улетели, их уже не поймать.”

“Can you put that in English for those who don’t speak geek?”

“Words are not sparrows; once they have flown they cannot be recaptured.”

Dean got his running it over in my brain expression, “Yeah, I got nothing.” Sam concurred, “It didn’t make sense to me at first. But then I found a maker's mark hidden in the engravings. The records said they were a tradesman and spiritual alchemist.”

“What do idiot words have to do with Nicolas Flamel?” Sam's lips pursed, “Idiom Dean. And you know who Nicholas Flamel was?”

“Yeah, college boy, he created the philosopher's stone, turning metal into gold and some immortality elixir.” Sam waited. “He was in that Harry Potter movie, alright? What does that have to do with why we were here?”

“Okay, hear me out. Spiritual alchemy believers follow various paths to achieve the same goal, believing that, like metal, one’s soul can be transformed through stages of purification.” Sam began explaining the stages, and by the third, Dean heard enough.

“You're saying all the crap we’ve dealt with from heaven to hell has done some kinda colonic on our souls.” Sam began to speak, “Shut up, I’m on a role here. And if we take that idiom literally, one or both of us said something wrong and the idiom-alchy-snow globe Ghost of Christmas Past us to complete this whatever stage with an apology?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Great! Let’s figure out where here is, get to apologizing and the hell outta this glass ball.” Spying a discarded newspaper Dean tries picking up found he isn’t corporal. “Seriously?” Tipping his head sideways, he says, “Okay, December 22, 1999. We’re in Michigan..or Wisconsin?”

“Dean, what if it's something so bad there’s no way we can ask for forgiveness?”

That response made Dean's eyes narrow. “Sam, you need to tell me something?” His brother shook his head, but every warning signal in Dean was blaring like the bunker klaxon. He’d bet his entire collection of Busty Asian Beauties that Sam knew why that damn snow globe sent them here, but he was keeping it to himself for reasons.

Dean decided to hold his cards and play ignorant for a while longer. “Dude, what haven’t we done and forgiven each other for?”

Turning his attention to their younger selves made Dean feel a sense of nostalgia, missing how less complicated their lives seemed, even with the daily dose of Sam Winchester teen angst, which he always made up for.

Like now, offering to buy hot chocolate and giant pretzels triggered a memory, and the next moment, Dean was among a crowd wandering through the lighted tunnel entrance, following the loop by the salute to the armed forces towards the live reindeer exhibit.

“I remember this!” Dean exclaimed, “Dad left us in Somerset, Wisconsin, and were you all pissy ‘cause I kept giving you crap about this place’s name- Sam’s Christmas Village.”

“What else do you remember, Dean?”

They make a pit stop at the concessions, and while Sam is paying, Dean pulls out his flask, adding a double dollop to Sam’s. The kid needed to loosen up, then exchanged the cup for a pretzel with a smirk.

“This was the first time we got drunk together. Man, you were hilarious! Kept bugging me to go sledding,” Deans said, “And you fell off halfway down and laid there trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue.” Surrounded by softly falling snow tinted in hues of blues, greens, and reds, the brothers experience a memory trace of what happened that night.

Laughter fills the air as Dean staggers over, flopping on his back next to Sam, smiling at him when Sam’s expression changes and Sam leans over, his eyes' kaleidoscope colors disappearing into thin rings around dilated dark pupils as his fingertips caress the smooth, cinnamon-freckled skin and plush lips he was aching for when Dean pulled him tightly against him, noticing an unmistakable hard bulge pressing into his upper thigh as Sam instinctively started rocking his hips, seeking friction for his growing hard-on.

Dean feels his cock straining inside his jeans, slides one arm around Sam’s waist, another reaching behind him to cradle the back of his skull, angles his mouth up so he can drive his tongue into Sam’s mouth, feeling him suck on it with a sharp pull that shoots straight to his cock when wolf whistles from sledders passing by startled them caused Dean to bolt upright and dump Sam onto his butt.

Abruptly getting up, Dean grabbed the ropes of both sleds and dragged them downhill, leaving his brother perplexed. Scrambling to his feet, Sam rushes after, inquiring what happened, but Dean only responds that they need to head out before the roads ice over too much. The silent intensity of the drive back is broken only by music playing through the Impala’s speakers. Sam initially thinks Dean is concentrating on the road due to his intoxication. But Dean’s chewing his bottom lip signals he’s upset, and the knot in Sam’s stomach tells him to stay quiet.

Shutting the cabin door, Sam opens his mouth to speak, but Dean beats him to it, saying he overstepped boundaries that shouldn’t have been and won’t let it happen again. In a panic, Sam blurts out how his strange feelings for years were crystal clear.

“I love you, Dean, and want us to be together…like together together.” Dean shakes his head, “It’s the whiskey making you talk nonsense.” Sam’s stubborn streak surfaces, infuriating Dean, who shoves him back against the door and shouts in his face.

“Stop acting like a freak and go sleep it off!”

Sam feels like an ice pick is entering the base of his skull, and his stomach twists, knowing he’s the reason the person he cares most about in the entire world; he cares about more than himself is reacting like this, watching Dean disappear down the hallway, slamming his bedroom door shut. He fucked up royally, and suddenly his life was a mess when it seemed all was about to align an hour ago, making Sam wants to scream, to throw up.

Moving on autopilot, Sam shuts his room door, grabs his duffel, and haphazardly throws his belongings into it. Then, opening the window, he slips out and trudges back to town, heading for the bus station. By the time he arrives, his feet are so numb he shuffles across the linoleum flooring to the counter, setting most of his hoarded money down asked for the furthest distinction it’ll take him.

A short time later, the bus pulls out onto the main highway heading west as Sam leans against his window, wondering how everything outside seems so normal when his world has imploded. Dean turns his attention from the younger visage before him to the mature man beside him.

“This is why you ran away to Flagstaff.”

“You were right about me being a freak all along.”

Dean shakes his head, “No, Sam, it was my fault. I tried so hard to keep what I felt hidden, but that night..,” Sam's burst of laughter made Dean bark, “You think that’s funny?”

Eyes that never settled their color, hardened by the decades of horrors they’d lived through, were now gazing at him with unworldliness a thirteen-year-old Dean, after confirming everything in their dad’s journal was true, helplessly watched flame out like dying embers.

“No, Dean. The snow globe brought us back for the dissolution stage, dissolving false beliefs. We’ve been at cross purposes all these years for the same reason, each of us thinking we are the problem and the only way out is to no longer deny our feelings.”

Lifting his hand, Sam hesitated to let his fingertips explore the older, but still, so much loved, freckled skin again when Dean shifted, reaching his still-strong hand to cradle the back of his brother’s skull, angling his mouth up and breathed out against his lips.

“Sammy, we’re good.”

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

[weemsicallygay]

thing’s mischief

pairing/s: larissa weems x original female character edith sinclair)

warning/s: definitely not proofread and short :p

a little something for the holidays, merry christmas everybody!

“over here! we need a few more lights in this area!” bianca managed to yell as xavier huffed with a box of lights and decor.

larissa, holding the other end of the lights, smiled at the sight of the students and staff alike decorating for the holidays. this particular event never really was her favorite holiday to celebrate, usually it would just be her spending it alone in the halls of the school, occasionally coming down to the town and its holiday fiesta. but now, with the help of the students and maybe a certain tall werewolf, she decided to at least lighten up the school for the mood.

suddenly, fingers snapped in front of her face. the said tall werewolf stood there on the ladder with a smirk in her face, the hand she used to snap larissa’s attention now on her hips as the other held onto the ladder.

“earth to larissa weems, you there sweetheart?” larissa rolled her eyes, “i’m here, i’m here.”

“can you pass the star ornaments, ma cherie?”

larissa did as she was told, a small smile on her face as she handed the objects to edith. “am i really not allowed to place things? it’s unladylike of me to be standing here so still when i should be helping.”

edith grinned as she hang the ornaments by the garlands with thing’s help, “you are helping sweetheart.”

“i’m lost at how i’m doing that.” edith snickered.

“you’re being edith’s little helper!” larissa stuck her bottom lip out, “that’s not helping, and that name sucks.”

“the last time you helped, which was only this halloween mind you, you managed to actually destroy half the decors before we even placed them.”

the taller woman sulked, if she wasn’t holding the other end of the lights, she might have crossed her arms over her chest as she grumbled. the mere sight of larissa pouting like a child with her cheeks red nearly sent edith into a cackling mess, the only thing stopping her was the possibility of falling from the ladder.

she chuckled before finally signaling the woman to come closer, “okay, you wanna help? how about you hang that end here.”

larissa beamed, “where exactly?”

edith’s hand came in contact with hers, her delicate fingers guided larissa’s to place on a specific place by the garlands. as she busied herself with teaching where to place the lights, she felt a hand circle on her waist.

“as much as i want to help, i wouldn’t want you falling as you help me with helping.” she whispered into edith’s ear.

instead of going red like she usually would, edith only chuckled. “that is a mouthful of words, sweetheart.”

before she could go back to hanging, they heard whistles and cheers behind them. turning her neck, larissa’s eyes widened at the sight of the students just staring at both of them.

she cocked a brow, “anything interesting you want to tell us, dearests?”

choruses of “look up” and some pointing to the sky were received by the two adults, who both grew red once they set their sights on the subject of curiosity. there by the bannister stood, or rested (idk), thing with a mistletoe on its fingers.

the severed hand teasingly waved the ornament above the couple as if urging them to forgo the tradition. larissa froze with her cheeks burning red as edith massaged the bridge of her nose with a smile, feigning disappointment. if thing had eyes, they’d be winking at enid who has her thumbs up at the hand.

“well, i suppose we should. we wouldn’t want to disappoint them.” larissa stared into edith’s glowing ones, her eyes down at her teasing smile.

the hand that rested on edith’s waist suddenly pulled closer. though edith remained standing still, larissa nudged closer as the gap between them got smaller and smaller.

“we definitely don’t want that do we,” larissa placed a small kiss on edith’s cheek, earning small groans from the small crowd under them. she smirked, grabbing edith’s thighs and carrying her bridal style.

“merry christmas, my love.” she whispered into edith’s lips before pulling her into a breathtaking and passionate kiss, edith’s hands merely tightened their hold on larissa’s shoulders as the children cheered.

she’d have to thank thing with a new bottle of nail polish later.

[thefandomenchantress]

Oooo I have a little question since we've been talking on the Halloween polycule for a bit together.

Would the Halloween poly dress up in matching Halloween costumes? if so, what would they dress up as? If not, who's dressing up as what? :3

Ooh, that’s a fun question! I’ll compile some of my thoughts into a snippet of this scenario, since I think that’ll be easier.

———

On the morning of Halloween, Veronika walked into the living room and immediately made a beeline for her two housemates, who were both sitting on the couch.

“Arturo, Acey, have I ever mentioned how much I love you?” She asked, plopping down in the middle of couch in between them.

“We’ve talked about that nickname.” Ace grumbled, glaring. Her flattery hadn’t worked as well as she’d hoped.

Arturo sighed. “What do you want, Veronika? It’s clear you’re up to something.”

“Weeeeelllll, I was thinking we could wear matching costumes for Halloween this year!” Veronika exclaimed, “We could—”

“No.” Both Arturo and Ace answered at the same time, not even letting her finish.

“I’m not dressing up for Halloween, Veronika, that’s an activity for children.” Arturo said. Ace nodded in agreement.

“Oh, okay.” Veronika answered sadly. “But we have to do something for Halloween, if we’re not doing that. We always watch Arturo’s favorite reality TV shows when he asks, so I should get to do something for this!” She reasoned. A wide grin spread across his face. “Then again, I suppose I could settle for a different Halloween activity. We could always watch a scary movie, or visit haunted houses, or—”

“NO!” Ace screeched, covering her mouth with his hands. He tried to recover his dignity afterwards (and did not succeed), clearing his throat and saying, “I-I mean, I like the costumes idea better.”

“Yay!” Veronika exclaimed, giving him a quick hug before turning to Arturo. “Pleeeeease can you do it with us? It’ll be fun!”

Arturo pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, silent for a moment before letting out a long sigh. “…Fine.”

“Yay! I already have our costumes picked out, and all the makeup we’ll need, and—” Veronika immediately started rambling, clapping her hands together and bouncing up and down slightly as she explained her plan to them.

Despite the fact they were beginning to regret this already, the other two had to admit it was nice seeing her so happy.

———

So yeah. Long story short Ace and Arturo don’t want to dress up, but Veronika convinces them in the end. Here are a few other headcanons and such:

-I’m not sure what their costumes should be, which is ironic because that’s the one question you wanted an answer to. Maybe they could do something fun with classic Disney villains or something. Arturo is Cruella, Veronika is Ursula, and Ace is the Queen of Hearts. Or something like that. I’d love to hear other people’s ideas!

-Arturo insists on taking many photos, since he figures putting so much effort into your appearance and then not showing anybody would be a waste.

-Arturo may be good at conventional makeup, but Veronika far exceeds him in the scary makeup department. Thus, she’s the one to do all the makeup for their costumes.

-Veronika wants to watch a Halloween movie, but Ace is against anything too scary, so they compromise and watch the Nightmare Before Christmas. Ace forgot how creepy the Oogie Boogie Man is and ended up scared anyway, hugging Arturo’s arm like a teddy bear for comfort. He didn’t cry, though!…Well okay, maybe a little.

-Veronika makes spooky snacks. They’re not actually spooky, but she’ll call something like popcorn and M&M’s ‘Unicorn intestines’ or something like that and it gets the job done. She tries to make a cake that looks like a real human heart, too, but according to Arturo it is not atomically accurate in the slightest.

-Overall they have a lot of fun! Veronika is happy to spend her favorite holiday with her two favorite people.